Chapter 9
The sight before me was so pathetic I was stunned speechless. Jelly whispered in my ear.
“Master, I know missing dinner because of that man was upsetting, but just a moment ago, I honestly thought you were one of those fish-obsessed sea bass friends.”
“Jelly.”
“I apologize.”
“Go bring the glowstone.”
Darkness had fallen. The light of the moon and stars wasn’t enough to fend off the night sea’s gloom. That’s why the glowing stones we’d found underwater were handy substitutes for lamps.
“I’ll set it down here.”
Jelly respectfully placed the round glowstone right in the empty space between me and Ian, who were sitting together.
“….”
As the light pushed away the darkness, his face became clearly visible.
Jet-black hair like the night sky, a navy earring that suited him well, and golden eyes with a hint of warmth beneath gently sloped eyes. He looked at me.
His face gave off a cold impression, yet there was also a soft air about him—a strange kind of charm.
His expressionless face flickered with unreadable emotions again and again.
His gaze stayed fixed on me, so I met his eyes head-on and didn’t look away.
“I should have introduced myself earlier. Thank you for saving me.”
Just as we’d been locked in a staring contest for a while, he finally spoke. I quickly shook my head.
“No, it wasn’t me who saved you. It was that jellyfish over there.”
“The jellyfish?”
“Yes. A bit clueless, but it talks. And it’s got some strange abilities too.”
“Saved by a jellyfish… that’s certainly something.”
“Right? It saved me too.”
“Then I owe my life to the jellyfish. Thank you.”
Jelly, who was lying down sipping seaweed juice, lifted his shoulders in pride at Ian’s gratitude.
The simple-minded jellyfish was weak to praise and seemed eager to hear more.
“Master, what do you think? Should we make that human one of our allies?”
“Would you stop it.”
Taking him in as an ally was out of the question.
Even if our interests currently aligned and we were helping each other temporarily, I was still a fugitive—a criminal on the run.
Who in their right mind would willingly join a runaway at sea? Even if, by some miracle, Ian agreed, I had no desire to get involved with anyone.
The freedom I longed for was this: to prove I could be happy on my own. No pain from others, no anxiety, no fears.
“Sorry, Mr. Admiral. Our jellyfish has been through a lot.”
“No worries. Besides, I’m no longer part of the navy.”
“Oh.”
I looked toward the navy uniform I’d taken off him. Of course, he didn’t mean that—he must’ve left the navy sometime after that day.
“I see. Well, there’s plenty to do besides being in the navy. Mr. Admiral—or, Ian?”
“Please, just call me Ian.”
He carefully stood, avoiding the dried fish near him, and asked,
“Is that alright?”
“Of course. It’s no big deal. You can just call me by my name too. You know it, right?”
“Yes, Kanoe.”
Lifting the uniform jacket, Ian nodded. Only Jelly seemed slow to catch on.
“Wait, Master… did you already know this guy?”
“Yeah, sort of. We pulled a job together once.”
I hadn’t explained anything, but Jelly made a face like he understood.
“Ohhh. So he’s the navy officer who helped you escape, right?”
“Don’t just call him ‘that guy.’ Say ‘Mr. Ian.’”
“I only follow Master. If he becomes our ally, then maybe I’ll call him by name.”
Ally, again. Why was this conversation always heading in that direction?
I pressed my finger against Jelly’s forehead, and his squirming tentacles wrapped around my hand. I couldn’t tell if this jellyfish had tact or not.
“He’s funny, that talking jellyfish.”
Ian chuckled. I wondered if he’d still laugh like that after hearing how hard we’d struggled to survive out here. But I decided not to bring up any tragic stories—for his sake.
After all, every day was a tragedy. Damn it.
Clutching my hungry stomach, I looked up at him, hoping he could start a fire.
“Hey, Ian. Remember what we were talking about earlier?”
“You’re hungry.”
“…I meant, can you light a fire?”
“In these conditions, with no proper tools? Only an esper could manage that.”
Looking around at the meager supplies, Ian answered calmly. I sank in despair. At this rate, I’d need to find an island tomorrow and search for tools to make a fire.
“You’ve been catching fish and drying them, haven’t you?”
My last shred of hope faded, and I didn’t even have the energy to respond. I just nodded, my shoulders drooping.
“This is far from the otter life I imagined.”
I could swear I heard laughter above my head. I glared up at Ian. This is your fault!
“Did you know? I was going to demand everything you had in exchange for my dinner.”
“And now?”
“You looked like you had nothing, so I let it go.”
He looked like a mess—half-dead and barely holding on.
I didn’t ask what he’d been through, because I could easily guess what might happen to someone who helped a fugitive escape.
“I see.”
He might never be the ally Jelly hoped for, but at least for tonight, we were companions adrift on the same boat.
It was the most kindness I could offer a one-night companion.
“But the way you’re smiling makes me feel kind of cheated. You’re in the same boat as I am.”
I pulled my knees up and rested my chin on them. Ever since I awakened my water ability, I could absorb mana from the sea to stave off hunger.
But to get actual nutrients, I still needed food. What worried me more than hunger was realizing I couldn’t live like this forever.
“Did you hear? That guy killed a guest at his own hotel.”
“You don’t say! And with such an innocent face—he even tried to hurt a friend!”
“Horrible. Like a jealous witch.”
How far had the rumors spread already? Maybe the smaller islands farther from the capital hadn’t heard yet?
Ugh, moving from island to island, looking for things to sell—what a pain.
“Kanoe, do you like seafood?”
“Well, I think I’ve eaten more fish here than I have my whole life.”
Ian bent one knee and sat in front of me, then suddenly said something strange.
“The central region isn’t too fond of seafood, after all.”
“I’ve had grilled fish before.”
“Did you know that properly prepared seafood can be eaten raw?”
I stared blankly, watching the glowstone’s blue light reflect off Ian’s face.
To me, he looked like a sea god who had descended to feed a starving people.
“Really? Even without fire?”
“Yes, even without fire.”
He let out a soft, breathy laugh. A smile curved his lips gently. Something glittered from within his coat.
“This is the perfect place for sashimi.”
He pulled out a well-sharpened dagger.
“So, how about another job together—just like last time?”
He looked out across the vast night sea. His golden eyes reminded me of a hungry beast.
✦ ✦ ✦
“No way…”
As the white, tender flesh touched my tongue, it melted instantly. No fishy smell, not too salty—just the right flavor lingered on my palate.
“Does it taste alright?”
Ian, holding the knife, continued slicing the fish. The fish that had been flopping moments ago now lay filleted with its milky-white flesh exposed.
“It’s not just ‘alright.’ Why was I struggling this whole time?”
“Master, may I have this clam?”
“You already ate three! Why is a jellyfish who had dinner still so greedy?”
I moved the shell we were using as a plate away from Jelly, who generously offered the sashimi back.
“Well, Master should eat. I’m so touched that our Master is finally having a proper meal.”
Jelly dabbed seawater on his eyes with a tentacle. Ian handed him another piece of sashimi with a smooth flick of his knife.
“You must’ve gone through a lot.”
Jelly gratefully gobbled it up.
“Oh, don’t get me started. On the first day here, we didn’t even have water. Master nearly collapsed from drinking seawater!”
“Kanoe did?”
“Of course it was Master. Ever heard of a jellyfish collapsing from drinking seawater?”
“…No, never.”
And another piece. This guy’s cheeks puffed up more and more as he talked.
“Anyway, just as Master was about to turn into a dried sea cucumber—bam! It started raining.”
“Want more?”
“Yes!”
This jellyfish would follow a predator into the deep sea if it meant more food. I inserted myself between Ian and Jelly, who were becoming fast friends.
Behind Jelly’s smiling, chewing face, Ian looked at me, then glanced at the empty clam shell and asked kindly,
“Would you like some more?”
Soon, the plate was piled with sashimi again. I returned to my spot and naturally took a bite of the white-fleshed fish.
“…Damn.”
I meant to say “Don’t you dare seduce my jellyfish,” but it was too late.
