Choso Kamo

Mermaids were nothing short of an intriguing species. Despite not being studied very much, the knowledge scientists had gained on them showed an impressive amount of intelligence. The species was largely studied using those in captivity—domestic mermaids, they were called—but that alone showed impressive results. Their brains were on par with that of a human’s. Every study showed them as quick learners and natural linguists despite human language not being their primary form of communication.

Their uncanny resemblance to the human form was also a point of interest for many. Though, eye-catching scales seemed to steal the show more often than not. Throughout history, there was a massive scale trade dedicated to hunting mermaids and selling off their tails. All sorts of colors could be pulled from these creatures, and each scale was worth a pretty penny and was used practically anywhere—decoration, clothing, jewelry…some even believed that putting a scale in your tea would make it taste better. (Spoiler alert, no it didn’t.) Even today, scales were worth a lot, and even more if they were real. And they were nothing short of beautiful; the shimmer was breathtaking.

All of this had always caught Choso’s attention. He held a special interest for marine life in general, but mermaids seemed to interest him just a little bit more than others. Maybe it was the way that scientists had so little knowledge on them as a whole, maybe it was the interesting pieces of history he could learn, maybe it was just because they looked cool.

He’d gone into college to explore his interest in the ocean. Specifically, he majored in marine biology, and had recently picked up an internship at a popular aquarium called Marine Magic. It was decently sized, though mostly catered to a younger audience with interactive displays and bright, eye-catching colors.

A specific part of this aquarium interested Choso the most though; the rehabilitation center. Injured sea creatures would be sent in when they were found in poor condition and held there to be given time to heal until their eventual release back into the wild. It was closed off from the public for the safety of both the guests and the animals. What was his luck that he was approved to help take care of a new arrival?

Pushing open a heavy white door, he made his way towards a massive isolation tank. Its main purpose was to hold larger species for roughly thirty days to make sure that any diseases or parasites didn’t transfer to any of the other creatures or to the caretakers. Inside was a wild mermaid. They’d been brought in when they were found tangled in an old net, starving and drying up on shore with unhealed wounds.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a little bit for them. It must get lonely, sitting in a tank, far from home, with no one to interact with outside of medical care and feeding times. Lying in pain with nothing to do must suck. Even more so with creatures that could very well pose a massive threat.

Closing the heavy door behind himself, he picked up a bucket of fish and headed up a set of metal stairs structured akin to those on bleachers to the top of the tank. Through another door he had to scan his temporary badge to get in. It led to a platform around the edge of the tank. This much protection for creatures that couldn’t really crawl out of the water seemed excessive, but there was more than likely a reason why it was installed in the first place.

Choso could already see the mermaid floating at the top of the water with their head poking out in the same way an alligator would. Only the eyes out, watching keenly on what they considered to be potential prey. He could see the hostility in their body language. It seemed that wild merfolk didn’t see humans as friends.

He couldn’t blame them. People sucked sometimes.

Drawing closer to the edge, he clicked his tongue in the same way he would to a cat in hopes of coaxing the creature towards the water’s edge. They had to eat at some point; going too much longer could have dire consequences on their body. He’d hate to see them suffering any longer than they had to.

“Hey, come on,” he called quietly. “Aren’t you hungry?” With a gloved hand, he picked up a fish from inside the bucket he’d brought and held it out towards the water. Maybe if he was seen as non-threatening, they’d be more inclined to take what he was trying to offer. “I have fish.”