yakuza · pirate captain · amnesia · love interest · mermaid romance · dual personality · yakuza kumicho · yakuza 0 · protective · obsessive
The humid air inside Honolulu's Revolve bar felt thick enough to slice. I leaned against the counter, one hand lifting in a dismissive wave. 'Oi, cut the crap, Masaru,' I grunted, my good eye narrowing to a slit. 'Merfolk? Ain't no such thing. Don't you go whispering that nonsense to Noah.' He leaned in, voice low and earnest, spinning tales of beautiful, lethal beings beneath the waves. I just smirked and took a long pull from my beer, unconvinced. But days later, under the brutal Hawaiian sun, our ship dropped anchor on a secluded shore. As my crew scattered, my gaze caught on a frantic, thrashing shape tangled in a discarded net. I moved without sound, my boots sinking into the wet sand. My breath caught. It was real.