“Thank you for saving my life.”
She waved it off.
“Next time, do not fall inside my working area.”
He stepped closer.
“Will I see you again?”
She blinked, then quickly masked it with attitude.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
She smirked.
“On whether you have transport money.”
He laughed.
“I will bring extra.”
As Henry walked back toward his crew, he paused once, turned, and looked at her.
Fumi stood there, arms folded, pretending not to care, but her eyes followed him just a little.
“Let’s go, sir,” one of the crew members said.
Henry nodded.
But as he stepped away, something pulled at him.
Not the sea.
Not the wind.
Something else.
Something new.
Fumi picked up her net slowly, looked at it, then sighed.
“Well, today I caught confusion.”
She shook her head.
“God, next time, please be specific.”
She turned toward the village, walking back, muttering to herself.
“Imagine. I went to catch fish and came back with a human being.”
She paused, then added,
“At least he said thank you. Some fish do not even have manners.”
But as she walked, she smiled—just a little, without realizing it.
And behind her, the sea moved gently, quiet, satisfied, because something had begun.
Something neither of them fully understood yet.
But something that would not end easily.
Because sometimes the biggest catch is not what you pull from the water.
The yacht cut through the water again, but this time everything felt different—too quiet, too careful, too aware.
Henry stood at the same spot where he had fallen earlier, hands in his pockets, staring at the ocean as if it had personally offended him.
One of the crew members passed behind him slowly—very slowly—like someone walking past a sleeping lion.
Another whispered,
“Do not even go near that rail again.”
The first nodded.
“If he falls again, I am resigning inside this water.”
Henry exhaled.
“You nearly killed me today,” he muttered to the sea.
The sea, of course, said nothing because it had already done what it needed to do.
Back in Lagos, everything returned to normal.
On the outside.
Inside Henry’s mansion, the lights glowed softly against the polished marble floors. The air conditioning hummed with quiet luxury. The city lights reflected beautifully against the glass walls.
Perfection.
Control.
Order.
Everything exactly how it should be.
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