Chapter 61 - Back in his hands

The night crept in slowly, the deep blues and blacks of the forest thickening around them like a blanket.

They both settled in the hollow of the massive tree trunk, its shelter offering some protection from the chill of the evening air.

Mi Aok leaned heavily against him, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion.

Being out of the water for so long had drained the little mer. Aok's body slumped, his small frame too tired to hold up any longer.

"Get some rest," Kui whispered softly. "I'll keep watch."

Aok barely managed a nod before his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evening out almost immediately. The child's chest rose and fell softly, and for a moment, Kui allowed himself to relax, to breathe in the quiet of the forest.

But something nagged at him.

His eyes drifted down to Aok's tail, noticing small scratches and abrasions all over it. The smooth scales were marred with rough patches, some parts even torn.

Kui winced, regret flooding through him.

He had been so panicked, dragging Aok on the floor, not realizing how much the child's delicate tail had scraped against the uneven flooring. Guilt twisted in his stomach.

Gently, he reached out, his fingers brushing over the rough, damaged scales.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized just how dry Aok's tail was.

Panic seized him.

Merfolk needed water.

Their tails and fins had to stay wet, or else…

"Oh no…" Kui muttered, his voice tight with fear.

He quickly shrugged off his shirt, his hands moving fast as he searched through the small sack Guilin had given him.

His fingers dug around frantically until they brushed against something hard and familiar. A gourd.

He let out a breath of relief and pulled it out, but something else caught his eye. Tucked beside the gourd was a small leather pouch.

Kui froze, recognizing it instantly.

His heart pounded as he opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a broken brush, its bristles worn and cracked, but still there.

he hugged it close to his chest, a wave of relief washing over him. "Thank god… it's safe…" His voice was a barely audible whisper.

A soft, wheezing sound shattered the brief calm. Kui's head snapped toward the child.

panic flaring again as he saw the little mer's gills flaring rapidly, struggling to move. His small chest heaved, his breath coming in short, labored gasps.

"Shit!" Kui cursed under his breath, his hands moving on instinct. He quickly uncorked the gourd, pouring the water onto his shirt. With hurried, shaky movements, he pressed the damp cloth over Aok's gills, praying it would help.

At first, nothing happened. Aok's wheezing continued, his small body trembling, but Kui kept at it, dabbing the wet shirt against his gills, his hands desperate but gentle. After what felt like an eternity, Aok's breathing began to steady. His small, flared gills softened, the sharp movements easing as he started to breathe normally again.

Kui let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, his whole body sagging with relief. But his heart was still racing, his mind filled with images of what could've happened. What would've happened if he hadn't noticed in time.

Gently, he shifted Aok in his lap, carefully wiping down his dry, cracked tail with the damp shirt. The water soaked into the child's skin, the scales slowly regaining a bit of their usual sheen. Kui kept going, making sure every inch of Aok's tail was covered in moisture, his fingers careful not to press too hard on the scratches and bruises.

The child stirred a little in his sleep, but his breathing remained steady, his body finally at peace.

Kui's movements slowed as the adrenaline began to fade, his own exhaustion catching up to him. He didn't even realize how tired he was until his head drooped, his eyes growing heavy. Without thinking, he pulled Aok closer, wrapping his arms protectively around the little mer. A strange warmth bloomed in his chest as he held the child close, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his voice barely more than a breath. He didn't know if he was apologizing for dragging Aok roughly, or for not noticing sooner how dry his tail had gotten. Maybe it was for everything—the fear, the running, the uncertainty of what was to come.

But for now, they were safe. For now, the forest was quiet, and the darkness didn't seem so threatening.

Before Kui could even think to pull away, his eyes fluttered shut, and sleep overtook him. He drifted off, still holding the little mer close, the steady rise and fall of Aok's small chest a quiet reassurance against the storm of emotions swirling inside him.