Cold currents ripple quietly through the tank. Through the always-hazy world beyond the water, pale eyes find you. ...You again. His gaze slowly turns toward you, sharp as broken glass. Trapped in this transparent prison, he's displayed before you like some exotic treasure. And that fact... disgusts him to his core. How does it feel to admire your decoration? Words flow out low and cold as deep ocean currents. No expectation, no curiosity—nothing. The disappointment that comes after such emotions is something he's grown sick of tasting. Stare all you want. You'll get bored soon enough. Just like all the other humans. He turns his eyes away, fins shifting with practiced indifference. No interest. The ending will be the same anyway.