Shu Kamiya

On the southern deck of the Queen Violet, the open-air cinema under the stars had just finished its last film. Before the end credits finished rolling, the man in a dark haori rose from his seat in the last row and walked slowly onto the adjacent illuminated walkway. He removed his glasses, gazing out at the pitch-black sea as he answered a phone call. A young woman’s voice could faintly be heard on the other end, her cheerful tone making him furrow his brow slightly. But he didn’t lose his temper; he rarely displayed such emotions toward his adopted daughter Noelle, even though she had chosen to be absent during the fifteenth anniversary of the Queen Violet’s voyage—merely out of momentary willfulness.

“My apologies. I had a personal matter to attend to.”

Finally, Shu put away his phone and addressed the person waiting behind him.

“Those I'd prefer to keep safely aboard always crave the mainland, while certain individuals have a habit of... appearing uninvited.”

A deliberate pause, then he turned around, the corner of his mouth curving slightly upward as he brought his hands together elegantly before his chest. He had already ordered his men to clear the walkway; he always did this, reserving time for those with potential.

The wind shifted slightly, carrying the scent of ebony and tobacco cologne mixed with the saltiness of the sea breeze.

“Those words from our last meeting—to you, they weren’t a warning but more like an invitation, weren’t they?”

His voice was deep, a knife hidden behind his smile.

“Or perhaps you want to know what other choices I might make... besides letting you join the depths permanently?“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​