"Found it? Really?"
Lansi was overjoyed. He broke away from Winsor and swam straight toward Quirrell.
Winsor had no choice but to follow behind.
By the time Lansi reached Quirrell, the creature had shrunk to the size of a glowing jellybean.
"Yes, look," Quirrell said flatly.
To help Lansi see better, Quirrell turned white and luminous, floating upward like an incandescent bulb to illuminate the bow of the ship.
Sure enough, the words carved on the wreck were clear: Queen Mary.
Lansi burst into tears.
This was it—his beginning. The source of everything. He had finally found it.
"It's still intact," he whispered, eyes filled with disbelief. "I thought it would be broken."
In his nightmares, the Queen Mary had been torn apart by sea monsters, piece by piece. But the wreck before him was far less damaged than he remembered. Though several parts of the cabin were clearly deformed, suggesting some violent impact, the ship had not been obliterated.
"It's too late to explore now. We'll look tomorrow," Winsor said, swimming up and gently patting Lansi on the head.
Lansi glanced at the dark interior. He couldn't see a thing, so he reluctantly agreed.
Just as the two were about to leave, Quirrell swam up and blocked Lansi's path.
Startled, Lansi blinked. "What is it?"
Quirrell rubbed his tentacles, suddenly shy.
"Can you be my teacher? I want to learn how to play the drums like you."
Teach an octopus to play drums?
Lansi thought the world had gone insane. He was about to say no, but the sight of Quirrell glowing and staring at him with bright eyes made him pause.
"Alright," he said slowly. "But you have to do exactly as I say."
"Yes! Yes!" Quirrell shouted, raising a tentacle solemnly. "Teacher, if you tell me to go east, I'll never go west!"
"Deal," Lansi said, issuing his first command. "Let's start with the basics. Tonight, if you're free, try building a simple drum stand like the one I had."
"No problem!"
Quirrell straightened his tentacles like a soldier and darted off.
Lansi sighed in relief, only to turn and see Winsor watching him with a strange expression.
"What?"
"Don't you think that sounded familiar?"
Lansi stared, then fell silent.
Now that he thought about it, wasn't that exactly how he had pestered Winsor back in the coral bones?
Except… he hadn't really followed Winsor's instructions back then.
Embarrassed, Lansi touched his nose and quickly changed the subject.
"Let's find a place to sleep. Staying up late causes hair loss."
Winsor raised his eyebrows and wrapped an arm around Lansi's waist.
"Together?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't we?" Lansi said. He was completely used to Winsor's tail curling around him at night.
They found a cabin inside the wreck. The bed was still intact, so for the first time, they slept on an actual mattress.
Two tails, one black and one white, curled gently together. Their gauzy fins covered them like a blanket, making them look like a couple cuddling under the sheets.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the water and into the cabin.
Lansi wrinkled his nose in his sleep. Eyes still closed, he buried his face into Winsor's black tail fin.
Ever since turning into a mermaid, Lansi's nerves had been on edge. Even the slightest disturbance would wake him. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in ages.
But now, with Winsor beside him, he felt safe.
It was the best sleep he'd had in a long time.
Winsor woke as Lansi stirred. Watching Lansi nuzzle closer, he couldn't help but smile.
"It's morning. Aren't you getting up? The Queen Mary's waiting."
"No. Don't care."
Lansi's voice was thick with sleep. His eyes stayed shut as he pressed in closer.
"I want to sleep."
He sounded drunk with exhaustion, completely relaxed.
But outside, an excited voice shattered the peace.
"Teacher! Get up and teach me drums!"
A loud, off-beat clanging followed, like someone hammering iron with no rhythm at all.
The jarring noise startled Lansi awake. He shot up and glanced at Winsor.
Their sleeping position was... compromising.
As the banging continued, the drowsy, intimate mood between them vanished.
With a swish, Lansi untangled himself from Winsor and bolted out through the cabin window.
"Stop it!" he shouted at Quirrell, who was still noisily striking metal objects.
The clanging stopped immediately.
Back inside, Winsor flicked his tail and looked around the cabin once more.
Human craftsmanship...
Half an hour later, Winsor sat eating sashimi, watching Lansi scold Quirrell like a schoolteacher.
Apparently, the racket had left Lansi thoroughly traumatized.
"Noise can trigger heart attacks," Lansi lectured, tapping a stick against the scattered pieces of metal Quirrell had collected. He was trying to assemble a makeshift drum stand.
"I was wrong, teacher!" Quirrell declared, full of admiration. Whatever Lansi said, Quirrell agreed with a fanatical glow in his eyes.
Lansi rolled his eyes, then continued trying to instill the idea that resisting noise pollution was a universal duty.
Whether Quirrell actually understood, Lansi didn't care.
The problem was, there weren't enough materials to make a proper drum stand. His webbed claws weren't built for craftsmanship, and the seabed didn't exactly have a hardware store.
Watching the half-formed drum stand fall further from his mental image, Lansi sighed dramatically and howled in despair.
Quirrell's shiny eyes made it impossible to give up entirely.
Was he doomed to die as a mentor? Or just as a very tired one?
Then Lansi remembered something.
The Queen Mary had a band on board. If they were lucky, maybe some instruments had survived in the wreckage.
At the very least, Quirrell could see what a real drum stand looked like.
"I have an idea," Lansi said, sharing it with Quirrell.
"I'm coming too!" Quirrell lit up like a neon sign. "I'll light the way!"
"Perfect."
With the lighting problem solved, Lansi was relieved.
He found Winsor to let him know. To his surprise, Winsor had not only prepared breakfast, but had also collected a group of small, fist-sized jellyfish.
They floated nearby like glowing balloons. Though untethered, none of them dared to float away.
"These jellyfish contain luminescent blue algae. They can light up dark spaces," Winsor explained, handing Lansi a fillet.
"You're amazing," Lansi said between bites. "Being with you is the best."
Winsor raised his chin slightly, accepting the compliment with quiet pride.
He liked being prepared for everything.
Once everything was set, the group entered the wreck: Lansi, Winsor, Quirrell, and their jellyfish light bulbs.
Though the Queen Mary had lost its former luster, stepping inside awakened vivid memories for Lansi.
"This is the observation deck," he said, comparing the current debris with what he remembered.
Last time, he had walked these halls. Now, he swam through them.
He pulled Quirrell along and turned left. After a corridor, they entered a vast, open room.
"Wow, it's huge," Quirrell marveled, brightening himself to full power.
Despite the damage, the Queen Mary's opulence still showed. Broken crystal chandeliers, a long dining table, a stage in the southeast corner—evidence of past luxury remained, albeit draped in seaweed.
"This used to be the ballroom," Lansi said. "I came to a party here once."
Quirrell and Winsor had already swum over to the corner. Curious, Lansi followed.
There, in the shadows, was the skeletal remains of a piano.
It had been nailed to the floor, so it was still in place, though most of it had deteriorated. The keys were broken, the strings inside protruded in twisted arcs.
"That's a piano," Lansi explained.
But inside the instrument was a human skull.
Lansi stared in silence.
He didn't want to imagine how the humans died. Perhaps it had all happened so fast, they never had time to escape.
"There are more instrument remains here," Winsor said, pointing to a dark, oozing pile in the corner.
Among the metal fragments, Lansi spotted what looked like a flute.
He moved to retrieve it, but Winsor stopped him.
"Trust me. You don't want to know what that black goo is," Winsor said meaningfully.
Lansi shivered.
Quirrell, unaware of the tension, rummaged around and shrieked with delight.
"Teacher! Come look!"
Behind the curtain at the back of the stage, he had found several broken drums and a bent metal drum stand.
Lansi swam over and recognized the room—a backstage lounge.
He helped Quirrell set up the drum stand, restoring it as best he could.
"This is the structure. Study it well."
Quirrell nodded eagerly, absorbing every detail.
While he did that, Lansi continued searching.
In a toppled cabinet, he found a locked case.
"What's that?" Winsor asked.
"A bass guitar case," Lansi said, eyes shining.
The lock was pointless. He popped it open with a claw and discovered a pristine bass inside.
He held it, pretending to strum a few notes.
Of course, sound didn't travel well underwater.
Lansi sighed and prepared to return the bass to the case—when something caught.
"Wait. There's another compartment," Winsor said.
Lansi blinked and checked.
There was a hidden layer beneath the bass.
Inside it… was a sniper rifle.
Lansi stared.
"…There was a killer in the band?"