I guess it had always been hard for me to breathe whenever I spent too much time around someone. For all the years I’d lived in my Versailles (that’s what my only friend pompously called this structure—and the name stuck), I’d never had guests (aside from that same friend). And right now, I was feeling… conflicted, to say the least.
On one hand, having a new person in the house made me incredibly tense, and I had no clue how to act. Everything in my routine felt flipped upside down. But on the other hand—deep down inside—I caught little sparks of curiosity about whether I could actually coexist, even for a couple days, with my loud sister.
I really needed to sort myself out.
After closing the door to her room, I leaned my whole body against it and started breathing deeply, trying to get some air. Damn, it’s hard talking to people from the big world out there! Every social interaction felt like poison—at least according to my heart, which was trying to escape my chest. I started calming it, and the rest of the anxious gang—tremors and excessive sweating included—with my breathing exercises.
Yeah, I definitely had to endure and outlast this first contact with the bizarre alien that was—Louise!
The pounding in my chest finally eased up a bit, and I wiped the sweat off my face with a handkerchief. Time to deal with the problem the usual way—by running from it. Or, more accurately—swimming away...
I went into the storage room and pulled out my gear: wetsuit with thermal lining, an oxygen tank, fins, mask, and of course—my loyal companion and partner-in-crime, my camera, with its 4-inch
LCD screen, Super35 CMOS sensor, and Dual Pixel autofocus. I could ramble on about its features for hours (obviously, just in my head), and I gave it a gentle stroke through the case.
Time to gear up.
I put everything on as usual, calm and slow, except for the fins. I already felt triple-armored: the suit always helped block out the world and all its mess. With the camera strap around my neck, the escape plan was ready to go.
I could still hear her moving around in her room, getting ready for bed, so I figured I’d leave her be and headed outside (which, for me, meant the ocean shore). The pounding rain had calmed down to a light, annoying drizzle—not exactly ideal, but at least I could see again, and I definitely still felt like diving into the darkening water.
I always loved this kind of weather, even with all its minor domestic drawbacks. What mattered more were the emotions it brought up and that drive to soak in the local beauty, which I somehow never got tired of…
Equipment check went smoothly. Everything was in place. All that was left was to shuffle down the wet sand toward the incoming waves and slip on the fins. That was it—time to dive deep.
My heart hadn’t fluttered with awe or fear before a dive in ages. That stuff usually came later, once I was down there. The first stage of it all had turned into plain routine—but that brief moment when my head still hadn’t dipped below, that borderline between two worlds, still felt magical.
I twisted the valve open, activated the air flow, and dove down like a sleek little minnow, adjusting my position as I went. My experience always had my back—being a diver had fed me for years. Not to mention the inheritance from my parents, this made this whole life possible. Still, in recent years, my skills had really leveled up, and my photos had started showing up on image stock platforms, niche media, and even some magazines. More and more money was trickling into my wallet.
I wasn’t rolling in billions of yen. Sometimes I barely scraped by. But thanks to the simplicity of my hermit life, I managed to survive—both out in the world and down in the deep.
Tonight, I wasn’t here to take photos. I just needed to calm the hell down and lose myself in the one place that relaxed me better than any surface-world distraction ever could. Down here, I had quiet. Solitude. Even though the water was murky from all the clouds and rain, it didn’t stop me. I switched on the headlamp mounted on my mask and—
Jolted back in shock.
Right through the beam of my light, something massive slid by—long body, fins, a tail! And I swear I saw huge arms too, vaguely human-like. It was fast for something that size and quickly vanished out of sight—both from the lamp and from my eyes. I froze in place, paddling just enough to stay put, trying to fend off a new wave of breathlessness—way more dangerous at this depth.
Gotta surface! I need air! I hadn’t felt this kind of paralyzing fear since my early diving days, when the dark waters seemed so foreign, so resistant to human presence. And now—I was starting to think maybe I hadn’t been wrong back then.
The ocean was a shelter not only for me...
Paralyzing fear locked me in place, keeping every limb frozen. I just couldn’t find the strength to shoot upward. The only thing still working was my head—and with it, the beam of my flashlight darting back and forth, slicing through the gloom, finding nothing but empty murk. That’s when I
started blaming it all on my overactive imagination. Taking big gulps of air, I forced myself to calm down just a bit.
That worked… right up until the moment the curtain of darkness parted again under the flashlight, and a massive hand came into view—its twisted fingers ending in claws. The skin looked pale, powdery—like it was made of alabaster dust. I poured every bit of strength into my trembling arms, fumbling to grab my camera, unhooking the lens cap.
This is it—I’m gonna take the shot! Right now… I can do it! I have to know it’s not just something my brain made up. I need proof. But my hands weren’t cooperating—and that clawed hand was moving, curling its pointer finger toward me in a clear, unmistakable -come closer- gesture. Then it did it again. And again...
I turned the beam slightly, and it lit up a bumpy, hairless head with a sloped forehead and a long protrusion—almost like an antenna. The creature clearly didn’t appreciate the light and jerked its huge, bulky body with surprising speed, darting off downward.
And you’d think that would be the moment I finally felt relief—time to kick for the surface and breathe some sweet air, right? But no. The abyss was pulling me in harder than fear ever could. I shoved aside all those thoughts of escape, of safety, and started following it—slowly, carefully kicking forward.
- I’m in tracking mode. Like a spy.
That line just floated up from somewhere in the back of my brain. A memory? A quote? Did I say that once? Maybe not...
Despite the creature’s speed, I somehow kept it in sight. Its size actually helped—it was too big to lose. Every so often, I’d catch a flash of that tail—something worthy of any mythic mermaid or siren. The chase couldn’t last forever, of course. From what I could tell, we were nearing the shelf. This wasn’t open ocean—we weren’t about to tumble into the Challenger Deep. What I was worried about was whether my own resolve would hit the bottom first.
Apparently, all those years of therapy and meds hadn’t been in vain—because a stunt like this?
Yeah, I’d only have pulled this off as a kid. But in the middle of those scattered thoughts, it hit me— where the creature was headed: the grotto.
And almost as soon as I guessed it, my flashlight lit up a gaping hole in the rocky seafloor. The creature's tail vanished inside, right after the rest of it.
A wave of boldness surged through me. That stone mouth—it had always creeped me out. I’d never dared to swim into it, no matter how much I’d wanted to explore. Every time I floated near, I’d
freeze, staring into that blackness so long my eyes stung. Hoping to see something. Usually? Nothing but swarms of tiny fish and the lazy dance of seaweed.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
What the hell is in there? Even thinking about going in made my skin crawl. Why would I do this? Should I really accept an invitation from a creature science hasn’t even catalogued yet? It was clearly intelligent. Deliberate. It wanted me to follow.
I scrambled to remember every breathing technique I knew and tried to steady myself—but then I noticed something odd. The grotto was starting to blur around the edges. Losing its shape.
It was… fading out of reality?
If this kept going, I’d never find out what was inside. And then—lying awake at night, drenched in cold sweat—I’d be left torturing myself with regret. Knowing I missed the mystery. The one that might’ve mattered in my otherwise slow, grey life. Because mysteries—those were the sparks that kept me tethered to this nasty little planet.
I clenched my fists, spun around to hype myself up, and took off like a submarine on a mission, swimming as fast as my body could manage. I never even noticed that the grotto’s walls had already stabilized—settling back into their usual centuries-old stillness.
The moment I crossed the threshold, my headlamp swept side to side, lighting up rocky walls covered in colonies of tiny organisms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the water behind me churn—and I tried to whip around, but my eyes shut tight on their own, seized by pure terror...
Between the Lines. Part One.
...What was that? Whose heavy footsteps were thundering like that?
Erich clung to the hem of his grandmother’s robe with his tiny hands, unwilling to let go, trying to find even the faintest semblance of safety. If he just kept his eyes closed and pressed his forehead tightly into the fabric, nobody could reach him. Not even Dad—who was probably mad at him for interrupting whatever he was doing in the living room.
It felt so good to stand there, knowing that nothing—no one—could hurt or scare him anymore. But
-his protector- had other plans.
Francesca (as she insisted on being called, though Erich could never bring himself to address this stern, elderly woman so informally) gently peeled him away and bent down to whisper in his ear:
- Go to your room and lock the I’ll speak to your father.
She didn’t have to say it twice. Erich bolted for his sanctuary, slammed the door shut, and latched it tight. Just in time too—his father was already there, and voices rose behind him. They were arguing. But it wasn’t even a contest: Francesca’s commanding tone easily overpowered any protest.
- Stop scaring the boy, and stop being so harsh. When are you going to stop fighting with Karina? It’s always the same, every time you come here—over and over again, like some vicious cycle!-
Erich lay flat on the floor, head pressed to the narrow gap beneath the door, straining to catch his father’s reply. That voice—raspy, slow, strangely cold—always made something tighten inside the
boy. It filled him with unease, even revulsion. He shuddered and tried to concentrate on the words, but even this close, they barely made it through. His father always spoke softly… unless he was shouting.
- Francesca, we’ve received an offer to head the excavation project in Some patrons finally stepped forward to fund the research. So we’ll be leaving soon, and you won’t have to deal with us anymore…
- You’re needed here! By your By your daughter. The kids see you barely a month a year—if that. Do you really think that can go on forever?
His father paused. He always thought things over before speaking—and Erich had learned to wait. Finally, twenty long seconds later, the boy heard the reply.
- Our work is important. The discoveries we’re making... they matter. We make sure you have everything you So the issues we’re dealing with… they’re just temporary. In time, everything will work out. And we’ll live happily.
- Oh, so that’s how you justify it all? - Francesca hissed. -I suppose the shouting, the broken plates and furniture—that’s all just temporary too?
- And you should understand, first of all, that our arguments are often about work. We’re both team leaders—it’s not easy. Second, and pardon me for saying so, Francesca, but this is our private business. Not something I want to debate at length.
A heavy stomp on the floor. Francesca cried out:
-Private business you parade in front of everyone—scaring every soul around you. Enough is enough!
The man mumbled something in response—his voice now too muffled to make out. Erich gave up and pulled away from the door. He got to his feet and walked over to his favorite window.
He always did that. His father never wanted to change a thing. Just mumbled and evaded, like his fiery sister often said. And grandma? She had a phrase too: -Your father is a prisoner of illusions. - Erich didn’t fully understand it, but he imagined these -illusions- as ghostly hands gripping his father’s throat, stopping him from being kind…
Climbing up onto the windowsill, he grabbed a snack pack from the nearby table, ripped it open, and started crunching through it—dulling the ache of it all. He even squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by how good it tasted. When he opened them again—he froze.
Outside, right near the garden fence, a girl about his age was darting around. She had long chestnut hair and a little green sweater. That’s all he could make out from the distance—but that was enough. Because suddenly, the girl stopped dead in her tracks… and looked straight at his window.
Yikes! That stare! Erich flinched hard, ducking down to stay out of sight. Why was a regular girl so scary?
He stayed there, head lowered, for a long time. But curiosity crept back in, overpowering his fear. Slowly, he raised his eyes just above the windowsill.
She was still there—now skipping rope, full of energy. And when she noticed him, she gave a few sharp nods, beckoning him to come outside and join her.
What a strange girl… but oh, how he wanted to play. There were no other kids around. Just old folks, a childless couple, and that one teenager who called him a runt and refused to even talk to him. But now—now there was a girl. A real one. A potential playmate.
A chance like this didn’t come often.
The boy cast a furtive glance around and, jumping down, quickly slipped on his dusty sandals—the ones he had sneakily dragged into the living room so he wouldn’t have to part with them: he loved the picture of his favorite superhero on the soft material. He also grabbed another unopened pack of snacks and a bottle of orange juice to share with his future friend. After all, one shouldn’t be greedy, and the girl had been jumping around so much she was probably hungry!
Tuning in with his -echo locators- (as he called his ears), he realized the hallway was quiet, which meant his father had gone off for his midday nap. Louise had picked up the same habit—often crashing out for a nap right when everyone else was up and having fun.
Erich gently opened the door and nearly slammed it shut again because he heard a rapid knock. But it was just a woodpecker tapping at a tree: the window in the room had been left ajar, and from there you could hear even that. After all, they lived in nature!
The house was empty.
Everyone had scattered to their rooms, and so the boy calmly made his way to the much-desired destination—the entrance, or rather, the exit from the house. Now he could speed up. He wasn’t afraid at all of the upcoming meeting with the girl—on the contrary, he wanted to reach a speed of ten Flashes just to see her faster. That scary look she gave him was already long forgotten.
And the girl had stopped her exercises and now stood still, smiling brightly, holding her jump rope in one hand. On her wrist sat a green watch, matching the color of her sweater, with the silly face of some ugly hairless kitten that was making a ridiculous and goofy expression.
- Cool watch! – Erich ran up, out of breath, and pointed at – Where’d you get it?
The girl replied in a loud and strong voice that didn’t match the look of such a little girl at all:
- My mom gave it to me for my birthday! I really wanted it and waited a long time for my parents to surprise me.
The boy scratched his forehead in confusion and said:
- But that’s such a simple gift! Didn’t you want something cooler for your birthday? Like, maybe some gadgets or something like that...
The girl, not even slightly embarrassed, looked at him strictly and said reproachfully:
- It’s not my fault that my family doesn’t have the money to give me And anyway, even the tiniest thing, if it’s from someone you love, is more valuable than anything else.
Erich stepped back under the weight of her crushing reasoning and only now noticed the faded fabric of her sweater, the worn patches on her tights, and her shoes, where the dull clasp was falling off. The boy wasn’t a bully, and he would never hurt someone over money!
He felt so ashamed that a single tear rolled down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away so as not to look like a wimpy crybaby, and immediately got mad at his own weakness, snapping at the girl who had done nothing wrong:
- I wasn’t trying to offend you, come on! I just ..
- Don’t get so worked It’s fine. – The girl came to his rescue, understanding that he was just deeply upset in the moment, – My name’s Nibi, by the way. What’s yours?
- What kind of name is .. – the boy mumbled, – I’m Erich.
- That’s just what they call You know what nicknames are?
- .. now you’re teasing me. – The boy got offended again, surprised himself that he was acting like such a whiny little kid, – I’ve got a nickname too—Big E, that’s what they call me at school.
And my sister does too.
The girl suddenly got curious about the last part:
- Is she pretty? Your sister?
- She looks like an angry puffed-up – The boy blurted out without thinking, and then he and Nibi exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
- Want to play? – The girl
- Of course! You even need to ask? Do you like bowling? I’ve got a couple balls in the yard, and I throw them at pins. Bet I’ll win!
Nibi even snorted, showing her disagreement with his claim, but didn’t take the bet and instead offered her own idea:
- I’ve got a better I built my own castle not far from here. Want to see it?
Wow! His new acquaintance turned out to be full of surprises—faster than any Santa Claus pulling them out of her invisible sack. Who wouldn't want to visit a real castle? What kind of question is that?!
The boy, shivering with anticipation, shouted:
- Let’s go! Lead the way!
And the girl burst into joyful laughter and dashed off so quickly that Erich could barely keep up. His shoes weren’t made for running, and at one point, he even stumbled on a small rock and slammed his knee hard into the ground, scraping it until it bled. But who cares about that when you’re already being outrun and risk losing such an important race?!
Ignoring the pain completely, he almost caught up with his companion and, drawing level with her, found her standing right on the edge of the nearby forest, gazing at a spacious wooden hut, crafted from branches and twigs. The girl turned around and asked proudly:
- Well, what do you think?
Erich couldn’t even find the words to express his admiration, so he just held his breath and silently took in the interwoven branches, the pointed roof, and the entrance draped with a curtain. Nibi understood everything without a word, and her eyes lit up with joy, realizing how deeply her creation had touched his heart.
But how could they just stand there all day when right before them stood none other than…
- That’s what I decided to call it. My mom’s a history teacher and she often tells me about ancient times. And I just really liked that word.
Erich barely managed to move his frozen lips and said in awe:
- You couldn’t have picked a better name!
And together, they climbed inside, lifting the curtain of the grand structure, where everything became bright—so bright…