Amidst the hustle and bustle of Gyoncorde plaza, a gathering of fishmen and mermaids united in solidarity with Queen Otohime's and her noble campaign, a movement years in the making, to bridge the chasm that divides the Merfolk of Fishman Island and the humans that live on the surface, advocating for peace, equality, and coexistence in a world long scarred by prejudice and conflict.
Today marked the end of those empty days, filled with nothing but hope and tears, where her longing cries reached few to none and all she dreamed was to see the sun.
The plaza overflowed with an energy seldom seen as voices large and small ebbed and flowed in joyous harmony. Stalls lined up in rows, brimming with goods that seduced the senses.
Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, heralding a day destined to be remembered.
Karna shuffled cautiously through the crowd, the Boy trailing closely behind. Her watchful gaze flicked from face to face, she couldn't help but question their intentions. Were they truly here to stand with the queen, or was something darker lurking behind those smiles?
Through the shifting crowd, Karna caught sight of a small cluster of figures huddled near the plaza's fringe. Their whispers were sharp and urgent, voices barely above a murmur, carrying a weight that felt out of place among the celebration.
A young fishman girl paced near the edge of the plaza, a nervous energy running through her shifty steps. She swept her gaze across the crowd, keeping her post as the lookout. Her jaw tightened as she hissed, "What's taking so long? Time's almost up!"
A merman boy's voice trembled in response, "I… I don't know about this big sis. There are so many people here… t-they could really get hurt."
The girl glanced around nervously, eyes flicking with a mix of unease and a smidge of anger as she gripped at her head in frustration, "Hey, keep it down, are you trying give us away"
The boy flinched, a tear gathering at the corner of his eye. He wiped it away quickly with the sleeve of his shirt, unused to being scolded so sharply. "S-Sorry…"
The girl sighed softly, a brief flicker of regret crossing her features as she caught his reaction. She steadied herself, drawing in a slow breath to calm the sharp edge from her voice.
The girl crossed her arms, holding herself tight as she turned her gaze towards the crowd "Look, I know… I don't wanna do this neither, but we don't have a choice, so there's no use thinking about it any more than we need to."
As she watched their exchange from a distance, Karna's thoughts shifted, painting a disturbing conclusion: 'Orphans... I shouldn't be surprised. Just how low can they possibly go?'
'Why would anyone do something like this, just what could their motive be… whoever it is, I can't let them get their way.' a bloody splatter of disgust and fear stained a mysterious figure's silhouette in her mind.
'I'm probably walking into a trap... chances are, I might not make it out in one piece'. A cold shiver crawled along her spine. 'Should I, turn back?' The doubt that followed clung to her like a shadow.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought, but the unease settled deep in her gut like a heavy stone.
'No!! I won't allow myself to run away from this,' she caught herself, breathing steadying as she reminded herself, 'Queen Otohime fought for all of us—for the fishmen and mermaids too. She's out there risking everything just so that I could live up there on the surface and the truth is, I can't help but want that future too,'
"Don't worry your highness, I won't abandon you." Karna muttered under her breath, her lips pressed into a firm line as she pumped her fist just above waist height, the motion sharp and steady. Her eyes narrowed with a fierce determination that made her seriousness almost disarmingly earnest.
Nearby, Queen Otohime engaged warmly with her subjects, drawing smiles and admiration.
As Karna glanced toward the horizon, unease flickered in her chest. Dusk crept over the square, softening the edges of the day. A gentle warmth glowed from the glowing coral lanterns unique to Fishman Island, their light casting an otherworldly shimmer over the crowd. Yet beneath the fading light, a tension lingered, hinting at something beneath the surface of the celebration, waiting to emerge.
The Boy suddenly broke Karna's train of thought, his voice as casual as can be. "Hey, Miss Karna, what's up with this place? I think everyone is staring at you."
Karna turned her head slowly, sweeping the crowd with her honey-gold gaze. Their faces drained of color as if a hungry beast had just set its eyes on them. Several people instinctively looked away. Nearby, a half-drunk fishman snapped out of his stupor and clamped a hand over his friend's mouth, silencing him before he could finish his drunken slur.
She sighed, irritation flickering across her features.
"Fools, has it been so long that they've forgotten everything I've done for them," she muttered, pulling her hood lower to shadow her face.
Her gaze wandered towards the boy before it dropped to the corner of his mouth, where a small droplet gleamed.
"You're drooling," she said flatly, pointing.
The Boy blinked, before he hurriedly wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "huh... n-no I'm not"
But just then, his stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl. His cheeks flushed red, and he looked away, embarrassed.
Karna's mind raced, her thoughts sharp and urgent. 'What was I thinking? I can't have him trailing behind me any further… but I can't turn back either, not with what's about to happen. I need him gone before things take a dangerous turn.' She made a subtle gesture toward a nearby stall, her voice low but clear. "If you're hungry, you don't have to hold yourself back."
The Boy shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side with stubborn insistence. "I'm fine."
But then his stomach growled even louder, betraying him all over again. Heat rushed to his cheeks, his embarrassment became impossible to hide. "Ok, ok—just stay put Miss Karna, I don't want you getting lost again," he said hurriedly, turning away and running off toward the stalls.
Karna watched him go, following his hurried steps as he made his way toward the booths that lined across the plaza. After a moment, she turned away. "Go, follow the scent that tempts you most, hopefully it'll lead you far away from me…" Then she slipped into the crowd, and almost without warning, she had vanished completely.
The Boy paused as he caught a whiff of something delicious mixed into the air. Following the warm, savory scent, his mouth began to water—and the closer he got, the faster it came, until it was practically flowing like a tiny waterfall. He hurried toward a takoyaki booth that stood just a short distance from where Karna once stood, cheeks flushed with excitement.
The booth sat steaming at the edge of the row, small but lively, its counter cluttered with sauce bottles and skewers worn smooth by years of use. An iron pan hissed softly as round morsels rolled and turned inside its wells, each movement precise and practiced, steam rising in thick curls that drifted lazily into the air.
Behind it stood a thick-armed fishman with a wide chest, a long scar running across his neck and a bandana pulled low over his brow. He worked the pan with relaxed confidence, humming loudly to himself as the batter sizzled and popped. The air around the stall was rich—oil, batter, something briny and warm all tangled together, heavy enough to cling to the senses.
The Boy skidded to a stop in front of the counter, staring. Drool betrayed him almost immediately.
"Wow…" His head tilted slightly. "What is that?"
The fishman glanced up from his work and grinned. "Takoyaki."
The Boy blinked.
"Ta…ko…yaki?" He rolled the word around like it might explain itself. "Is it food?"
The fishman snorted, amused. "Kid, if it wasn't food, I wouldn't be sellin' it." He flipped the pan with a sharp twist of the wrist, the round pieces turning neatly in place. "Hot snack. Real popular topside. You want some?"
The Boy nodded immediately. "Yes."
"How many?"
He hesitated, gaze flicking back to the pan, then to the tray stacked nearby. Slowly, he lifted a finger.
"…One?"
The fishman barked a laugh. "One? That's no way to eat takoyaki." Without waiting for the boy to voice his say, the cook ladled golden batter into a special iron pan, its shallow, rounded wells designed to shape perfect spheres. He pressed a tender octopus piece into the center of every portion, and flipped the round morsels with precise flicks of his wrist. Droplets of hot oil sparked and danced in the light, and the Boy's chest tightened with tension—he could tell just by the fluidity of the movements that the man was a master of his craft. "Watch closely," he added, wagging a finger. "This part's an art."
The Boy watched like it was sacred ritual, hands clenched at his sides, eyes tracking every movement. When the fishman slid several takoyaki into a small paper tray and drowned them in sauce and dancing flakes, the Boy's eyes practically shone.
The tray slid across the counter.
"That'll be a hundred Berries."
The Boy picked one up without thinking.
Then he froze.
The words didn't come.
His smile faded into a blank stare, eyes dropping to the tray, then back to the fishman. His mouth opened once… twice… and nothing came out. He stood there, caught between thoughts, like he'd missed a step on a staircase and couldn't remember which foot was supposed to land next.
"…Oh," he finally said.
The fishman's eyes narrowed.
"Oh?" he repeated.
The Boy looked down again. "I… don't have… any money."
Silence.
The hiss of the pan seemed louder. The steam curled more slowly. For a breathless moment, the stall itself felt like it had stopped moving.
Then—
The world seemed to crack.
The vendor went rigid. His grin vanished completely. The tray slipped an inch across the counter as his fingers loosened, eyes widening like he'd just been struck by lightning.
"…You don't," he said slowly.
The Boy stiffened, still holding the takoyaki halfway to his mouth. He blinked, looking between the tray and the fishman, clearly unsure what was supposed to happen next.
The fishman turned away sharply, clutching his chest.
"My trust…" he croaked. "Given freely. Without hesitation." He staggered back a step, then spun around, pointing dramatically at the Boy. "Trampled without mercy!"
The Boy's shoulders crept upward. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stood there, wide-eyed, bracing for something he didn't understand.
"I opened my stall to you!" the fishman wailed. "Fed you with my SOUL!"
For one stretched heartbeat, the stall held its breath—
"BAHAHAHAHA!"
The fishman threw his head back, laughter booming so loud it rattled the bottles on the stall. He slapped the counter hard enough to make the pan jump. "Kid! You should've seen your face!"
The Boy flinched—then stared.
"…Huh?"
The fishman wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "Relax. I'm messin' with you. You looked like the world just ended." He leaned forward, grin wide and easy. "First time off on your own, huh?"
The Boy stared at him for a heartbeat—
Then burst out laughing.
"Mwa ha ha!!" He doubled over, clutching his stomach, the sound sharp and bright. "You scared me big man!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" The fishman's laugh rolled deep and jolly, chest shaking. "Good! there's nothi'n like a good scare to keep ya awake Hah!."
The Boy straightened, still smiling, then held up the tray uncertainly. "So… it's really okay?"
"On the house," the fishman said, waving a hand. "Eat up before it gets cold. Takoyaki's no good if you let it sit."
The Boy nodded, turning to the takoyaki in his hand, eyes lit up as he swallowed hard in anticipation, then he pressed it unto his lips and took a deep savoring bite,
His face lit up instantly.
Heat spread through him in a way he hadn't expected. Not just warmth on his tongue, but something fuller—comforting, grounding. He chewed slowly, savoring it, as if afraid it might disappear if he hurried. The noise of the stall faded into the background, replaced by the soft rhythm of the plaza moving around him.
For a brief moment, the world felt simple.
The Boy swallowed and looked back up at the stall, clutching the tray with both hands. "Um—thank you," he said earnestly. "For the… ta-ko-ya-ki." He still stumbled over the word, but smiled proudly anyway. "It's really good."
The fishman laughed, arms folding across his wide chest. "Course it is. Told ya it'd stick with you." He waved a hand, shooing him gently. "Go on now. Don't keep standin' around like a lost guppy."
The Boy nodded quickly. "I'll remember it!" He hesitated, then bowed—deep and sincere. "Bye!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" The fishman's laugh rolled out warm and jolly. "Take care, kid! And next time—bring your pockets with you!"
The Boy giggled, turned, and hurried off, still chewing carefully as he went.
As he moved through the crowd, his steps slowed. The tray was lighter now, nearly empty, but the warmth lingered. His gaze drifted instinctively across the plaza, scanning faces.
'Karna… must've gotten lost again,' he thought with a small, ironic sigh, shoulders slumping just a little. 'Figures,' He shook his head faintly, accepting it as if it were always going to be this way.
He wasn't worried. Not really. Just thoughtful. Ok—ok, maybe he was a little worried but just a little bit.
'I should probably start looking for her,' he decided, weaving gently between passersby. 'The last time she got lost, we ended up getting chased by an angry mob, I really can't let her leave my sight can I...'
Voices began to rise ahead—calmer than the marketplace chatter, carrying a tone that made him slow without quite knowing why. He edged closer, curiosity tugging at him as he swallowed the last bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Something important was about to happen.
Unaware of how close he already was to it, the Boy drifted forward, drawn to the flame like a moth in the night.