Archive of Our Own

The first breath of air was always the worst.

Azul coughed and hacked as the tepid air bit into his lungs, felt his heart rate pick up as he adjusted to the human form. The potion’s aftertaste was as unpleasant as ever, and while the transformations were never as painful as his very first they were still bad enough for him to need to float for a few minutes and catch his breath.

On either side of him he could hear the twins struggling similarly; by unspoken agreement they always went through the process simultaneously.

“That was worse than normal,” Jade rasped on his right after a few minutes had passed.

“Mm.” Azul brought his legs down to the sandy seabed under the water’s surface, stood carefully. “Maybe because it’s been such a while.”

It was the end of summer break, so it’d been a few months since they’d been on the land. They were on their way back to Night Raven a week early so that they could get used to being in human form again and so that they could finish preparing the dorm for the new academic year. Azul had spent a sizable chunk of time over the holidays perfecting his plans for his new restaurant, and he was eager to get it all set up in time for the opening ceremony.

They made their way up the beach unsteadily, stumbled over to the rock where they’d left their clothes.

The differences between the way people on land looked at Azul compared to the way they looked at him under the sea felt particularly stark as they walked into the nearest town and no one looked at him askance. People didn’t stop what they were doing to ogle him like some kind of oddity; they didn’t look at him with suspicion, as if the very fact that he had eight extra arms and no tail made him more likely to commit a crime or something.

It was refreshing, and a small part of Azul wondered, not for the first time, if he could just stay in human form forever. With the potion’s help, theoretically….

Azul took out his pen as they all entered the store which housed the town’s public access mirror. You couldn’t get a link to Night Raven without proof of authorisation. “Ready?” He glanced at the twins behind him.

“Sure,” Floyd shrugged. “We can always come back here durin’ term time, after all.”

“Let’s get to school,” Jade agreed.

Azul nodded, tapped the mirror’s frame with his pen. “Night Raven College.”

“That was a joke. A J-O-K-E.” The merboy spells it out in a mocking drawl, staring down at where the younger version of Azul crouches defensively. “You can take a joke, right, Octy?”

“Don’t call me Octy,” Azul whispers.

“Sorry,” and Azul almost thinks he’s apologising when the merboy continues, “did I hurt your feelings again, Octy?”

“He’s just an octopus,” one of the others sneers. “My daddy says they don’t have feelings to hurt.”

“Yes, we do,” Azul says; still hasn’t learnt how and when to shut up.

“We weren’t talking to you!” All three of them round on him. You were talking about me, Azul almost mumbles, but they loom closer over him and he cowers back.

“Sorry…”

“Just go away!”

“You dumb octotwerp!”

“No one wants to be friends with you, stupid!”

Azul battles the urge to cry, bites down into his wobbling lip. “O-okay then…”

“Silly little octotwerp,” the merboy ringleader calls after him as he slinks away. “Go and cry to your momma. No one else wants to hear.”

Azul just about manages to wedge himself into his favourite nook, away from unkind eyes, before he starts to cry.

The scene shifts, becoming darker. They’re, they’re chasing him this time, and his stupid weak arms are no match for their strong tails and streamlined bodies and they corner him again, and again, and again, and laugh, and make as if to bite him (and some of them actually do), and he’s, he, the frustration and fear and despair all boil inside of him as he tries to flee. Everything he tries to do elicits more laughter, and when he screams at them to stop they just laugh harder and toss more insults his way. There’s nowhere for him to hide like he wants to– he’s too out in the open. One of them snaps at his face and he cringes away, throwing his arms up as if that’ll do anything to protect him and—

He woke up.

Woke up, and he was alone and safe in the air.

He sat up straight away, fumbled around in the dark for his glasses. Those, those weren’t tears left on his face, they weren’t; he was stronger than that, more than just a crybaby now.

Azul flicked his lamp on. It was still the middle of the night, but he didn’t want to go back to sleep and risk revisiting the memories again, so he got out of bed and sat down at his desk. He’d just get ahead on his homework now and then have an earlier start than usual– that would be fine. Nothing wrong with that, especially with the way his housewarden duties and work at the Lounge had begun to pile up against his schoolwork.

As he started to plan out his essay, though, he couldn’t help but find himself returning to the dream, the memories. Dwelling on the way everyone’d looked at him and the things they’d said about him.

Him and his stupid slow octopus body that was no good in a fight.

His pen dug deeper into the page as the thought crossed his mind, almost hard enough to tear a hole in the paper. The logical part of Azul knew that it was probably mostly the sleep deprivation and workload making everything feel worse than it actually was, but he felt like he’d swallowed acid just thinking about his natural form.

…Technically, he didn’t have to go back to the sea until at least spring break, did he? Didn’t have to shift again either, not if he kept taking the potion as prescribed.

And, well, he was busy, wasn’t he? Surely no one could criticise him for being diligent, for not neglecting his duties, for making money. He had clients who needed him, and students who relied on him to govern their dorm, and assignments that always needed doing, so…

He’d tell everyone (well, the twins mostly) that he was too busy, and they’d have to accept it. It made sense, was more logical than emotional, Azul told himself. He banished the memories from his head and bent over his essay plan again.

He didn’t even need to exaggerate about the being busy thing; as the autumn term progressed he had more and more to do until he didn’t have even a drop of spare time. Which was fine. He would rather be busy than be idle, and his new business was going well.

Still, the lack of free time to relax meant that his temper wore thin quickly, and the twins, being the twins, took full advantage of that. Floyd seemed to delight in every opportunity to push at Azul’s patience, and while Jade never tried to provoke him Azul noticed how he never seemed to curb Floyd in any way, either. He frequently had to leave the room to stop himself from snapping at them.

Of course, the weather didn’t help his patience much either. He tried to spend as much time as he could inside, where the temperature was bearable and the air conditioned, but during flight class being outdoors was unavoidable.

Don’t complain, you’ve dealt with worse, Azul told himself firmly one day as the sun beat down. Now was not the time to start whining out loud about the glare of the sun in his eyes or the way he could feel his skin drying out. PE class was shameful enough as it was.

He focused on the broom in his hands, directed all his mental power on making it levitate. That was easy enough; he swung a leg over, cautious to not overbalance, and—

“Ashengrotto, you all right there?” Coach Vargas boomed, breaking his concentration so he stumbled and barely avoided falling over.

Azul scowled down at the ground for a few seconds. It was like the coach’d timed it to distract him at exactly the wrong moment. “I’m fine,” he grit out. Worked to rearrange his features into the usual amicable mask and looked up to meet the coach’s gaze. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” the coach shrugged. “You just seemed… uncomfortable. You’re not having any problems, are you?” His eyes were hidden behind his shades, face barely readable because the sun was in Azul’s eyes, but Azul would’ve been willing to bet money that he was smirking.

Azul calmed his temper and spread that businessman smile across his face. “I’m a little warm, but that’s all. I’ll have this mastered by the end of the hour.”

Stupid, stupid, don’t put time limits on things you can’t guarantee, but the folly was done and that was a full-blown smirk on Vargas’s face. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing it.” He turned and walked off, whistling to himself.

Shit. Azul wiped sweat off his forehead– moisture he couldn’t really afford to lose– and rolled his sleeves up a little more.

As time passed, he became even more aware of how dry it was; the lack of moisture in the air, the rapid evaporation of his sweat, the way the sun beat down relentlessly and his uniform just got hotter and hotter. The way his arms got warmer and warmer to the point of being painful was distracting beyond belief; he worked as hard as he could but it was difficult when he felt himself physically drying out. On top of that, he was starting to develop a headache, which shortened both his attention span and his temper– not exactly ideal conditions for rapid improvement.

The end of the hour came, and Vargas came with it. “Let’s see it then, Ashengrotto.”

Azul was sure that, despite the weather, he’d improved over the course of the hour– he could levitate on the broom for almost five seconds consistently now– but that improvement wasn’t enough, not when it was compared with the loops and twists literally everyone else was doing. “Sir, I,” he started, uncomfortably aware of the way his classmates were watching him. Yeah, that was right, wasn’t it? They’d be watching gleefully, taking pleasure in his discomfort. Probably looking at each other and enjoying the weekly table-turning on the person who had the most power over all the other students at Night Raven College. “I’ve been feeling kind of hot.”

“Oh no,” Vargas said in a tone devoid of sympathy, “in this weather? Are you sure you’re all right, Ashengrotto? It’s not like it’s sunny out or anything, is it?”

It took everything Azul had to direct his glare and mouthed indecencies at the ground and not at Vargas’s grinning face. “Sorry, sir,” he said thinly, “I shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Vargas replied. “Good to know why you’ve been progressing so slowly– from what I’ve seen, at least. Still, maybe you’re hiding that ‘mastery’ you mentioned earlier somewhere? Show me what you’ve got.”

Azul pursed his lips and picked up his broom from where it’d fallen on his most recent attempt to fly. The stares of his classmates were practically tangible; he focused all his attention with an effort on floating the stick instead. Managed to sit on it, albeit awkwardly, and kick off the ground with his feet. His two feet. His two human feet, his two human legs, so much less flexible and weaker than his natural arms, and beyond them the ground– so far away– his heart rose in his throat because the broom was so unsteady and mall and what if he fell, fell and hit the ground at speed and— and he’d lost concentration, like he usually did, and was careening downwards anyway.

“You managed 2 meters’ altitude, for… 4 seconds,” Vargas boomed over where Azul was getting to his hands and knees, winded. “Strange kind of mastery, Ashengrotto… looks a lot more like falling to me. Like your grade in this class again, at least compared to everyone else’s.”

Azul straightened up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He couldn’t, he couldn’t fail PE, couldn’t even contemplate the thought of getting a C a second time; he had plans to ensure at least a B+, but they’d be useless if he continued to be so ridiculously– and publicly– bad at flying. “I’ll work harder, sir.”

“See that you do,” Vargas said. “This is embarrassing for me– and I’m not even the one ending up in the dirt every time you fall. You’re a sophomore too. Honestly.”

Azul ground his teeth; heat-rash seared along his arms and his eyes stung with how dry it was out here, but more than that, the coach was right. It was embarrassing.

He’d have to do better than this; drying out was no excuse, could never be an excuse if he planned to make it big on the land. Shameful that he’d use it to excuse his lack of ability, even to himself.

“Class dismissed,” Vargas called to the other students, all of whom were strangely nearby given that they had had the entire sky over the field to spread out in. As the others landed and dumped their brooms back in the broom bag, he turned back to Azul. “Ashengrotto, I hope to see some actual improvement next week.”

So do I, Azul thought with a twinge of frustration.

The final lesson of the day was History: usually one of Azul’s strong points, but the headache from being out in the sun had lingered despite the water he’d drunk, tugging at his nerves and preventing him from the kind of focus he needed for memorisation.

He stumbled over his answers. Not once, not twice; consistently and obviously and despite his efforts to speak more eloquently and remember the facts fast enough for him to say them out loud. The essay Professor Crewel made them all write– he wrote it, but was dimly aware of how worthless it was, worsening with every word he penned. Even his handwriting was worse than normal, letters spiky and terse compared to his usual flowing cursive.

The mediocrity lit up his face like a beacon; he could practically feel everyone’s stares as he, the Octavinelle housewarden, floundered over academics. Every rustle of clothes was a mocking whisper, and every sigh was an attempt to stifle a laugh. He heard it all over the pounding in his head.

They were all laughing at him. Like he was a joke.

Class ended, finally, and he couldn’t get out of there fast enough– a stark, obvious contrast to how he usually remained in the classroom until most of the others had gone to ask Crewel questions for clarification and extension. He, the action showed that he was embarrassed, didn’t it?

That would just make them laugh harder.

Damn it. He’d make them regret making him feel so uncomfortable.

He pulled his blazer tighter about him and hurried down the corridors to the Hall of Mirrors. If he could just get back to Octavinelle, back to his own territory, back to where it was dark and cool and blessedly damp and he was in control, he’d be okay. The headache would go away, and he’d be okay.

Azul leaned back in the leather-bound housewarden’s chair.

It was closing time for the Lounge; he’d left Jade and Floyd to encourage their guests off-premises while he’d cashed out and brought the day’s profits here to his office. It’d been a good night, if a little more of a strain on him than usual: they’d made quite the tidy sum of money. Azul smiled to himself as he thought of the faces he’d seen that evening. A fair and still-growing number of regulars (whose names he was endeavouring to memorise as fast as possible); this business venture promised to be very lucrative indeed.

And in terms of his other earner…

Azul got up and went to the safe; he raised his hand to charm the lock open but hesitated as the headache flared again against the side of his head.

It was unusual for a headache to last this long… he retrieved the contracts and sat down again, considering. It couldn’t be that he was still dehydrated– he’d drunk well over the required daily amount of water and eaten plenty of fruit for supper. Maybe it was the weather? Although here, so far underwater, that couldn’t really be an issue, and he’d gotten out of the sun a while ago.

He sighed and discarded it as something to worry about. It wasn’t hugely disruptive and would probably be short-lived. More important to check that all his affairs were in order; he began to sort through his contracts, making sure that none were missing.

He was about halfway through when there was a quiet knock on the door and the twins entered. Azul glanced up for a moment then returned to his papers.

“The bar’s empty, boss,” Floyd said (he’d taken to calling Azul ‘boss’ although they all knew that Azul had no kind of authority over him).

“We’re going to bed now,” Jade agreed. “Then we might get up and go for a swim.”

“Okay.” Azul didn’t respond to the unspoken invitation for him to join them, and Jade let it go. Didn’t say anything about whether he’d be heading to bed soon either; the twins wouldn’t care if he ended up pulling an all-nighter as he was wont to.

He shuffled his contracts suggestively, and Jade took the hint. “Well, good night then.”

“Night,” Floyd added.

He heard Jade and Floyd leaving and called belatedly, “Good night.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and Azul’s head throbbed again. Maybe going to bed soon would be a good idea, if only to get rid of the pain faster.

Azul wrapped gloved fingers around his iced espresso and sighed. Sleep hadn’t improved his headache in the slightest; it throbbed painfully against his temples, making it hard for him to concentrate. On top of (and mostly because of) that, he’d slept poorly, so his joints were sore and he could practically feel crankiness lurking beneath his skin.

Today was going to be a struggle.

As if on cue, the lounge’s door opened.

“Hey, Azul!” Azul thought, not for the first time, that it should’ve been illegal to sound so chipper at 6am. He turned irritably to see the twins approaching, eyes bright and hair wet.

“Floyd. Jade.” He kept himself curt, didn’t want to risk letting the exasperation spill out, even if there was no one else to see.

“Good morning, Azul,” Jade said, bowing politely before going behind the bar. “I trust you slept well.”

“Well enough.” Azul pursed his lips as the headache made itself known again and took refuge in another refreshing sip of his drink. Jade nodded with that smile of his and turned to the kettle, no doubt about to make himself his standard morning cup of tea.

“Sea was lovely today.” Floyd sprawled gracelessly across the sofa on the other side of the table. “Nice ‘n’ cold. Just the thing to wake you up and make you feel alive.”

“Good to know.” As ever, Floyd was skirting the edge of being directly frustrating, leaving just enough unsaid that Azul was unable to do more than grit his teeth.

“You should’ve joined us, like you used to,” Floyd said, not taking the hint that Azul wanted him to shut up. “It’d’ve been fun!”

“I didn’t want to,” Azul responded tersely. His words were becoming more and more precisely pronounced, every letter sounded exactly– a sure sign he needed to isolate himself before he actually snapped.

He couldn’t, though; Jade chose that exact moment (maybe deliberately) to settle himself with his teacup beside Azul in the booth, blocking his way out.

A couple of moments’ quiet as Jade sipped and Azul swallowed his temper and Floyd lounged. Then Jade set his cup down again, smiled. “You have two meetings tomorrow,” he reminded Azul. “More people looking for your study guide?”

“Yes,” Azul said. He meant to accompany it with a satisfied smile, but his head throbbed as he said the word, stronger than before; he pressed his fingers against his temples without thinking.

Both of the twins’ focus snapped to the movement; eyes narrowed predatorially. Azul froze, for a moment, but neither of them did anything more threatening than study him for a few seconds and return to what they’d been looking at before. His heart rate had just about returned to normal— honestly though, why was he getting so worked up? it’d been a long time since the twins had posed any actual threat to him— when Jade spoke.

“That’s the same headache as yesterday, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Azul was immediately on the defensive.

Jade sipped, studied him again like he was a particularly interesting fungal species. “Your headache, Azul. It hasn’t got any better, has it?”

“How do you know about that?” Azul frowned and adjusted his glasses.

Jade gave the barest hint of a shrug, teeth coming out in one of his trademark insincere smiles. “I notice things. It’s my main job in our little operation, why I’m so useful to you.”

“I suppose I can’t really argue with that.” Azul winced as his head hurt again but tried to stifle the reaction. “Still, it’s only a bit of pain. I’m sure it’ll go away soon enough.”

“Lasted a while though, hasn’t it?” Floyd tilted his head to stare at him. Of course Jade would’ve let his twin enjoy all the details. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you need more food.”

“Please, not this again.” Irritation flared once more; Azul’s grip tightened on the handle of his cup. “I’m very careful about taking in enough calories every day; I don’t need you nagging me about eating more.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Floyd said. “Might be that your blood sugar’s low or somethin’, what with all that sea cow food you’re always eatin’.”

“It’s not,” Azul replied, voice flat. Floyd seemed to finally take the hint and shut up, but,

“Could it be something else, then?” Jade raised his teacup to his lips, closed his eyes briefly as he enjoyed the taste. “I wonder… maybe what you need is a trip to the ocean?”

Azul frowned. “Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Well, our trip this morning made me personally feel quite rejuvenated,” Jade replied with a toothy smile that was just short of openly mocking. “It’d been a while since I’d stretched my tail and gone for a swim out in the open. Perhaps if you were to return to your true form and spend some time in the sea…” He let it tail off, probably enjoying the way the words ‘true form’ made Azul swallow in reflexive distaste.

“That’s not going to happen. I’m too…” he hesitated as the headache made itself known again, searched for the appropriate excuse, “busy.”

“You weren’t too busy last year,” Floyd pointed out. “Always managed to find the time to come out with us, even when you were super busy makin’ your study guide.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t Housewarden last year, and I didn’t have a business to run, did I?” The irritation swelled again; Azul knew he was close to losing it.

Floyd shrugged again. “Whatever. I reckon Jade’s right. Goin’ for a swim would do you a world of good, but I guess it’s your choice in the end. Just don’t take your headache out on us.” The last few words were almost drawled, a clear provocation. Both twins watched Azul– eagerly, it seemed— to see how he’d react.

Azul refused to give them the satisfaction of losing his temper fully. He took a restraining breath, drained his coffee, and rose. “I’ll be doing work in my office,” he said crisply, and squeezed out of the booth past Jade, all too aware of the way their gazes burned into his back as he walked away.

He didn’t have to see the two of them again until lunch, which was long enough for him to cool his temper a bit, but also long enough for his headache to get even worse. If that wasn’t bad enough, his mouth had gone dry and sticky and didn’t seem to be improving no matter how much liquid he drank.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Jade’s theory might be right. If he did, in fact, need to go back to the ocean; needed to go through the mirror, to shift back into,

into the form that had earned him so much scorn and laughter, the ugly octotwerp form that made him so different to everyone else,

and he nixed the idea that he could need to do that before it could become a part of reality.

It wasn’t that he needed to go back to the sea. It couldn’t be. Jade was wrong.

Still, the headache was pounding in his head stronger than ever when he sat down opposite the two of them at lunch.

“How are you doing?” Jade’s question was immediate, putting Azul instantly on his guard. You couldn’t trust Jade to be genuine with his concern.

“I’m fine,” he replied, although the way his dry throat made the words rasp probably didn’t make it particularly believable.

Thankfully, Jade was too polite to comment, and Azul took a swig from his glass to avoid meeting their gazes.

The water tasted wrong.

Wrong: chalky, tasteless, listless, dead; Azul couldn’t stop the grimace as he forced himself to swallow the mouthful he’d taken. Had he filled his glass up from the wrong tap or something?

“Excuse me, I’m just going to refill this,” he said, indicating his glass and standing up, “be right back.”

They watched him as he went, were probably watching him as he tipped the water down the sink at the front of the cafeteria and refilled the glass. Lifted it to his lips, again, and took a sip.

There was still something off about the water, something off-putting. Azul considered for a moment, conscious of the fact that the longer he stood up in front of everyone else, the more heads would turn to stare. But this is fresh from the tap… I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it. He went back to their table with the glass and sat again.

“Better?” Jade asked, confirming that he had, in fact, been watching everything Azul was doing.

“Yes,” Azul lied. Badly, but by another twist of merciful fate, neither twin commented on his transparent dishonesty, returning instead to their food.

Speaking of food… Azul picked up his cutlery and took a forkful of salad. Maybe he’d be able to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth with his main course.

The food was even worse than the water. Earthy, dirty, dry— all texture and no taste. Azul suppressed the desire to gag and spit it out.

There was something missing there too…

Without thinking about what he was doing, Azul reached for the saltshaker, unscrewed the top, and tipped a sizable heap of the salt into his glass. Stirred the mixture with his teaspoon and lifted it to his mouth.

It was delicious; that was what the water had been missing. Salt. He took a long, refreshing gulp: it soothed his throat and made his head feel slightly clearer immediately.

“Azul, you do realise you’re drinking salt water, right?”

Azul paused, looked up. Jade was regarding him with pure academic interest, but that might’ve been concern on Floyd’s face. If you squinted hard enough.

“It’s tasty,” he said simply. Maybe adding salt would fix his food too? He put the lid back on the shaker and ground a visible layer of salt crystals over his salad. Tried a forkful again, and yes: that made it almost— well, not enjoyable, because salad never was— but as tolerable as ever. He started eating it.

A moment’s quiet. Then,

“It’s unlike you to neglect healthiness for the sake of taste, Azul,” Jade pointed out. “That much sodium can’t be good for you.”

Azul froze. His brain finally engaged, catching up to what he’d just done, and—

Shit. Jade was right. What was he doing?

“You’re right,” he muttered, pushing the food away like it was poisoned. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Probably your body craving something saline.” Floyd drew out the word ‘saline’, meaning all too clear.

And, well. There was something undeniable about his logic, but Azul elected to ignore it.

There was a sour taste in his mouth as he got up and tipped the rest of his water down the sink again. Only a quarter of the original volume was left, which meant he’d just… he was unable to stop himself from estimating volumes and masses and trying to calculate exactly how much salt he’d just ingested.

He came back to the table with yet another fresh glass of water and a salt-less piece of fruit, but his appetite was gone. They finished the lunch hour in silence; as soon as was polite, Azul got up and left.

The twins watched him go.

Azul shuddered whenever he thought about the salt he’d consumed, but the clear-head effect it seemed to have had lasted from lunch to halfway through practical magic, the last lesson of the day. Then the headache returned with a sudden vengeance, making him falter midway through an incantation.

Somehow, he managed to stumble through the rest of the class, even managed to synthesise some alchemical substances he needed to fulfil his contracts while the pain buzzed in the back of his head. The discomfort was enough to fuel his irritation, though; he felt distinctly hot and itchy as he headed back to Octavinelle with his alchemical products.

Back on home turf again: Azul took a moment to breathe in the welcome salty smell before he snapped his fingers and conjured his dorm uniform.

The extra layers were, as ever, an uncomfortable addition: the coat weighed heavily on his shoulders, the cummerbund was constricting around his waist, and the bowtie was tight enough to restrict his breathing, but he ignored it like he always did. It was a sign of his status that he could wear this uniform at all– complaining had always been absolutely out of the question.

He walked swiftly down the entry hallway and into the wing of the dorm that housed the Lounge. It was Floyd’s shift right now, and he personally had no clients expected tonight, so there was no reason for him to visit the premises besides the desire to take pride in what he’d created. After a brief check that all was going well, he’d get his homework done and be finished in time to supervise the bar’s closing.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Mostro Lounge.” Azul walked through the door to find Jade on door duty, smiling and ushering some new patrons to an empty table. “It’s your first visit, isn’t it? I’ll have someone over to take your order shortly. If you’ll just excuse me— oh, Azul,” he said without having turned, “hello.”

It took less than a second for Azul to figure out what was going on. “Jade.”

Jade finished dealing with the customers and turned to look at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in the lab.”

“I was,” Azul said curtly. He scanned the room quickly— no sign of Floyd. That was confirmation enough; he indicated that they should retreat to the shadowy corner behind the bar, where they wouldn’t be overheard. “Where’s Floyd?”

“On campus somewhere,” Jade replied. “I don’t know where exactly, but I’m sure he’s all right.”

This again. Azul swallowed against his dry throat, trying to contain his temper. “He’s supposed to be here– it’s his shift.”

“He was in a mood,” Jade said. His eyes glowed golden and green in the half-darkness. “You know how he gets.”

“Doesn’t he appreciate that he’s done this too much? You can’t keep covering for him. It’s not fair on you— or on me, as his employer.”

Jade shrugged. “Even I can’t make Floyd do something he’s not feeling, Azul. Just pay me the wages for when I take over his shifts.”

“But what if you can’t?” Azul narrowed his eyes. “What if he decides to go off on his own, and neither of us are free to take over his duties?”

“Then one of the juniors will,” Jade suggested. He sounded almost reasonable, but his teeth gleamed in a smile; he was enjoying the way the irritation was flushing into Azul’s cheeks.

Azul frowned the thought away. “I’m going to talk to him when he gets back.” It was time to finally take Floyd’s behaviour in hand.

“He’s not doing it deliberately.”

“I’m going to talk to him,” Azul repeated, and thankfully Jade had the grace not to keep pushing. “I’ll be in my office for now, but let him know I want to see him when he does deign to show up for work, won’t you?”

Jade bowed, still smiling mockingly. “Of course, sir.”

Floyd couldn’t even be bothered to knock.

“Evenin’,” he said, breezing in through the door with an insolence that put Azul’s teeth on edge. “Jade said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes,” Azul said, clipping the words, “I did.”

“Well.” Floyd slouched on one of the sofas, smiled casually like he’d done nothing wrong. “I’m all ears.”

The door opened and Jade slipped in silently, catching Azul’s eye. Come to watch the show, probably; he shuffled his papers and tried to calm himself so he could get through this conversation without making a spectacle of himself. “You didn’t show up to work this afternoon. Care to explain why?”

“I wasn’t feelin’ it.” Floyd shrugged. “Sorry.”

The apology was tossed out carelessly, the way Floyd always did everything. Its insincerity was instantly obvious; Azul gritted his teeth. “Whether or not you feel like working is hardly relevant, Floyd. When we set up the Lounge we agreed that we’d all share the shifts and split the profits accordingly, but you’re not holding to that. If this had been the first time you’d done this, I might have been willing to let it go, but after so much of this behaviour… I can’t help but wonder if you care about this enterprise at all.”

“Well, maybe I don’t.” Floyd slumped further over the back of the sofa– a position that looked quite uncomfortable, but that was the last thing Azul was worried about.

He rose, stepped out from behind his desk to look down at Floyd. “What do you mean, you don’t?” He tried to keep his voice down, which meant that it came out as more of an annoyed hiss than an angry demand.

“Maybe I don’t care, Azul,” Floyd repeated. “Ain’t like I need money or anything. All that’s really in this for me is gettin’ to squeeze people, but that’s somethin’ I could do whether your damn restaurant has a supervisor at any one time or not. Maybe I don’t care about showing up for work. So what?”

“You… I…” Azul struggled for words, trying to process what Floyd had just said. The headache came flooding back, the headache and the stress and the overwhelm, and he swayed where he stood.

Both twins’ eyes snapped to the movement in an instant.

“You all right?” Floyd asked, sitting up and looking at him. “You look kinda…” He trailed off, leaving any number of possible descriptors in the air.

“I’m fine.”

“Ya sure? You’re soundin’ even more snappy than you were a second ago.” Floyd’s eyes glowed in the shadow cast by his hat’s brim.

“I said I’m fine,” Azul ground out, trying to exert his influence over his emotions and bring himself back under control. It wasn’t working; he could feel his exasperation swell with every word Floyd spoke, growing with the pain of the headache and dizziness to an overwhelming swell.

“Are you sure you're okay though, Azul?” Jade tilted his head, smiling the way he always did. The tone of his voice was soft, what Azul usually equated to concern, but now he couldn't help the thought that it could be something else spilling into his head. What if…

What if, with his emotions so uncontrolled like this, Azul was vulnerable to Shock the Heart? It was an absurd thought, and yet he couldn’t help but follow it. His mental defences were completely down. What if Jade were to activate his signature magic and force him to divulge all his darkest secrets? To eviscerate himself before the two of them so they'd never treat him with the slightest respect again, to show them all the darkness and messiness and you're not worthy of any of this, any of it at all, you're still that silly little octotwerp who should just hide in a corner and sometime they're gonna figure that out and then—

Azul was stumbling back and away, away from those glowing hypnotic eyes and razor-edged teeth and stances inclined threateningly towards him, and he was, it was a blur as the fear spiked; he was opening the door, brisk walk down the corridor turning into an unsustainable but desperate sprint; dimly, he was aware of those hissing voices calling after him, calling for him to come back but for once he trusted his instincts, telling him that that was a stupid idea.

His head-start was enough, or maybe they weren’t actually coming after him didn’t care enough about him to give chase now they knew, it was enough for him to be able to get back to his room, the housewarden’s room. He wasn't thinking, wasn't considering what he did as he raced in and locked the door behind him, panting. Still had the presence of mind to leave the key in the lock, so Jade couldn't pick it. The adrenaline was still racing through his system and he found himself trembling.

He,

couldn’t do this any more.

His knees buckled and he slid quietly down his door so that he was sitting against it, legs drawn up to his chest as if for protection.

For a few minutes he almost expected that one of the twins (or both) would come to check on him, knock on the door and ask if he was all right.

They didn’t.

And really, why was that any kind of a surprise? He should’ve been relieved by it– more time before the inevitable mocking began, after all– shouldn’t be disappointed, shouldn’t feel so hollow inside.

But he did.

He sat awake and slumped against his door for some time, doing nothing. It was only when dawn’s light started to creep into the water outside his window that he managed to make himself get up and get changed. He crawled into bed knowing that it was physically impossible for him to get enough sleep, but for once he didn’t care.

He woke up and the ceiling was close enough that he couldn’t sit up.

It took a moment for his mind to start working again, another few seconds for him to realise where he was, and that it wasn’t the ceiling but the underside of his bed.

He was under his bed. Hiding under his bed, like a silly little octopus hiding in a pot, unable to deal with real life. Like that’d solve anything at all.

Another moment passed before he heard the knocking on his door.

“Azul?”

Jade’s voice; Azul froze as he remembered what had happened the previous night.

The logical, the mature thing to do here would be to come out from under the bed and answer the door, but when Azul tried to make himself scoot along the floor to get out, he couldn’t. Something stayed his hands and stilled his legs, leaving him curled up helplessly in the dark.

“Azul, I know you’re in there. I tried picking your lock but you’ve left the key in.” Jade jiggled the door handle to prove his point. “Are you okay?”

Azul didn’t reply; how could he? He’d, he shuddered as he recalled how he’d panicked and run away, cringed as he imagined how that must’ve looked to the twins. That was the kind of thing people would ruthlessly make fun of you for, and the twins were no exception. Any respect they’d ever had for him was now almost certainly non-existent, so the instant he stepped out the door, it’d start. Merciless teasing at best, and malicious provocations at worst (and most likely). They’d enjoy his reactions, the way he’d lose his cool; laugh at him like they always did, take pleasure in the way he got riled up or came close to tears. Going outside, even replying to Jade’s questions, wasn’t something he could face right now.

After enough silence that it was obvious that Azul wasn’t going to reply, Jade continued. “Class starts in twenty minutes. Me and Floyd are going– most of the other students have already left for campus.”

More silence. Azul curled up tighter, hoping Jade would just go away.

“You’re going to be late, but that’s your decision, I suppose.” Jade gave the door one final rattle and then the clicking of his heels against the floor could be heard, getting quieter as he walked away.

He might not want to face him, but Azul knew Jade was right: he was going to be late unless he got up and out of the room quickly. A few minutes passed before he was able to force himself to crawl out from the security of being under the bed, sitting up beside his safe in the dark. The movement made his headache flare; he hesitated, slumping against his bed as he mustered the determination to go on with the day.

He finally made himself get up and stumbled to his ensuite, leaning heavily on the walls and sink to support himself. The burning thirst in his throat made him desperate for a drink, but the water he filled his cup with tasted so rancid and stale that he spat it out instantly.

What was the point of even trying to go to class when nothing seemed to make any of it better and he’d just end up making as much of a fool of himself as he had the day before yesterday? He walked back into the main bedroom on shaky legs and collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his pillows in an attempt to stop the tears of helplessness.

Azul woke up and the light bleeding into his room through the water outside his window was the dim indigo of late evening. He’d missed class, then.

The self-loathing was instant and immense. He hated himself for not even managing to get out of the room, hated that he’d done nothing but lie around like a lazy sunfish. It was the kind of thing Floyd would do, the kind of thing he’d criticised Floyd for doing, yet here he was doing it himself. His studies… his duties… his reputation… he’d neglected them all, and on account of some stupid headache and his own shame. You haven’t changed in the least, he told himself. Still that silly little octotwerp who’s too damn weak to get anything done.

They’ll never have any respect for you after this, and who can blame them?

As if on cue, there was a knock on his door.

“Azul?”

Jade again. He’d probably come to enjoy the moody silence again, but Azul refused to give him the pleasure. He forced himself to sit up, ignoring the way it made his head spin and throb. “What do you want?”

“The Lounge just closed for the night. We came to check on you.”

So Floyd was outside too. Wonderful. He’d most likely come to gloat about how Azul was no better than him.

“Go away,” Azul called.

“Not until we know you’re all right,” came Floyd’s voice, sounding far more serious than was natural for him.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.” The way the words rasped against his dry throat as he spoke them was the opposite of convincing.

“If you were actually fine, you would have shown up for work this evening,” Jade pointed out with infuriating calm. “You missed those customers who requested to meet with you today, and it was your shift at the front of house too. Skipping school and work isn’t the kind of thing you’d do if you were okay.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Azul scowled at the door. “Admit that I’m feeling off so you can take advantage of it? Apologise for my behaviour yesterday so you can laugh at me? Good one.”

“We’re worried about you, Azul,” Floyd replied.

Azul scoffed (although his dry mouth meant that it ended up turning into a coughing fit). “Like you’ve ever been worried about me,” he croaked once he could speak again. “Just go away, why don’t you?”

That was met with silence— he almost thought they’d done as he’d asked, but then he heard the muffled murmurs of them conferring in the hallway.

“Let us in, Azul,” Jade’s voice came once more.

“No. I’ve already told you— I’m fine, so leave me alone!”

“We just want to help you,” Floyd told him.

“I don’t need your help!” Azul’s voice was full of petulance, like a child’s; he loathed it.

“Yes, you do.” Jade’s sigh was audible even through the door. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to do this, but…”

Azul had only a moment to wonder what that meant before the door’s keyhole began to glow. The mechanism clicked a few times, key rotating on its own, and then the handle twisted. The door opened on its own.

The twins entered, and Azul didn’t have the energy to be irritated any more. He buried himself under his duvet to try and stop them looking at him– an instinctive action, and a silly one. They came closer and all he could do was watch over the edge of his coverlet.

“Go away,” he pleaded, making himself as small as he could under the sheets. “Please.”

“Not happening,” Floyd said.

“We’re going to help you even if it means dragging you kicking and screaming to the ocean,” Jade said, voice unreadable.

Azul shrunk even smaller. To the ocean… the twins’ meaning was clear, and all he could think about was being in the ocean, being in that form, being slow and unwieldy and getting laughed at again and again and again and he, he couldn’t, “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Do what?” Floyd shrugged. “Being in the sea is great!” “You don’t understand.”

“It’s not a big deal from where we’re standing, Azul,” Jade said smoothly. “If this is about what the kids said when we were younger—”

“It’s not,” Azul insisted, though it totally was.

“Well, anyway,” Floyd said, “we’re all goin’ for a nighttime swim.”

“I don’t want to. I’m not feeling well enough.”

“This’ll make you feel better.” Jade smiled wider, enjoying himself.

“You’re comin’ with us, Azul,” Floyd added. “Either you walk there yourself or we’ll carry you.”

Fuck. Azul knew the twins well enough to know that they would make good on that threat. “...I’ll walk,” he said reluctantly.

Well, he tried to walk, but his legs were weak and his head pounded with every step and the sense of balance he’d cultivated so well was shot to nothing, so in the end he ended up leaning on both of the twins’ shoulders and hobbling through the dorm to the mirror. (He refused to give in and let Floyd carry him bodily– that would be taking the indignity of this too far.)

A couple of mirror leaps later and they were wading into the sea on that familiar beach.

The smell of the ocean filled the air: salt, sweet salt and seawater and everything that he’d been craving the day before: the need for it came rushing back and despite himself Azul started to wade faster, pulling the twins (who were still supporting him) along with him.

He stopped when the water was at chin height, and he was about to plunge his face into the sea when he hesitated. Was he really going to take that form again?

The spell couldn’t be halted, though. In the presence of this much water, reverting to his true form was inevitable without a counter-enchantment, and while the sea air was already doing wonders to clear his headache he didn’t have the energy or concentration to stop the shift. The twins were already in eel form, releasing his hands and sinking deeper so that their gills were submerged.

Azul’s sense of self-consciousness surged again. “Don’t look,” he pleaded as he felt the transformation take hold. “Please don’t look at me.”

“You’re being silly,” Floyd huffed, but he and Jade both looked away.

Azul ducked under the water before he could look at himself, and the sea welcomed him. The sweet taste of salt filled his mouth, gills flaring to life as he inhaled brine, and his eyesight sharpened. The headache lingered for a moment then vanished. The relief was so great that he couldn’t prevent a laugh bubbling out of him.

“Told you you’d feel better,” Floyd said in his ear. He whipped around but Floyd was already laughing too and darting past him in a burst of bubbles.

Jade tapped his arm, met his eyes with a smile. “It’s good to stretch your tails a bit, isn’t it?”

“They’re arms,” Azul corrected automatically; it was an old tease. “It is, though,” he admitted. “Sorry for all the fuss.”

Jade shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re all right. You had me worried when you didn’t show up for class this morning.”

“Sorry about that.” Azul took in another gulp of the water— the salt was invigorating and sweet and everything he’d been craving and it smoothed his thirst away.

“Stop apologising and enjoy the sea!” Floyd grinned maniacally and started dragging both of them in the direction of the deep ocean. “It’s been so long since we all spent a night like this!”

“It’s only been about a month,” Azul sighed, but he let Floyd lead him and Jade down to the cooler regions further out.

They spent a while out there, swimming together, talking, just enjoying the freedom of being in their natural habitat. Eventually, though, the colour of the water started to lighten as it was hit by the first rays of dawn: time to head back.

“I can’t imagine what everyone’s going to say about me skipping class,” Azul sighed as they swam back to the mainland. “I’m never going to live it down, and I bet they’ll tease me about it for the rest of the year.”

“They won’t,” Jade said. “We told them that you were ill– in fact, far from being mocked, I expect you’ll receive a fair amount of sympathy today for your absence.”

“Oh.” That was… unexpectedly generous of them. “Thank you.”

“You’re not going to be too busy to do this again, are you?” Floyd asked.

Azul frowned. “I can’t make any promises…”

Both twins gave him withering looks.

“...but yes, as it seems that staying away from the sea for a long length of time is a bad idea healthwise, I’ll try and fit this into my schedule more frequently.”

“Great!” Floyd grinned.

“It’ll be fun having you along like we did last year,” Jade nodded.

Azul couldn’t stifle the little smile that crept onto his face as he heard them sound so enthusiastic about spending time with him. Couldn’t help but feel a little warmer inside, especially since they didn’t seem to want to tease him about how silly he’d been.

Well, didn’t want to tease him yet. He had no doubt that was coming.

But that was all it would be. Teasing. Not mocking, not laughing at him; friendly teasing with no malice behind it.

He glanced at his friends as they prepared to break the surface together. “Let’s get back to the dorm and make some money, shall we?”