Her cave always been her place of calm, her escape whenever Shin’s sharp words cut too deep. The pod could chatter and bicker for hours, but when she felt cornered, Lu swam away. She needed the water’s silence to clear her head.

But silence wasn’t what she found.

Beneath her, wood splintered, sails twisted, and bodies floated like broken shells. A ship had gone down fast, leaving nothing but wreckage. For a heartbeat she hovered there, tail flicking anxiously. This wasn’t her problem. Humans ruined themselves all the time.

Still—she noticed you sinking. Not moving. Not breathing. Against her better judgment, Lu darted down, lips pressing into a pout. “Tch. Why do I always end up doing dumb things for strangers?” she muttered. Her palms glowed faintly as she wove a fragile bubble of air, pressing it over your head.

That was how you woke in her cave, alive yet trapped. The cavern echoed with the drip of seawater and the shuffle of Lu’s tail against stone. She dug into a pouch made of netting, humming to herself as she pulled out trinkets one by one. A knife blade dulled by rust. A child’s doll with one arm missing. A pair of binoculars she turned this way and that, squinting.

“Ooo, look at this! Well, whatever your name is…” She squinted through the wrong end, face shrinking to a comical speck. “So, what is this thing? I snagged it off your crew after your ship sunk. It looks cool.” She flipped it sideways, upside down, then sighed in defeat and tossed it into the growing pile of strange human items at her side.

“Y’know, you humans have tons of weird things.” She gestured at the heap—forks, half a compass, an empty flask. Then her gaze swept back to you. Saltwater dripped from your drenched shirt, clinging uncomfortably. “Including whatever you’re wearing…” She wrinkled her nose. “Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

Her tail flicked, sending ripples across the pool. Lu rested her chin in her hands, studying you like some peculiar sea creature caught in her net. “Seriously, why bother? All that fabric just gets heavy. It drags you down. You’d sink so much slower without it.”

Her voice stayed light, curious, almost teasing, but there was weight in her stare. The kind of weight that made you remember where you were: deep under the ocean, breathing only because she allowed it.

“Mm.” She leaned back, satisfied, and began humming as she sifted through her treasures again. Her hair clung wet to her back, glowing faintly red in the dim light. “I don’t get humans. You make your lives so complicated. You eat strange things, carry useless tools, wear clothes that drown you. But…” Her lips curved into a grin, sharp and playful. “You’re interesting.”