Work Text:
You were bored.
It was a day like any other. One where the sun rose in the east and set in the west. One where you clocked in at 8am and counted down the minutes until 6pm, passing the time by steaming milk and brewing espresso, crafting latte art to resemble tentacles and fins. You knew you were lucky to be a barista at the local aquarium and not a well-established café, for your opening shift started three hours later than the average coffee shop. At least your monotony came with a slightly more restful slumber.
Seafoam Café consisted of a horseshoe counter situated against the wall facing the entrance to the aquarium, your ever so enthusiastic expression greeting those who had just paid admission beneath a tacky sign. You knew bubbles and aquarium rocks were on brand for the location, but… Well, the logo didn’t have to look so dated.
Thursday to Sunday, you took a break from your part-time studies at the nearby university to sling specialty latte after “wet cappuccino” (while suppressing a sigh) for minimum wage. Was it glamorous? No. Did it slow your journey to receiving your degree and applying for career jobs in your actual field? Yes, but you supposed the ability to pay your share of rent and groceries was a prerequisite to being a functional adult, as society believed.
Wiping the counter one last time before the aquarium unlocked its doors, you braced yourself for the first wave of eager visitors. The fresh carafe of medium roast coffee at your back provided a reliable buffer, the caffeinated teas placed in arm’s reach over the herbal options. The small toaster oven was heated, and the daily selection of fresh pastries looked as tasty as ever. Now, all you could do was smile and wait.
When the clock struck 9am, the early birds rolled in. A coffee with cream and sugar, an english breakfast tea with sweetener, a flat white with a splash of vanilla. Only, instead of the expected lull between 9:30am and 11am, the line at your little café only got longer, and longer, and longer. It occurred to you–sometime between the twelfth seasonal latte and the third pot of decaf dumped due to it sitting out for too long–that there would be no moment to catch your breath, for the new exhibit had opened.
“Mom, the dolphin show starts in fifteen minutes!” A child whined, tugging on his mother’s arm as she rummaged in her purse. “We have to go!”
“I know, honey,” the woman huffed, “Please be patient. This will only take a minute.” She offered you an extra bill, adding with a hint of exasperation, “Can I also get a chocolate chip cookie for my son?”
You were quick to hand the boy his snack, a sympathetic smile shot towards the mother. You didn’t have time to spare any pleasantries or light conversation. No, the entirety of the line were hoping to get their coffees before the traveling exhibit commenced the first show of the day. Were tickets reusable throughout the visit? Yes, but you decided to bite your tongue in lieu of explaining that they could simply catch the next show in two hours. You were too busy smiling through the barrage of complaints from customers who didn’t seem to understand that milk could only steam so fast. There were dolphins waiting! What about that could you not understand?
Take the order. Take the money. Heat the food. Make the drink. Hand both out at the same time. Wish them a pleasant visit at the aquarium. Repeat. Over and over, you worked on auto-pilot, formulating a request to your boss in your mind while you crafted another fancy coffee. The new exhibit was set to last for two months at your location, and there was no way in all hell you could sustain working the increased volume of customers for that long on your own. You were going to need another staff member for the remainder of the dolphins’ reign over the aquarium. Maybe even two more…
“Um…I, uh…”
You blinked, inner monologue skidding to a stop as you realized you hadn’t received the answer you were looking for. It wasn’t common for a “Hi there, what can I get for you?” to be met with averted eyes and flustered stammering.
The young man looked to be the last in line for what you could only hope to high heavens would be the duration of the current dolphin show. He clutched a phone wrapped in a rather loud case close to his chest, his other hand squeezing the strap of his shoulder bag so tight, his knuckles went white. When he ducked his head to shy away from your bewildered stare, his chin knocked against the large headphones slung around his neck, nestled atop the hood of a vibrant teal sweater, an unfamiliar brand stamped cross his left breast and accented by what looked like the silhouette of an anime character.
Now, all that was normal. What was odd was his brilliant hair–a deep, cool indigo that seemed far too natural to be even the most expensive dye job–and his frankly extraordinary eyes. At first, you worried that you had simply seen incorrectly, but when he glanced at the menu hanging behind you, panic flared in amber depths that almost seemed flecked by bright violet, and you wondered if this was some sort of new contacts trend that you had missed on social media.
Regardless, you weren’t one to judge. His eyes and hair really complimented the rest of his features, so if he wanted to pay hand over fist for hair treatments and fancy contacts, then all the power to him, right? It was the last thing on your mind when you opened your mouth to speak after an uncomfortably long stretch of silence. No, all you wanted to ask was, “Can I help you with any questions you may have?”
His cheeks took on a rosy tint as he refused to meet your eye, instead clearing his throat to nervously stutter, “Um, d-do you happen to have any signature drinks?”
“Like, specialty coffees? We do have some seasonal options.” You gestured to the small sign by the register.
“B-but…” He shuffled his feet, dismissing the menu in the way he glanced away with clear indifference. Though his voice was rather timid, he still stood his ground. “Are there any drinks that you’re known for?”
“I don’t think I follow.”
“Um, okay, it’s like…” The man chewed the inside of his cheek before he adjusted the strap of his bag–which you could now see was a bright pink, embroidered with what looked to be a stuffed bean cake–and clarified, “You know when a character goes to a café and they get the special menu item and it’s symbolic of the overall theme of the anime? Like that.”
“Uh, we have… OH!” For the first time that shift, you felt a spark of inspiration ignite within you. Glancing around at the various syrups, coffee blends, and bagged teas, an idea began to take shape. “Hey, do you like sweet?”
“Yes.” When he nodded, his bright indigo fringe flopped in an almost comical manner.
“Does it need to be coffee?”
“T-tea is fine.”
Perfect. You could work with that. Filling a large cup with hot water, you began to brew the tea you had in mind as you got to work frothing milk. You needed a lot of foam, plenty of bubbles for your plan to work, and it was rather convenient that the tea needed time to steep. After stirring two pumps of vanilla into the steamed milk, you transferred the pretty, deep blue tea into a clear plastic cup (double-cupped for the heat). As you slowly added the milk, the drink took on a lovely gradient reminiscent of the shallows at a tropical resort. You even spooned the foam atop the latte in the shape of a dolphin. At least, you thought it looked somewhat close to a tail and nose poking out from the water, breaking off two tiny pieces of dehydrated blackberry to serve as the dolphin’s eyes.
“Tada!” And really, you knew confidence was the best way to sell anything. With a flourish you pushed the beverage across the counter to the awkward man with stars in his eyes. “A vanilla butterfly pea latte with a foam dolphin!”
A smile tugged at his lips, persistent, like he would never do so on his own accord. “Is this on the menu?”
“No.” You shrugged, wiping your hands on your uniform apron. “But I liked the challenge, so…”
This time, when he glanced at you, he actually met your eyes. And wow, what a beautiful shade of orange that twinkled within his gaze. Though his fingers trembled as he retrieved the drink from the counter, he managed to shoot you a wide grin. “T-t-thank you!”
With his face brighter than the red snappers down the hall, he awkwardly… bowed (?) before scurrying away into the aquarium, leaving you with the next customer who had joined the queue at some point in the last thirty seconds.
It wasn’t until you were clocking out for your break, placing the “Closed until 2pm” placard on the counter, that you realized the man had never paid.
You debated calling him out as you curled up on your usual bench in the corner of the freshwater fish wing, but as you tugged your textbook out from your bag and let it fall open against your knees, you decided otherwise. It wasn’t like you had sought him out in the aquarium or anything. Meeting him in that dark corner had been entirely unexpected, but there he was, sitting in front of the catfish tank, a notebook open on his knee and his lips moving a mile a minute.
He was so wrapped up in whatever he was saying to himself that he didn’t even notice your presence, which wouldn’t have been weird if you hadn’t been the only other soul in the vicinity. The freshwater fish were never an attraction that garnered many lingering admirers, though there was typically a revolving door of gawking children and unimpressed teens. The dead air in the room was unusual, and all you could blame it on was the dolphin show that had started right before you took your break.
“GAH!”
You flinched, glancing up from your book to meet alarmed amber eyes beneath a soft purple fringe. Your entire body stiffened in warning as you tentatively asked, “Is something wrong?”
Palm slamming over his lips, a strangled squeak slipped through his fingers. “Sorry!”
The group of catfish (you spotted at least one corydoras, brochis, and aspidoras) scattered, vanishing in a burst of bubbles beyond the glass. It was cute, almost like the fish had been attracted to the man’s quiet muttering. Had he known he had an audience? He certainly hadn’t noticed you, which was evident by his sheepish, “I, uh, didn’t see you there.”
“Oh, well then I’m sorry for startling you,” you offered a smile. Checking the time on your phone, you sighed, adjusting the textbook in your lap. “My break is over in a bit anyway. Just ignore me and I’ll be gone soon.”
“Ah.” With a stiff nod, he closed his notebook and regarded the tank of brown, speckled fish with a tight frown. Just as you were about to turn back to your reading, there was the rustle of clothing, the man pulling himself from the fish-themed carpet to shuffle to another bench just a little ways away.
Huh. Did he want to talk?
“You know,” dipping your toe into the water, you ventured, “Most don’t find the freshwater fish very exciting. The colorful tropical fish get all the attention.”
You left out that you thought it unfortunate. The low blue lighting of the room created such a calming atmosphere, and the props arranged between real kelp and algae slicked boulders were creative and aesthetically pleasing. A replica of an old fishing dingy loomed within the large tank that took up one whole wall, the paint faded and the wood softened with time. Neon tetras darted in and out of the gaps in the planks, bubbles marking their paths as the catfish hung closer to the colorful aquarium rocks, reappearing along the base of the boat.
“Did you know that catfish are v-very smart?” The man spoke, his voice pitching higher, a nervous warble to his words. When you regarded him with patient interest, he continued, “They have good memories. Studies show they can remember a voice from five years prior.”
“Hm,” you hummed. Suddenly, the wide-mouthed creature meandering past the glass seemed a little more interesting. “How do you know that?”
“My brother, um, really likes cats…fish.” The man blinked, something unreadable flashing in his brilliant eyes. His lips twitched up, as if he was about to laugh at a joke you hadn’t caught. Instead, he cleared his throat, repeating, “Catfish.”
“Fascinating.” With that, you returned your textbook to your bag and stretched your limbs, shaking out the stiffness from sitting for an hour. As you went to head back to your little stall, you shot the strange man a smile. “It was cool talking to you.”
“Levi!” He blurted, “You can call me Levi.”
Dipping your head, you chuckled, “Alright. Nice to meet you, Levi.”
You didn’t think much of it as your day went on at an above average pace. On slower days, a handful of conversations with strangers was far from out of the ordinary. A pleasant discussion was nothing to scoff at, sure, but working in the service industry rendered most interactions unremarkable.
So, when the strange man with the bright hair and blazing eyes returned to the aquarium café for a second day in a row, it caught you by surprise.
“Hi,” you stared at him, as you turned from where you had just handed off a steaming cup of coffee, “It’s Levi, right?”
Jerking his head in an awkward nod, he fiddled with the cord of his headphones, scanning the menu of the café. “Can I get the same drink as yesterday?”
His eyes darted to you, brimming with this cautious optimism that hit you harder than you had anticipated. Your heart skipped a beat, and you chose to blame it on the intimidating iridescence of his irises–flashing between orange and violet–and nothing more. If you forgot how to breathe at the touch of his fingers when passing off the beverage, well, you had no comment.
“Oh,” He realized before he stepped away from the register, embarrassment shining pink upon his cheeks. “I forgot to pay you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You answered before you really understood what you were doing. A quick look behind Levi told you the next customer would make some ridiculous comment on getting a free drink if they were more attractive, to which you’d have to craft some sort of lie that you knew Levi previously, or something.
Levi’s blush deepened, and he leaned closer to mutter, “I don’t want to get you in trouble!”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” You whispered, “I don’t care.”
He snorted in amusement, clutching the blue latte over his heart as if the gesture meant more than you could ever know. Just as he was about to step away from the counter, a shout was heard across the lobby.
“BOYCOTT AQUARIUMS!” The voice rang loud and clear over the waves of chatter rising in the admissions queue. A crowd pushed their way through the glass doors, hoisting loud picket signs and chanting their message. The ground rumbled as if a herd of elephants approached, the pedestrians that had arrived for a fun afternoon at the aquarium shuffling towards the walls, away from the commotion brewing in front of the ticket counter.
“FREE THE DOLPHINS!” The horde cried, anger warping their features into something fierce, “DOLPHINS DO NOT BELONG IN CAPTIVITY!”
And though your stomach sank with each round of the chant, you had grown used to the activists protesting your workplace. The moment the exhibition was announced to be stopping in your city, requiring an expansion to be built along the side of the building to house the stands and the tank, it had been a nonstop media battle prompting many to speak out against the exploitation of dolphins. Not only had you seen article after article critiquing the aquarium’s decision to partake in such a tour with a smaller scale venue, but you’d seen the activists up close and personal.
You wondered if it would be rude to offer them all free coffee.
As security swarmed the gates, ushering the dozen protesters and their signs out the doors, the leader of the group surged between two guards, hoisting his picket sign high and shouting at the top of his lungs, “YOU’LL REGRET THIS! ALL THOSE WHO SUPPORT SUCH CRUELTY WILL ROT IN HELL! WE’LL DRENCH THE SOIL WITH YOUR BLOOD AND TURN THE OCEANS RED!”
You weren’t sure why, but it punched the air from your lungs, your fingers clutching the café counter for support as you looked to Levi. He watched the altercation, unnervingly still. In fact, he looked a little pale.
Some middle aged asshole whose grandchildren clung to his coat barked, “Yeah? You and what army?!”
You winced. Levi’s free hand curled into a fist.
The activist hollered, “YOU WILL ANSWER TO THE ANCIENT DEMON OF THE SEA!” His voice bounced around the lobby as the security guards forced him out the doors.
Just like that, everything returned to normal. The lobby returned to its unwritten order of info desk, ticket counter, café and/or the first hall of the aquarium (some reptiles and amphibians to hook the school children right off the hop) as if nothing had even happened. Everywhere you glanced, teens tapped away on their phones, children raced ahead to ogle the newts. Young adults laughed about the chaos they had just witnessed while the older generation herded their families towards the tickets for the very exhibit that had started the ruckus.
Yet Levi frowned, a crease in his brow and his knuckles as white as the first time you’d seen him. You tried to call out to him telepathically, hoped that he’d shoot you a look over his shoulder and could offer him a smile of support.
But he didn’t. He only turned on his heel and retreated into the dark halls of the aquarium.
It came as a relief to find him in the same spot as the day before, writing frantically in his notepad in the light of the catfish tank. Only today, he sat on the bench.
The same bench that you liked to occupy.
This time, he sensed your presence, fringe flopping as his head shot up to fix you with a concerned frown. “Does that happen a lot?”
“What do you mean?” You asked, tentatively sitting next to him. When he didn’t flinch at your proximity, you considered that permission to settle in for the duration of your break.
He barely even glanced at your textbook as you pulled it from your bag, clarifying, “The protests.”
“Yeah,” you shrugged. “But I can’t blame them.”
The freshwater wing was quiet again, almost eerily so. It was strange, the filter of the goldfish pond at your back bubbling audibly, the jingle of elevator music crackling through the speakers. It was usually so noisy, you completely forgot there was a soundtrack to the aquarium at all. Perhaps you should ask one of the aquarium cleaners if the wing was closed and both you and Levi weren’t aware of it.
“No? But you work here.”
“I work for the café,” you let your lips twitch into a smirk. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t the first time you had been asked to share your stance on the ethics of aquariums. “When I first started here four years ago, it was just a small venue focused on the rehabilitation and repopulation of smaller fish breeds. They employed a lot of marine biology students and provided a great hands-on learning experience for the school trips that would come through.”
Levi nodded, his headphones bouncing against his collarbones. Was it normal for people to nod with their whole body?
You cursed the heat that rose to your cheeks. You shouldn’t have found that so cute. Clearing your throat, you continued, “But of course, money always wins eventually, right? Ever since the aquarium’s owner sold it to Capitalism Inc., they’ve cared more about expanding and maximizing profit than caring about what’s best for the animals.”
With a sigh, you rested your chin in your palm, your eyes staring at your textbook though failing to absorb any information. Levi’s gaze never left you, as if waiting for permission to speak. All you could offer him was a halfhearted smile, a pointed glance through the catfish tank to what you knew laid beyond. “Honestly, we’re right next to the coast. We should just smuggle the dolphins out and set them free.”
You expected him to laugh.
He didn’t. Instead, he regarded you with utter sincerity, asking, “You’d do that?”
The speakers were spewing some lovey dovey nonsense, a track that you vaguely recognized from a Disney movie seen in your youth. Something about kissing the girl. Trying to shove aside the lyrics that seemed so oppressive in the quiet, empty freshwater wing, you joked, “In theory, sure, but I don’t really have the means to Free Willy them, do I?”
Once again, you didn’t receive the response that such a reference would typically garner. Levi simply blinked, confusion fogging his pretty eyes. When you mirrored his expression, that enticing blush crept up his neck–only slightly visible beneath the curve of his headphones–and prompted him to turn away with alarming speed.
“Uh, hey,” He diverted, pointing to the catfish tank. “That fish looks a bit sick, don’t you think? I mean, um, it’s been sitting in the corner this entire time.”
The brown catfish did indeed seem a bit off, not that you were an expert in fish health at all. Promising to inform one of the specialists on your way back to the café, you enjoyed the rest of your break in comfortable silence with your new apparent regular customer. While you scanned the readings for your next lecture, Levi immersed himself in a mobile game. Though you made a conscious effort not to stare, you would be lying if you said your eyes didn’t flit over to the strange device on more than one occasion. There was just something so… unfamiliar about it. It was larger than an iPhone, slightly taller than a Google phone. Perhaps it was custom, or one of those phones that you could build yourself. He had the overall vibe of someone good with tech. You were probably overthinking it.
Just as you were probably overthinking the mysterious emptiness of the room. When not a single soul had entered the freshwater fish exhibit for the remainder of your break, you went to mention the oddity to Levi, just to have the words die in your throat as a rush of voices sounded from down the hall. Children squealed in delight as they exited the door of the dolphin exhibit, teachers scolding bursting into a sprint, and you had the sudden realization that oh , the extension of the building where the dolphin exhibit was taking place was separated from the catfish tank by some behind the scenes hallways and nothing more. Maybe the fantastical promise of leaping dolphins completely overshadowed the entrance to the freshwater wing of the small aquarium.
“Hey,” You caught the attention of one of the tank attendants as you returned to your little counter by the entrance. “One of the catfish doesn’t look too hot. Just a heads up.”
It was always something of a relief to see genuine concern spark in the attendants eyes. She nodded, turning on her heel instantly with a, “I’ll go take a look. He probably just needs some TLC behind the scenes.”
Gut squirming with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, you spent the rest of your shift slinging coffees, anxiously watching the hallway leading into the aquarium, waiting for a familiar flash of bright hair. It was silly, how your thoughts revolved around the shy man who talked to himself and didn’t know how to order a coffee, and still, you couldn’t bring yourself to redirect your mind away from his gentle eyes and fidgeting fingers. Maybe you would watch for his exit, give him another tea on the house on his way out. Yeah, that would be nice, right?
Only he never passed by.
You chalked it up to timing. You must have been talking to a customer, or crafting a beverage with your back to the door when he left.
Thankfully, he returned the following day, and the day after that. You fell into an easy routine, a little something to look forward to during the daily grind. A tea first thing in the morning, and a quiet break shared by the goldfish pond, facing the catfish. Levi made sure to ask about the sick fish from the other day–who had made a speedy recovery–before launching into stilted conversation about whether you liked anime, and video games, and idols at all. Lucky for him, you did, and the sheer excitement flickering in his amber eyes eased your tongue into discussing your favorite genres and tropes.
“Have you watched anything new lately?” You posed, having just answered the same question from his mouth.
Balking, Levi shrunk in on himself for a moment, panic flashing in his eyes, though you weren’t entirely sure why. It was clear he was well-read when it came to anime and manga. Regardless, he shook off his initial surprise and glanced at the closest goldfish–particularly large with a few black spots breaking up the orange scales–as he told you, “There’s this new anime I’m checking out. It’s, uh, not very popular, but I… I like it.”
“What’s it about?”
“Merpeople!” The light in his eyes was brighter than the LEDs in the tanks. “The protagonist can control fish, but he doesn’t like to take advantage of them. All the other merpeople exploit the sea life around them, and they don’t understand why the hero doesn’t want to use his powers, but it’s because the fish are some of his closest friends!”
You beamed, leaning forward in interest. “Cool! Tell me more!”
Spending time with Levi was…nice. It was easy, which clearly came as a surprise to both you and Levi. He didn’t always say much, quick to burst through the cheesy aquarium music with a sudden exclamation, just to tug his headphones over his ears and retreat into his shell. It was almost like taking in a shelter cat. You had to wait for him to come to you, give him his space, show that you meant no harm with the offer of treats.
“Um, hey,” He drew your attention from your textbook, “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
Your neck cracked with the intensity with which you regarded him. “Wait, what?”
You had never been more grateful for the privacy the dolphin exhibit granted the freshwater fish room. It allowed you to let your walls down, the smack of your book hitting the ground lost on all ears save for two.
Levi stared at the goldfish circling the pond enclosed in glass at the back of the benches. “I just wanted to let you know. Uh, not like you’d wait for someone like me or anything!”
There was this strange lurching in your chest, your heart hammering in a rhythm reminiscent of a plea– don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. Your tongue felt entirely too big in your mouth, your teeth grinding a reasonable explanation to dust. Disappointment tasted surprisingly similar to tea that had been steeped for far too long, bitter and sour, clinging to the back of your throat.
“Okay,” was all you managed to respond, averting your eyes as a sad sort of resignation flitted across Levi’s face.
That last afternoon by the guppies, the barbs, and the tetras was awkward, for lack of a better word. Thick tension coated your movements, sticking to your fingers with the weight of water resistance as you thumbed through your textbook. Levi gravitated towards the catfish, sitting in front of the tank and scribbling in his notebook like the very first day you found him there. It warmed your heart, how he spoke so softly, words inaudible from your distance, and you wondered if maybe he hadn’t been talking to himself, but to the fish. Your suspicion was as close to confirmed as possible when you caught him smiling at the previously ill catfish. It was nice of him to care so much about the little creature.
Maybe that was why his impending departure sat like a heavy stone in your stomach. There was this sincere kindness that coursed across Levi’s skin–sparked like static in the fibres of his anime hoodie and brightly colored hair–and it almost seemed to speak to his choice to be harmless, as if he had the means to be anything but. It reminded you of the first time you had ever been whale watching, that sensation of feeling unbelievably small in the presence of something so strong, yet so gentle. Levi’s company brought upon a certain safety, though you couldn’t quite decode why.
“Will you stop by before you leave tomorrow?” You asked, pausing at the entrance to the freshwater fish wing.
The solemn weight of Levi’s stare answered for him, but he still replied, “I’m leaving really early.”
“Ah, well,” you swallowed all the crazy claims that wished to spill from your chest. Instead, you returned to your shift with a strained smile, offering, “Safe travels, Levi.”
When your alarm went off at 3am the next morning, your first thought was of Levi. Had he already left town? Had he gotten to the airport okay? Was he even flying? You didn’t know.
Your second thought was stupid inventory shifts, please just let me sleep. Alas, your boss had promised you an extra dollar an hour if you were willing to count all the inventory in the café once a month, including syrups down to the ounce and each spoon used for layering foam. It wasn’t too much of a pain, if you were being honest. The hardest part was rolling out of bed in the dead of night, as it would take you an hour to get ready and arrive at the aquarium, but counting when no utensils were in use and everything was in its assigned spot on the shelf made the whole ordeal worth it. Besides, if you were really exhausted after counting, you could nap in your car before your morning shift started.
A hastily crafted instant coffee in hand, you unlocked the side door of the aquarium, prepared to tap in the code to shut off the security alarm. Only, the creaking hinges gave way to an eerie stillness, accompanied by the gurgling filters of the tanks and nothing more. Chest tightening as fear sparked in your catastrophizing brain, you slipped through the employees only door to your right and flicked on the staff room light.
“Okay,” You tried to steady your breathing, “The cleaners probably forgot to set the alarm. Yeah, that’s all it is. It’s not like there’s anyone in here…Right?”
You felt a lot safer brandishing a mop regardless. Unfortunately, most aquarium tools were relatively lightweight to make for easy handling in the water, but you had managed to find a mop with a solid wood handle. It was better than nothing, you supposed, your brain failing to convince yourself that this was all a false alarm.
Besides, who breaks into an aquarium?
As you carefully crept through the halls, the lights off save for the LEDs in the tanks, your breath came easier, your fingers ceased their trembling that was threatening to splinter the wood of the mop. You had searched over half the building and hadn’t encountered anyone. Sure enough, the cleaners must have–
SPLASH!
Your blood turning to ice, you pushed through your immediate flight response to rush towards the dolphin exhibit, your feet heavier than two cinder blocks. You knew better than to charge in blindly, but if you were going to call law enforcement, you needed proof that there was an intruder in the aquarium. Shifting to a stealthier approach as you entered the exhibit, you made sure not to make a single sound (a convenient pro of the ambient aquarium noise that was impossible to fully silence) as you crept around the corner of the large pool framed by bleachers.
You squinted at the sight, the surface of the water choppy and aggressive, appearing as if the liquid was boiling. A light emanated from the center of the tank, flashes of something deep in the water partnered with the swift circling of the dolphins. They leapt around the bubbling pool, chittering in what you hoped was delight, and yet you couldn’t make out any activity beyond the tank, no one lingering by the bleachers or standing in the tamer’s platform.
This time, you pressed forward with a morbid sort of curiosity, slinking down the tunnel that led to the underwater viewing area. What you saw took your breath away.
There, in the center of the dolphin tank, was Levi.
The mop clattered to the floor, your feet moving on their own accord as any fear was instantly eradicated from your system, that strange aura of safety enveloping you the moment you had laid eyes on the fantastical beast suspended in the water.
The merman hovered below the surface, his majestic tail–all shimmering violet scales and frilly, lavender fins–holding him in place with every subtle twitch of muscles. With his torso bare, you could easily make out the cluster of indigo diamonds dusting his hips where his scales transitioned to flesh, where his ribs sprouted pale gills in a ghostly shade of lilac. Horns of coral burst forth from his skull, dark obsidian veins warning of their sharp edges glinting between the soft sway of his bright hair dancing in the water’s current. All around him, a whirlpool raged, streams of bubbles caressing his skin as the dolphins dipped and dove to the flow of the tank.
His arms outstretched and his chin lifted, a warbling melody swelled throughout the room. Your skin burst into gooseflesh as you watched the light encasing Levi pulse in time with the notes rising like a choir, the sound reminiscent of whale song.
You were entranced, drawn to the light thrumming through his veins as if he was an anglerfish lurking in the deep depths of the ocean. Approaching in awe, you didn’t notice the way in which the mop had fallen, the wooden handle catching on your shoe. Stumbling forward, your movement must have caught Levi’s attention, for the haunting melody cut off abruptly, brilliant amber eyes slamming into you with the force of a tsunami.
Then, just as the undertow threatened to drown you in his otherworldly stare, his gaze softened, lilac lashes fluttering as he blinked recognition into his eyes. The rapid swell of the current ceased, the merman breaking his position to waggle his tail, to surge towards the edge of the tank. As you splayed your palms against the cold glass, he mirrored your movements, pale webbing stretching between each finger, quivering where the water pushed and pulled against the thin flesh.
“Don’t be afraid,” his voice echoed within your skull, transmitted telepathically. He regarded you with shame, as if he was embarrassed that you had caught him in such a position. “I won’t hurt you.”
And all you could do was laugh, tears dotting the corners of your eyes, the sheer splendor before you provoking an emotional response. You beamed at him, lost for words, and even submerged in water, his cheekbones burned that delightful pink.
“I was summoned to free the dolphins, and that is all I intend to do,” He dipped his head, averted his eyes in that nervous manner you’d come to expect from the strange man. “You…You won’t ever see me again.”
Then, he lifted his twinkling amber eyes, gemstones lined with spidering violet, and smiled wider than you had ever seen him smile. “Thank you, for being kind to me. It was…n-nice knowing you.”
With that, the light began to pulse once more, building in intensity until you had to shield your eyes from the tank. The cry of the dolphins surged, their movements faster, cutting through the streams of bubbles with aerodynamic ease. As Levi raised his arms, continued his chant, the light overwhelmed you, rendering you a blind, stupefied statue as it burst forth in an awesome supernova.
When your ears stopped ringing, you realized the aquarium had fallen silent once more. There were no more chirps from the dolphins, no undulating melody spewing from the tank. No, it was just the soft bubbling of the tank’s filter, and nothing else.
As you waited to open the café, you scrolled through social media on your phone, actively ignoring the uproar from the executives shouting at the aquarium managers. Dolphins don’t just disappear, they were arguing, the poor keepers insisting that the dolphins had been gone when they had arrived at work.
The algorithm handed you an article: Activists Free Dolphins, Claim Assistance from Sea Demon Leviathan.
You laughed, “It was nice knowing you too, Levi.”