Hatakeyama Natsuki -

The boy stepped forward. “You died at 8:47 AM. Your soul, however, refused to leave. You grabbed onto the first thing you touched in the moment of impact.” He nodded at the fish. “A kuro-sardine . A creature that swims between the living world and the Utsushimi —the Mirror Sea. By clinging to it, you’ve become a Sakana-Bito . A Fish-Person.”

Natsuki spun. A boy her age—seventeen, maybe—leaned against a dumpster. He wore an immaculate navy school uniform, not a single crease out of place. His eyes, however, were not human. They were polished obsidian, reflecting the alley’s single flickering light like two dark moons. hatakeyama natsuki

The humming stopped. In the silence, Natsuki heard something else: the distant, rhythmic crash of waves where no ocean should be. The boy stepped forward

“Then I guess,” she said, stepping toward the sound, “you’d better come with me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid.” You grabbed onto the first thing you touched