The Fish That Refuses to Sleep

"The Fish That Wouldn't Sleep" Subtitle: Before the Bubble Introduction The first time Shouye saw Wu Mian's true form was late at night when he had insomnia. She stared at the ceiling in a daze, and the white beads on her chest suddenly became hot. A blue light overflowed from her collar and fell on the pillow, condensing into a small, palm-sized figure. She almost screamed. That's a little mermaid. The tail is a gradient of ice blue, and the scales glow with a fine sheen under the moonlight, like a handful of diamonds sprinkled on it. The upper body was that of a young man, with facial features that were too delicate to be true. His silver-white hair was wet and stuck to the sides of his cheeks. A pair of aqua blue eyes were staring at her, with a hint of guilt and embarrassment about being caught. "... What are you looking at?" He said. The sound was muffled, like the echo from deep under the sea. Vigil was stunned for three seconds, then stretched out his finger and poked his face. Soft, cool, smooth. Wumian's face turned red and he slapped her hand away, but because she was too small, the force on her hand was like being slapped on the tail by a small fish. "Don't touch!" He said fiercely. Watching his flushed face, Vigil suddenly smiled. That was her first sincere smile after being taken back to Shoujia. From then on, she had one more secret. During class, Wumian shrunk down to the size of her thumb and hid in her pencil case to sleep. Occasionally, she would turn over and throw out a string of tiny bubbles with her tail, which she would block with her textbook. When he got stuck on a question, he would poke half of his head out of his pencil case and say lazily: "The auxiliary lines are drawn crookedly, you idiot." She glared at him, but obediently erased and redrawn the drawing. Sometimes she deliberately didn't listen to his prompts and insisted on solving it by herself. He would snort, withdraw and ignore her, but within five minutes he would pop up again to peek at her progress. She found that he was tough-talking. He kept saying "human beings are really troublesome" and "I don't care about you", but when she stayed up late, he would wrap his tail around her wrist and drag her back to signal that it was time for her to sleep; when she forgot to eat breakfast, he would use his spiritual power to stir up a breeze and blow the bread away. The fragrance blew right under her nose; when she was trembling with anger from her grandparents and squatting alone in the garden, he could sense her emotions and transformed into a body from the beads. He sat small and quietly next to her without speaking, watching the same moon with her. "Why did you come out?" She asked hoarsely. "... It's stuffy inside," he said. She didn't expose him. There is a strange tacit understanding between them. She never said thank you, and he never said "I care about you." But she knew that every time she was almost unable to hold on any longer, the beads on her chest would heat up slightly, like a small heart beating the beat of her heart. He also knew that after she finished her homework, she would dim the desk lamp, lie on the table, expose the beads, and let the moonlight shine on them - that was when she was accompanying him. But he never told her that his tail was becoming transparent little by little. Every time you use your spiritual power, the bubble gets closer and closer. He didn't know how long he could hold on. One night, she suddenly asked him: "Will you leave?" He was stunned. She didn't look at him, lowered her head, held the corner of the quilt with her fingers, and said in a very soft voice: "You are not an ordinary patron saint, right? You have your own name, your own temper, your own past... You will not stay in a bead forever." He was silent for a long time. Then he transformed into a body, this time it was not a palm-sized little mermaid, but the size of a normal boy - silver hair hanging down his shoulders, a blue tail trailing to the ground, the moonlight filtering in from behind him, like coating him with a layer of frost. He stretched out his hand and gently placed it on the back of her hand. It was cool and slippery, like sea water flowing through her fingers. "I won't leave until you don't need me," he said. She looked up at him, her eyes red, but she didn't cry. She held his hand with her backhand. "Then you'd better be prepared," she said, her voice trembling a little but very forcefully, "I will probably never be able to 'need' you anymore in my life." He was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head and curved the corners of his mouth in a very small arc. "... Got it." The tip of his tail gently wrapped around her wrist, like a small, silent agreement. At the same time, something was slowly crawling in the corner of the ceiling. It's been a long time coming. Wait for this girl to give all her trust, and wait for this fish to exhaust its last spiritual power. Wait until that day—— It would make them both disappear together. This is a bet about "keeping" and "being defended". She guarded her night and refused to bow to any pair of eyes. He watched her night, knowing that he would eventually become a bubble. And before the bubble—— There was a roaring sound in the wind, and there were ghosts and shadows. Some people were sharpening their knives, and some were hiding their knives in their smiles. The two of them, just the two of them. He is a fish that refuses to sleep. She was the reason why he refused to sleep. Purpose: This is a story about "how people who have had everything taken away learn to believe again." Their relationship is not about "a prince rescuing the princess", but about two people with fate choosing to trust and protect each other under the pressure of the bubble countdown. He taught her to accept kindness, and she taught him that humans are not beyond redemption. Before the bubble, they chose to believe in each other. Because love is not about saving, but that I am willing to hold on for you for one more second.