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Your heart swells as you watch the others leave for the exhibits, chattering amongst themselves. They truly look ragtag—Jade gliding smoothly through the water, Floyd’s fins snapping as he jumps between display cases animatedly; Jack’s fluffy tail twitching at the foreign sensation of being engulfed in saltwater; Ace and Deuce caught up in their usual banter next to the cauldron; Grim jumping up high to see the display cases on his slow, water-cushioned descent back downwards. Having expected to live isolated, you counted yourself lucky enough that your relationship with Grim shifted from a mutual tolerance to a sort of mutual doting. To have grown close to Ace and Deuce, even, came as a surprise. But to imagine you’d have beastmen, and now merfolk within your circle of people…
It gets harder by the day to remember what life before Twisted Wonderland was like.
One thing you can’t forget, however, is what you saw etched deep in Azul’s eyes the fleeting moment you’d met them, stopping you in your tracks.
Hence the rest of the crew heading off into the museum while the two of you lingered by the photo wall.
“Are you not going with them?”
You shift your gaze back to Azul, once again recognizing the emotions hovering about him with sickening clarity. That desire to erase the past. To spend every day held in stasis by it. For something that dictated so much of your life prior to Twisted Wonderland, you feel it resonate all the more. To have been handed an escape from it all without even knowing… your gut twists.
“I was worried,” your hands fumble together, attempting to smear your own thoughts away from Azul’s piercing gaze. “About you.”
Azul blinks, collecting himself with an almost imperceptible smoothness. How much did he rehearse that? Did it take years? “You have such little faith in me, I see.” He turns back to the wall. “I assure you, I will put it back properly.”
You risk a hop closer to him, watching your feet gently touching down on the limestone floor. The tiles seem to have been dyed a pale blue, shimmering in a way you’ve never seen before. To your surprise, Azul speaks up once more.
“I thought that if only all of my old pictures were gone…”
You find yourself leaning ever so slightly closer to him.
“I thought that it would help erase my past of being such a helpless and dumb little octopus.”
Azul forces out a laugh that falls flat, a dull wheeze. You remember his cackles during his overblot, so uninhibited and full… there was a freedom there, a deep yearning that you recognized. But even without being able to use magic yourself, even if you want some form of that same release as Azul, you know that wasn’t the right way to attain it.
Azul sets the photo back on the wall, a hand lingering by its side. By that snapshot of him in the corner.
“The Sea Witch became recognized by the people after overturning and hiding her villainous past. For all that I spewed about wanting to be like her… In the end, I couldn’t accept who I was. I just kept on rejecting myself.”
Azul turns back to you, your breath catching in your throat. The smile on his face reads far more like a grimace, topped with a glistening to his eyes… you can’t tell if it’s just the reflection of the water-refracted lights.
But something about them. Something about how he just… holds himself, nails himself right there in the water. Your chest tugs at you, aching to set some sentiment free. Before you can begin to fear what this unnamed emotion could be, the words tumble out.
“I think you’re already magnificent just the way you are. Even without stealing other people’s magic.”
Azul can’t smooth over his reaction this time, his glasses falling a touch askew as his eyes widen. “Eh…?”
“You’re the most hard-working person I’ve ever met, at least.”
“Hard-working?” Azul rights his glasses, replacing his surprise with a huff of amusement. Your heart drops a bit more than you’d like to admit watching him steadily paint his usual facade over himself. “Might I ask you to refrain from buttering me up so overtly? I am simply a person who wanted to get revenge on those who wronged me. That is all.”
He turns away from you with a crispness that only a merperson in their natural habitat could have, facing the inner reaches of the museum.
Grim, in a floating frenzy, takes note of you still lingering by the entrance. “Look!!! There’s a dinosaur bone over here!”
Jade suddenly slithers to Grim’s side, skillfully redirecting his boundless excitement. “See, Grim, that is not a dinosaur, but rather a sea dragon.”
“A DRAGON??!!”
“Yes, it is a sea-monster. There is a legend that says that the entrance to the Sea Witch’s lair was made from the sea dragon’s bones…” Jade casts you an assessing glance, eyes flitting to Azul for an instant. Finding some sort of unvoiced satisfaction, he turns away and guides Grim deeper into the museum with ease.
You gulp. Save for Jack, who is rather enamored by the King Triton statue in the center of the main museum wing, most of the others have gone off on their own explorations. Their fading voices thicken the tension hanging between you and Azul.
“That’s… not all.”
Azul turns back to face you a bit too quickly. “Sorry?”
“I— listen, what I meant to say was I truly do think—“
“Please, save it. Don’t finish that thought.” The smile fitted on Azul’s face veers off into a shadow of a scowl this time. “I get that you’re trying to console me. Used to it by now, aren’t you? What with me being the third overblot case you’ve somehow come to deal with personally.” He steps closer. “Maybe you’re doing it to make yourself feel better. I won’t judge.” His smile turns rueful. “But just don’t bother with me. Save yourself the effort.”
Azul punctuates that note of finality by swishing back around, starting blindly for the museum without any particular exhibit in sight. You reach out for him before you can think to do any better.
“Azul! Listen to me!” You just barely graze his wrist, but it’s enough to stop him in his tracks. You maneuver yourself to stand in front of him, searching his face as the bubbles between your bodies dissipate.
He looks a mess.
There’s a deep pink underlying his eyes and the tip of his nose, his bottom lip trembling as he desperately attempts to hold his face still, devoid. The sudden urge to cradle that face in your hands, to put your forehead to his and repeat it’s all alright until it finally gets through that thick skull of his makes your insides churn. You shudder through a breath, feeling the water filter out of your temporary gills, before starting over.
“I know you have no reason to believe me. So don’t, if you don’t want to. But just let me say my piece.”
Azul’s eyes trace Jack finally leaving King Triton’s side, the main hall fully empty now. He avoids your gaze, but seems to be staying put for now.
“I may not completely agree with the methods you had before. But morality aside, they’re a work of genius. Honestly.” Azul shifts, now studying you. “I mean, an idiot can’t get revenge.” This tugs at Azul’s mouth a bit, the tension melting just enough that you decide to push forward.
“I just want you to know I’ve been there. I know how you feel. I know wanting to escape, to erase the past. The difference between you and me is…” your hand twitches, badly aching to take ahold of his. “You worked for that. Harder than anyone. Harder than the ones who you wanted revenge on in the first place could ever work. You just gave and gave, endlessly, relentlessly. And those who lost from your contracts… they did agree to those terms by their own consent.” Azul raises a brow, amused by your implication. “Though I still don’t think those contracts were right.”
“Go on.”
“All that is to say is… well, whereas I…” you falter, watching the yellow of ocean lamps dance across Azul’s face. “I was just handed that escape. I just woke up one day and found myself here. I just… I admire you, is all. Despite everything.”
You grasp at the hem of your blazer, suddenly wanting very badly to excuse yourself from the interaction you’d instigated. You look anywhere but Azul’s face, not wanting to leave too suddenly and seem insincere, but wholly unequipped to handle whatever reaction he could have now that your mind caught up to your words. You didn’t even realize those feelings yourself. These past three days imagining over and over again how it’d feel to beat Azul at his own game. To see his contract empire dissipate into nothing but sand. To rub victory in his face. To be able to normally hang out with Ace and Deuce and Grim again. To give Hornton the good news, even. It all hardly makes sense.
Just as your racing thoughts threaten to suffocate you, Azul speaks.
“You truly mean that?”
You bring yourself to meet his eyes once more.
For once, he isn’t orchestrating a mask. He just seems tired.
You nod once, twice, not quite believing yourself either.
Azul laughs, bundles of bubbles escaping his lips. For a very brief instant, you see a small child gleefully blowing them instead.
“Thank you.” You stand there dumbly, not knowing what else to say. “You’re not as poor and unfortunate of a soul you seem to think yourself to be as well, you know.”
You continue staring at Azul, mind churning to differentiate the hammering of your heart and the implications of his words. “Huh…?”
Azul scoffs, as though even letting you hear his voice is some kind of massive favor. “As in, you managed to defeat me. And those other overblots too. You seem to think you were brought to this world like you were handed some sort of get out of jail free card, and carry guilt about that.”
The sudden scrutiny of Azul’s psychoanalysis makes your hair stand on end. Of course he would know the weaknesses of those he signed contracts with better than anyone.
Azul continues. “But the number of people you’ve put in your debt, your beck and call while you’re at it… that’s quite admirable too, isn’t it?” Azul readjusts his glasses, his hand barely containing his trademark smirk. Starkly reminded of his transactional nature, you can only laugh uncomfortably before the meaning of his words dawn on you.
“You… admire me too?”
Azul all but jumps at this, the glasses he just readjusted askew once more. “What?! Where did you get that from?” You step closer, narrowing your eyes at him. Azul’s back comes to a gentle bump against the photo wall. “By the sea witch, you always just have to be so overt and tactless…”
“Hm? What was that?”
“I said you’re overt and tactless!”
Seeing Azul flush, the way he backs away, his attempts to hide his heaving chest— it’s too much.
You can’t stop yourself from wanting more.
Suddenly emboldened, you inch even closer, caging Azul against the wall, bringing an arm up gently against the side of his old photo.
“But that overt and tactless person signed a contract with you. And won.”
Azul turns his face to the side, flushing further. “Oh, please…”
Seeing him like this, his facade slipping to make way for that octokid once more, tugs oh so sharply on your heartstrings.
“Hey, Azul.”
He turns back, his expression all over the place, annoyance and embarrassment and arrogance and relief all knitting together as his eyes dart back and forth between yours.
Your heart hammers in your chest, bloodstream scorching. Your head spins on the adrenaline and relief of finally, finally sorting through the overblot and contract mess— finally free. You feel like you can do anything at all in the world. And you see the merperson right in front of you by your side through it all.
You only register the next words you speak by the bubbles leaving your mouth.
“Can I kiss you?”
The confusion knitted on Azul’s face comes to a screeching halt, his gaze darting rapidly from your lips to your eyes, to nowhere at all, back to your lips, back to your eyes, his face a deep red.
Azul’s jerks his head downwards a minuscule amount, a single nod. You continue to stand stock still, suspended by your arms by his sides on the wall, just drowning in his eyes. One hand slowly trails down to cup a burning cheek, like you so desperately wanted to— in what you realize was a feeling building, building; expanding on itself for much longer than the time you’ve spent in the museum together.
Azul shivers at the touch, the first actual contact you’ve been in with one another, the water flowing between your fingertips, the soft current cast, the wavering of his hair. Something in his eyes shifts, changes, falls apart. “That was a yes.”
You lean in.
His lips feel small against yours, and at first you’re afraid you’re only kissing water. Soon after, his lips move in response, their softness somehow deeply relieving. Azul clutches onto your shoulders, not quite pulling you closer but making himself known. You gently pull away after a moment, a mutual exhale engulfing your faces in a wall of bubbles.
When your vision clears, you realize he’s crying.
“Azul?!”
You pull away immediately, the ocean whisking his teardrops away almost instantaneously, almost imperceptibly; consuming them, recirculating them.
Setting your arms around his back, you draw Azul into a tight embrace. Simply holding him. Holding everything still. A gentle current from the museum entrance rocks your joined bodies ever so slightly.
Azul pulls away with a final sniffle after a few minutes.
“I really am turning back into that helpless crybaby octopus.”
You can’t withhold yourself from giving his lips another peck, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
Azul considers you for a moment before letting out a massive huff, disentangling your limbs, and finally facing you with a fresh face once more. “Shall we?”
Interlinking your arms, you give him a soft smile. “Yes. I’d love a tour of the museum.”
“Very well. Fair warning, though—I charge a steep price for my tour guide services.”
You roll your eyes and finally step into the main hall together, the photograph a thing of the past.