The sun was dipping into the sea, leaving streaks of orange and violet stretching across the sky like long brushstrokes. The air was cooling, the first breeze carrying a light touch of salt and cigarette smoke drifting from customers lingering outside the Grand Blue shop. Inside, faint laughter, clinking glass, and the unmistakable sound of a chair being smashed against a wall painted the usual evening atmosphere.
Stevan was standing near the entrance, towel draped around his neck, posture straight despite the exhausting dive practice earlier. Most of the club was dragging their feet behind him, moving like survivors returning from a battlefield. Sand was still sticking to their arms and legs. Their hair was a mess. Their eyes were half-open. But Nanaka had sworn they would all "recover in the bar," which translated into "drink until you forget your suffering."
Stevan stepped inside first. The scent hit him immediately—a blend of alcohol, grilled food, sweat, and something indefinable that only existed in Grand Blue. Tokita and Tanaka were already seated at the main table, slamming their fists in rhythm, chanting something that vibrated the wooden floor.
"STE-VAN! STE-VAN! STE-VAN!" they roared upon seeing him, the entire table shaking.
He blinked. "What is this?"
"Tonight's special event!" Tokita declared.
"You survived your first dive with us!" Tanaka added.
"That isn't a special event," Stevan said.
"Here it is!" they insisted.
Iori stumbled in behind Stevan. "Don't fight it. They've been preparing this since lunch."
Kohei collapsed beside him. "My life ended at the cavern."
Aina entered carefully, keeping distance from the two muscular giants as if they were radioactive. Chisa walked in last, her expression already tense, her attention flicking toward Stevan every few seconds.
Nanaka appeared with a tray loaded with bottles. "Everyone sit."
The command carried such weight that even Tokita and Tanaka obeyed instantly. The table filled with the usual chaos—voices overlapping, arguments starting before sentences ended, the clatter of dishes, the shrieks of Iori being pushed into a corner. Stevan sat beside Chisa, who quietly adjusted her hair, watching him with the analytical focus of a scientist observing an unstable specimen.
The curse was rumbling under his skin.
It wasn't violent yet. But it was awake.
Nanaka placed a bottle of hard liquor in front of Stevan. "Your initiation," she said with a calm smile that was far more dangerous than Tokita's roar.
"I don't need an initiation," Stevan replied.
The entire table froze.
Chisa whispered, "You shouldn't have said that."
Tokita leaned over, his shadow engulfing the table. "In Grand Blue… everyone gets initiated."
Tanaka finished, "Everyone."
Stevan exhaled slowly and picked up the bottle. "Fine."
A cheer erupted, so loud that the walls shook.
The liquid burned as it went down, but he didn't cough, didn't choke, didn't wince. His body processed it unnaturally fast. The curse fed on abnormal stimuli. Alcohol was nothing. The club, however, was stunned.
Iori stared at him like a man watching a mythical creature. "He's actually built different."
Kohei hid behind Aina. "He's a monster."
Nanaka smiled approvingly. "Good."
Round after round was forced onto the table, each more questionable than the last. Iori and Kohei were collapsing progressively, voices slurring, cheeks flushed red. Aina was clinging to her dignity like a slippery rope. Tokita and Tanaka were wrestling between shots. Chisa was drinking conservatively, observing every shift in Stevan's posture.
But with each bottle, the curse pushed harder.
His heart was beating too fast. His grip tightened around the glass. His jaw was locking. His back was stiffening. Sensory overload was flooding him—voices growing sharper, colors intensifying, temperatures fluctuating unnaturally.
Stevan placed a hand on the table, knuckles tense.
Chisa noticed instantly. "You're not okay."
"I'm controlling it."
"No, you're not."
Her voice cut through the fog around him like a blade. But the curse didn't retreat this time. It surged. His pulse accelerated with unnatural force. His skin heated. His vision sharpened dangerously. He felt the pressure rising under his ribs, pushing for release.
A loud crash broke the tension—Tokita had thrown Tanaka across the room.
Nanaka shouted, "No breaking the walls!"
Tanaka shouted back, "The wall hit me first!"
Laughter exploded. Stevan's pulse spiked.
Chisa grabbed his wrist. "You need fresh air. Now."
Stevan stood abruptly. The entire shop turned to look—mostly because the sound of the chair skidding back had been louder than expected. He followed Chisa toward the side exit, stepping into the corridor leading to the back door.
Once outside, the night air hit him like a cold wave.
He inhaled sharply, forcing his senses to recalibrate. The curse vibrated under his skin, coiling like a predator waiting for the right moment. Chisa stood in front of him, arms crossed, posture firm.
"What's happening?" she demanded.
He kept breathing. "I'm losing control."
"What triggers it?"
"Emotion. Chaos. Pressure. Alcohol. Noise." He paused. "Grand Blue in general."
Her expression shifted. "Then you can't be here."
"I have to be."
"Why?"
"Because if I isolate myself, it gets worse."
Chisa clenched her teeth. "You're dangerous, Stevan."
He met her eyes. "I know."
"And you still came here?"
"I don't have a choice."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You nearly snapped underwater. And now you're shaking."
Stevan realized she was right. His hands weren't steady anymore. The curse was prickling along his nerves, pushing instincts he fought to suppress.
She pressed her hand against his arm again—just like during the dive.
The effect was immediate.
His vision widened. His pulse steadied. The curse recoiled violently, shrinking back like something burned.
Stevan froze.
Chisa felt the shift too. "Stevan… it reacts to contact?"
He didn't answer.
"Does my touch stop it?"
He stayed silent.
"That's impossible," she said, but her tone carried doubt.
He inhaled slowly. "I don't know why it calms down. But yes. It helps."
Chisa's posture softened slightly, though her eyes remained sharp. "You need to tell me everything, eventually."
"When I understand it myself."
Before she could reply, the back door burst open.
Iori stumbled out, half-conscious, drenched in beer. "Stevaaan! They're planning a stripping contest! Run!"
Kohei collapsed behind him. "Save yourself…"
Aina ran in after them. "Chisa! They're trying to take off my shirt again!"
Chisa's eyes flared with lethal intensity. "I swear if they—"
Tokita's voice roared from inside, "NO ONE ESCAPES INITIATION ROUND TWO!"
Stevan felt the curse twitch.
The chaos was calling to it.
He needed distance. Now.
"I'm going to walk," he said. "I need space before it lashes out."
Chisa nodded reluctantly. "I'll come with—"
"No." His voice was firmer than intended. "I can't risk you if I lose control."
She stared at him, refusing to move. "Then don't lose control."
He stepped back, forcing himself toward the street. The curse buzzed under his skin, simmering like boiling water. Every light, every sound, every chaotic vibration from the shop was making it worse.
He reached the sidewalk.
Then he froze.
Someone was standing across the street.
A silhouette.
Watching him.
Tall. Still. Familiar.
Stevan's breath caught.
The curse surged violently.
Chisa's voice echoed behind him. "Stevan?"
He didn't turn. He didn't blink.
The silhouette faded into the shadows.
The curse whispered under his skin.
Found you.
Stevan's jaw tightened.
The night was no longer calm.