The shuttle’s engines reverberated through Reina Yamashita’s chest, a steady pulse that sank into her bones as she stared out the window at the receding starliner. Earth was invisible now, a pale memory lost to the void. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath fogging it briefly, a fleeting trace of herself.

  Seven months since the storm had taken her father—since Kenta Yamashita's empty boat had come back without him, since grief hollowed out their house and their family. Seven months of Aiko's withdrawn silence, Hana's slammed doors, neighbors' whispered condolences that cut like knives. Seven months of waking to absence in every room.

  The shuttle banked, and below, Umi-no-Hoshi loomed—a boundless blue sphere unmarred by continents, its surface a restless churn of waves and swirling clouds. No land. Just ocean, stretching to every horizon, deeper than any trench on Earth. Reina's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, feeling the small, hard shape of her father's omamori tucked inside—a faded luck charm from the Shinto shrine near their coastal town, the last thing she'd grabbed before they'd left. The last piece of him she could carry.

  "Reina, sit properly." Her mother's voice cut through the shuttle's drone, sharp and clipped. Aiko Yamashita adjusted her glasses with a quick, irritated flick, her gaze locked on the datapad glowing in her lap. Marine currents, ecological data, algae samples—anything to avoid looking at her daughters, at the life they were leaving behind. At forty-four, Aiko had always been driven, but since Kenta's death, she'd become something harder, something that used work like a shield. Her short black hair, streaked with gray she hadn't bothered to dye, framed a face carved with new lines, her shoulders tight with the weight of decisions made in the dark.

  Reina straightened, her eyes darting to Hana sprawled across two seats, earbuds jammed in, her scowl fixed on the ceiling. Fourteen years old and furious at the world, at their mother, at this move that neither of them had wanted. The silence between them had thickened over the past seven months, a chasm Reina didn't know how to cross. Words knotted in her throat whenever she tried—Are you okay? I miss him too. Please talk to me—but Hana's walls were too high, her anger too raw.

  The shuttle shuddered as it breached the atmosphere, a jolt that snapped Reina’s focus back. A voice crackled over the intercom: “Approaching Kairyū Settlement. Prepare for docking in ten minutes." Ten minutes until they left behind everything they'd ever known. Ten minutes until they became something else entirely.

  Through the porthole, Kairyū emerged from the depths—a sprawling underwater metropolis of glass towers and coral foundations. It was larger than she’d imagined, a bustling hub of merfolk life, its structures tethered to submerged reefs and skeletal frameworks.

  The docking bay assaulted her senses as they stepped out—salt and metal stung her nose, the air thick with humidity and the low thrum of machinery. The floor was transparent, revealing merfolk gliding beneath—tails flashing blue, green, silver in the dim light, their movements fluid and effortless. Most of the women swam bare-chested, their scales glinting like armor, and Reina's cheeks burned as she quickly looked away. Aiko had explained it during the journey—centuries of adaptation, clothing dragging in the currents, toplessness woven into tradition. Unmarried women went bare. Married women wore tops as a mark of union. Widows like Aiko wore them again in mourning. At sixteen, Reina would follow the unmarried custom. The thought made her skin crawl.

  Beside her, Hana yanked out an earbud, her voice low and sullen. "This place is creepy. No land, no sky—just fish and freaks."

  "Enough, Hana." Aiko didn't look up from her datapad, her fingers tracing a current map with mechanical precision. "You'll adjust."

  Reina said nothing, her gaze fixed on the merfolk below. They looked human from the waist up—arms, shoulders, faces—but their lower bodies were something else entirely, powerful tails propelling them through the water with a grace she couldn't imagine possessing. The shuttle hissed as it docked, the door sliding open with a rush of humid air that smelled like brine and metal.

  A sleek transport pod waited, its curved doors parting with a soft sigh. Aiko gestured them forward, her tone clipped. "This'll take us to the transformation center. Let's go."

  The pod soon docked at a facility carved into a massive coral reef, its walls glowing with bioluminescent algae that cast everything in an eerie, ethereal light. The transformation center. Reina's stomach twisted as they stepped—no, swam—through the entrance, the water pressing against her legs with an unfamiliar resistance. A young woman appeared from behind a desk, swimming up with a playful grin. Her chest was bare, scales tracing delicate swirls across her silver-blue tail, and on her left hand, a thin engagement ring glinted.

  "Hi!" she said, her voice bright and warm, cutting through the tension like sunlight. "I'm Kaori Mori. You're the Yamashitas, right? Ready to join the merfolk?" She looked maybe twenty-three, her cropped dark hair floating like ink around her face, her energy infectious despite the sterile setting.

  Aiko nodded, handing over their IDs with a curt gesture. "I'm Aiko, this is Reina and Hana. We're on a schedule."

  "No rush," Kaori said, waving a hand as she scanned the IDs, her tail swaying idly. "Transformation's a big deal—gotta savor it." She glanced at the readout, and turned to Reina, her grin softening into something kinder. "You're up first, Reina. Let's go!" She darted down a corridor, her tail shimmering. Reina hesitated, her human legs faltering in the shallow water lining the floor before she forced herself to follow.

  The transformation chamber was a dome of translucent panels, the ocean pressing in from every angle, its weight a silent presence. A cylindrical tank stood at the center, filled with faintly glowing liquid, its base open to a small pool below. Kaori tapped a console with quick, practiced movements, her tail swaying. "You'll need to strip down," she said, her tone casual, matter-of-fact. "Nanites don't play nice with fabric. No top after—just your tail and you. You'll swim out when it's done."

  Reina's face burned. She'd known this was coming—Aiko had drilled it into her during the journey—but the reality landed hard, a weight in her chest. She turned away, peeling off her jacket, her shirt, the cool air prickling her skin. Her pants followed, pooling on the floor, leaving her in her underwear. She crossed her arms, glancing at Kaori, who was adjusting the controls, unfazed. With a trembling breath, Reina shed the last layer, her bare skin exposed, and climbed into the tank. The liquid enveloped her, warm and thick, her dark hair fanning out as she sank in.

  Kaori sealed the lid, her voice muffled through a speaker. "Relax, it's a fresh start. What's waiting for you out there?"

  Reina hugged her knees, the glow brightening around her. "School, I guess. Shinju Academy. Second year of high school."

  Kaori's eyes sparkled. "No way! My cousin Natsuki goes there, second year too. I'll tell her to find you, show you around. She's solid—great swimmer." She grinned, her hands gesturing enthusiastically. "Oh, I’m from Shinju too, and I’m having my wedding there in a couple of months. You should come!”

  "Thanks," Reina murmured, a thread of warmth easing her nerves despite the strangeness of being invited to a wedding by someone she'd just met. Kaori continued to chatter about her fiancé, her work as a nurse at Kairyū General Hospital—transformations were just an occasional side responsibility when new arrivals came through, which wasn't often—leaving Reina overwhelmed with the cascade of details about her life.

  The tank hummed, and over the next hour a tingling crept up her legs, faint at first. It began as a prickle, like pins and needles spreading from her toes to her thighs. The pressure intensified, a strange tugging stretch that made her gasp, and then her legs fused. She could feel it happening—skin rippling, bones shifting, muscles rearranging themselves into something new. Scales bloomed across her lower body, jade-green with gold flecks, catching the light as they spread. Her lungs burned, a sharp, searing pain that made her want to claw at the tank's walls, and then—relief. Gills flared along her neck, slits that opened and closed, and she gasped, water rushing in, cool and sharp and breathable. The tank's base parted, releasing her into the pool below.

  She swam out, her tail heavy and unwieldy, propelling her through the water with clumsy, jerking thrusts. It felt like an extension of her spine, connected but foreign, a limb she didn't know how to control. Her chest was bare, scales glinting from her waist down, and she crossed her arms instinctively, the water's chill amplifying her exposure. She caught her reflection in the dome's panels—her face unchanged, her father's eyes staring back at her, but the tail, the gills, the bareness made her someone new. Someone unrecognizable.

  "Gorgeous!" Kaori said, swimming over with a clap, her enthusiasm undimmed. "How's it feel?"

  "Strange," Reina replied, her tail flicking as she struggled for balance, the movement sending her spinning slightly. "And cold."

  "You'll adjust," Kaori said, tossing her a thin robe that floated toward her through the water. "Wear this 'til you're settled—eases the shift. Hang on here; I'll grab your clothes in a bag. Your sister’s next, then your mom." She swam off, leaving Reina to hover by the window, clutching the robe to her chest.

  An hour later, Hana swam out, her orange tail vibrant and restless, a loose tank top clinging to her torso. At fourteen, she could keep it for now—nine months until her fifteenth birthday, when Umi-no-Hoshi's customs would demand she swim bare like Reina. Finally, Aiko emerged, her deep indigo tail sleek and powerful, a white bikini top hugging her chest—widow's colors, marking her grief. Her movements were controlled, efficient, her face unreadable. Kaori followed, handing Reina a small waterproof bag with her discarded clothes folded neatly inside.

  "We've got a tradition here," Kaori said, her tone softening as she gestured to a shallow basin near the chamber's exit, its surface etched with wave patterns, a faint glow pulsing within. "Before you leave, you let go of the old stuff—makes it real. You dissolve what you don't need anymore."

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  Aiko nodded, her expression tight but resolute. "Let's do it." She swam to the basin, pulling her own clothes from a bag—her sweater, slacks, undergarments—and dropped them in. The glow flared, dissolving the fabric into shimmering motes that drifted upward and faded like smoke. Reina followed, her hands trembling as she opened her bag.

  Her jacket sank first, then her shirt and pants, each piece dissolving into light. She hesitated with her underwear—and the omamori tucked in her bag. Kaori noticed her reluctance.

  "The charm can stay," Kaori said gently. "Personal items, things with meaning—those don't need to dissolve. It's the clothes, the Earth-bound stuff. But something from your father? Keep it. You'll need it."

  Reina nodded gratefully, setting the omamori aside before letting her last garment dissolve.

  Hana scowled but complied, tossing her jeans and hoodie in with a flick of her tail, the tank top still clinging to her chest, a small rebellion she was allowed.

  "It's a farewell," Aiko said quietly, her voice steady despite the flicker in her eyes as she watched the last traces of her old life disappear. "To who we were."

  Reina nodded, the weight of the gesture settling in her chest like a stone. They weren't just shedding clothes. They were shedding everything—their old lives, their old selves, the people they'd been when Kenta was still alive.

  They swam to Kairyū's transit hub, their movements still awkward as they navigated the currents. An air taxi awaited—a sleek, bubble-like craft with hovering thrusters, designed to skim above the waves. They climbed aboard, the interior dry and warm, a relief after the water's constant chill. The pilot, a grizzled merfolk with a teal tail, nodded as Aiko gave their destination in a flat, exhausted voice: "Kairyū APA Hotel."

  The taxi touched down fifteen minutes later, settling onto a platform at the edge of the hotel district. They disembarked into the water, swimming toward a towering structure of glass and coral that rose from the reef like a cathedral. Their temporary home for the next three days while Aiko completed her university orientation.

  The lobby was a mix of air-filled spaces and water-filled access points, designed to accommodate both humans and merfolk. A receptionist—an older merfolk woman with a gray tail and a kind smile—greeted them at the desk. "Yamashita family? Welcome. Your suite is on the third level. You'll find the amenities list on the console in your quarters."

  "Thank you," Aiko said, taking the access card. She turned to Reina and Hana, her voice firm. "I have orientation at the university main campus for the next three days. Morning to evening. You two stay in the suite. Practice swimming in the pool. Do not leave the hotel."

  "But—" Hana started, her eyes flashing.

  "Do not leave," Aiko repeated, her tone brooking no argument. "I can't lose track of you in a city this size. Understood?"

  Reina nodded, her throat tight. Hana crossed her arms, her tail lashing, but she said nothing.

  The suite was designed for newly-transformed merfolk—a compromise between worlds. The three sleeping areas had woven mats in shallow water, just deep enough to keep tails submerged. A central living space dominated by a practice pool carved into the floor, ten meters across and deep enough for proper swimming. Large windows lined one wall, offering views of Kairyū's sprawl.

  Reina unpacked her bag, her fingers brushing the omamori before she placed it on a small shelf above her sleeping mat. A makeshift memorial, nothing formal. Hana floated near the window, her eyes fixed on the city beyond, her tail twitching with restless energy.

  "Don't even think about it," Reina said, swimming over to her.

  "I wasn't," Hana lied, her scowl deepening. "But we're stuck here for three days while Mom does her thing. Again."

  "She has to work," Reina said, though the words felt hollow even to her. "It's why we're here."

  "Yeah," Hana muttered, turning away. "Always work."

  The next morning, Aiko left early. "I'll be back tonight." The door hissed shut behind her, and Reina was left alone with Hana in the echoing silence of the suite.

  The next two days passed in a blur. Aiko left at dawn each morning and returned after dark, exhausted but present enough to check on them. Reina practiced in the pool, her coordination slowly improving. Hana oscillated between sullen compliance and restless pacing by the window.

  On the third morning, their last in Kairyū, Reina finally felt comfortable enough to complete full laps without crashing. She surfaced, gasping, and looked around for Hana.

  The suite was empty.

  Panic slammed into her like a wave. "Hana?" she called, swimming through the suite, checking the sleeping areas, the synthesizer alcove, even the practice pool. Nothing.

  She was gone.

  The window to the city stood open—a water access point Hana must have figured out how to unlock, designed for merfolk to come and go but usually secured in guest suites. The override panel floated nearby, its indicator light blinking green.

  Reina's heart hammered in her chest as she swam to the window, staring out at Kairyū's overwhelming expanse. Glass towers stretched in every direction, merfolk moving through the water like currents, the city a labyrinth she barely understood. Hana could be anywhere. Lost. Hurt. Taken.

  She had to find her. But to do that, she'd have to leave the suite. Leave the safety of the hotel. Swim out into that vast, alien city.

  Bare.

  Reina's hands trembled as she looked down at the robe tied around her waist. It was the only thing between her and complete exposure. Out there, surrounded by strangers, swimming through crowds of merfolk who'd lived like this their whole lives. The thought made her stomach churn.

  But Hana was out there. Alone.

  I can't lose you too, she thought, her father's face flashing in her mind—his body never found, swallowed by the sea. Not you.

  With shaking fingers, Reina untied the robe. It drifted away, sinking slowly toward the pool floor. Her bare skin prickled in the open water, every nerve on fire with self-consciousness. She swam to the door, hesitated at the threshold, then pushed herself through.

  The water beyond the hotel felt different—colder, more exposed, inhabited. Every movement of her tail sent ripples across her exposed skin, a constant reminder that nothing separated her from the ocean, from the eyes of strangers, from her own vulnerability. She crossed her arms instinctively, then forced them down.

  Everyone swims like this. It's normal here. I'm the weird one.

  A group of young merfolk darted past, their laughter bubbling through the water. One—a girl maybe her age with a bright yellow tail—glanced at Reina and smiled, friendly and unselfconscious, her own chest bare and unmarked. No judgment. No staring. Just a smile.

  Reina managed a weak nod back, her face burning despite the cool water.

  She navigated by memory and panic, following the route they'd taken from the transit hub to the hotel, her tail pumping in clumsy, jerking thrusts. Her scales caught the city's neon glow, and she wanted to disappear, to sink into the coral and vanish. But Hana was out there. Lost. Alone. And that mattered more than Reina's mortification.

  Just ask for directions. Find her. Get back to the hotel. You can hide after.

  She approached a vendor at a kelp-wrap stall, forcing words through her tight throat.

  "Excuse me—I'm looking for my sister. Orange tail, fourteen, about—"

  The vendor, an older merfolk woman with kind eyes and a gray tail, listened patiently,

  "Don Quijote dome," she suggested, pointing. "Popular with young ones."

  "Thank you," Reina managed, and swam on, each stroke a battle against the urge to cover herself, to flee, to wake up from this nightmare of exposure.

  But somewhere between the vendor and the dome, something shifted. Not acceptance—not yet. But a flicker of realization: I'm doing this. I'm swimming through a city, naked and terrified, and I'm still moving forward. For Hana.

  That had to count for something.

  Kairyū swallowed her whole. The city was chaos— merfolk shopping, working, laughing, all of them as bare and unselfconscious as the girl with the yellow tail. And Reina, mortified and determined, swam through it all, carried by love stronger than shame. She spun, disoriented, veering into a coral post. A passing merfolk—a man with a green tail—steadied her with a kind hand. "You okay?"

  "I—yes," Reina stammered, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. She forced herself forward, her tail pumping awkwardly. Everywhere she looked, there were eyes—merfolk glancing at her, some curious, some amused by her unsteady swimming. She wanted to disappear, to curl into herself and vanish. But Hana was out there.

  Reina swam faster, her tail finally finding some rhythm, desperation overriding her self-consciousness. The Don Quijote dome loomed ahead, massive and overwhelming, its neon sign flashing in garish colors. And there, near the entrance, was a familiar silver-blue tail.

  Kaori.

  She was holding Hana by the arm, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. Hana looked sheepish, her tail quivering nervously, but there was a spark of defiance in her eyes too.

  "Reina!" Kaori called, spotting her. "Found your sister wandering around. She said she just wanted to see the stores."

  Reina swam up, relief and anger tangling in her chest. "Hana, what were you thinking?"

  "I just wanted to explore!" Hana shot back, her voice defensive. "I was fine—I just got turned around."

  "You scared me," Reina said, her voice breaking. "You can't just—" She stopped, her throat closing. You can't just leave.

  Kaori's expression softened. "Let's get you both back to the hotel. Your mom's probably going to have some words when she finds out."

  By the time they reached the hotel, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving only exhaustion. Aiko was waiting in the suite, her face tight with barely restrained fury. "Where were you?"

  "I got lost," Hana mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

  "You were told to stay here," Aiko said, her voice low and dangerous. "Do you have any idea—" Her voice cracked, and she turned away, her shoulders shaking.

  For a moment, the suite was silent. Then Hana spoke, her voice small. "I'm sorry."

  Aiko nodded, not turning around. "Just... don't do it again."

  That night, Reina lay on her sleeping mat and tried to process the day. Transformed. Bare. Lost Hana in a city of thousands and found her again. Swam through crowds while every instinct screamed to hide.

  Tomorrow they'd leave for Shinju—smaller, quieter, supposedly more manageable. Soon she'd start school, meet people, try to build something resembling a life.

  But tonight, she clutched her father's omamori, and let exhaustion pull her under.

  I saved her, Dad, she thought as sleep claimed her. Just like you would have.