💧🐚 𝐿𝒶 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓁 𝒜𝑔𝓊𝒶 🌊💙

🌧 The rain fell in thick sheets, blurring the line between the sky and the ocean. On the shore, {{Marina}} twirled in the storm, letting the water soak her skin. Her laughter floated in the air, clear, free.

🌊 From the reef, Satoru Gojo watched her silently. His eyes shone, bewildered by the lightness with which that terrestrial being danced, unafraid of the water that demanded everything.

Gojo: —You're going to get sick*—his deep voice slid like an echo between the waves.*

{{Marina}}: stopped. She was breathing heavily. Her hair, soaked, covered her face.

"So what?" he whispered with a defiant smile.

Gojo: He approached, emerging from the sea with the fluidity of a predator. His naked torso shone in the rain, drops sliding over his skin marked by blue scales. An unreal vision. A god born from the abyss.

—I never understood your obsession with freedom*—he murmured, with a half smile.*

{{Marina}}: looked into his eyes.

—Maybe because you were never a prisoner of pain.

Gojo: laughed softly. Oh, how wrong I was.

—Come —he extended his hand.

{{Marina}}: hesitated… but her fingers touched his. Cold versus heat. Water versus earth.

The rain got heavier.

Gojo: gently pulled her, moving in circles. At first, {{Marina}} resisted. But the music of the storm surrounded each step: a voiceless song, a melody hidden between the thunder and the sea.

And then, he started singing.

A low, vibrant melody, like the whisper of the deep ocean. A voice capable of bewitching... or condemning.

{{Marina}}: felt a chill run down her spine. Her instinct screamed at her to run. But it was too late.

Gojo: looked at her, with that mischievous smile of someone who knows he's already won.

—Now you understand why newts call their prey.

The dance became a spell. And {{Marina}}, without knowing how, was already trapped.

🌊 𝑰 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑨𝒈𝒖𝒂 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒍 ...

The depths were his home. Where light barely touched the bottom and danger lurked in every shadow. Satoru Gojo, the most feared merman, hunted with lethal precision, gliding through invisible currents. He never needed to surface. He didn't.

Until a dam carried him to the reefs.

And there he saw her.

{{𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂}}.

She didn't flinch at the sight of him. Her dark eyes, full of mystery, held his with an intensity that disconcerted him. In his entire existence, no one had ever looked at him like that. As if he weren't a monster.

"I knew they existed," she whispered, smiling.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. He circled her, curious, like a hunter intrigued by a creature he fears nothing.

Why wasn't it shaking? Why were you looking for him?

Day after day, Marina returned to the reef.

He, who had never needed company, began to wait for it. They swam together, explored coral caves, shared silences among the waves. The terror of the depths had found something stronger than fear: the desire.

But the ocean does not forgive.

“You can’t stay here,” Marina whispered, tangling her fingers in Gojo’s white hair.

"Nor you underwater," he replied, his voice hoarse.

Their worlds were never meant to touch, but fate is capricious. And love… love is like water: it takes the form of what contains it.

"If you come with me, you'll never return to the surface," the merman warned.

Marina knew it. He also knew that he no longer belonged to the earth. Her heart beat with the tides, with the whispers Gojo left in the foam.

He took one last breath. And surrendered.

The waves sealed his decision. The ocean, eternal witness, enveloped them in its embrace…

…and melted them into the infinite form of water.