He didn't know how long he had been asleep.
Time had no meaning underwater. Darkness bled into light, light into darkness, and he drifted through it all, half-dreaming, half-aware.
Then, with a twitch, his fins stirred. His tail flicked. His mind sharpened.
He was awake again.
The current carried him gently, nudging his battered little body through reeds and rocks. Above, sunlight broke into wavering ribbons. Fish scattered past—slim, silver things that darted with purpose.
He was not like them.
He could only bounce.
Instinctively, he flicked his tail, jerking forward. Then again. Then again. His movements were clumsy, more spasms than strokes, but it kept him drifting. He swam endlessly, mind numb, body aching, until a new sensation gnawed at him.
Hunger.
It started as a hollow emptiness. Then it sharpened into pain. His stomach twisted, growling without a voice. He had no idea how long it had been since he last ate—if he had ever eaten since becoming a koi.
Food…
The thought throbbed louder than anything else.
So he swam. Endlessly. Searching.
Near the surface, he noticed something strange. Shadows dangled into the water—thin strings ending in wriggling shapes. The smell hit him immediately, rich and oily, something primal that made his stomach clench.
Bait.
Every other fish in the river knew what to do. They darted forward, mouths snapping. One by one, they bit down, and in a flash they were yanked upward, disappearing forever.
The koi stared, transfixed. He wanted to do the same. His body quivered with hunger. But there was one problem.
He didn't know how.
He flopped against the bait, brushing it with his lips, but nothing happened. He smacked it with his fins. He even tried bouncing against it. Nothing.
What the hell?! he thought furiously. How do you even bite?!
His jaw moved, but it was clumsy, useless. His teeth—if he even had any—didn't work the way they should. The bait slipped away again and again.
The hunger grew unbearable. His body weakened. He drifted closer, desperate.
And then—
A sharp pain pierced through his side.
He jerked violently as a hook sank into his flesh. Agony ripped through his cold-blooded body, dragging him upward. He flailed, bouncing in panic, but the pull was too strong.
"Got something!" a voice shouted above the surface.
The koi broke into the air. Sunlight burned his eyes. Rough hands grabbed him, tossing him into a bucket.
"What is this? I've never seen a fish like this before…"
The human's voice was curious, almost reverent. Then it hardened.
"…but meat is meat."
The koi thrashed uselessly as the knife fell.
Hot, white pain.
Darkness.
—
[System Notice: Host terminated. Entering long sleep. Revival in progress…]
The koi's mind reeled in horror. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
[Do not worry, Host. You will not feel death. You will only sleep. And wake again.]
And so he did.
—
When his senses returned, he was back in the river. His body was whole, as though nothing had happened. The hunger remained, gnawing, unsatisfied.
He swam again, endlessly.
This time, the bait appeared sooner. His body lunged without thinking.
Snap.
The hook sank into him again.
He was yanked upward, sizzling on a pan before he could even comprehend.
Darkness.
[System Notice: Host terminated. Entering long sleep. Revival in progress…]
He woke. Again.
And again.
And again.
Each time it was different.
Boiled.
Grilled.
Skewered over a fire.
Once, someone dunked him in sauce and called him a delicacy.
The koi screamed internally every time, but no one could hear him. To the humans, he was nothing more than an exotic fish with tender flesh.
Death lost its sting. It became routine, absurd, mechanical. Wake. Hunger. Bait. Pain. Knife. Sleep.
Repeat.
The System's calm voice never wavered.
[Do not worry, Host. This is natural. You cannot die. You will only sleep.]
The koi wanted to strangle it, but he had no hands.
After the fifth or tenth death—he lost count—the fury inside him boiled hotter than his hunger.
No more! I won't just get eaten like this forever!
As if hearing him, the System flickered.
[Condition met. Host has experienced repeated death from consumption. Adaptation triggered.]
The koi froze. "…Adaptation?"
[New skill unlocked: Bite.]
For the first time, a new word gleamed across his mind, brighter than the river's surface.
[Skill: Bite]
Type: Active
Description: Allows Host to use jaws to tear or consume targets.
Effect: Enables consumption of food, baits, or enemies.
The koi's fins trembled. He stared at the water, at the endless wriggling bait above.
A slow, dangerous thought filled him.
Now I know how to bite.
—
The river seemed different. Sharper. Hungrier.
The koi flicked his tail and swam upward. His jaw worked awkwardly at first, then clenched with new purpose.
The hunger that had tormented him now burned with possibility.
And for the first time since his ridiculous rebirth, the koi didn't feel like prey.
He felt like something else.
Something beginning.