Riku anchored his boat in a sheltered cove as twilight draped the coastline in bruised shades of purple and gray. The sea, deceptively calm now, lapped gently against the hull, but the memory of those hollow eyes haunted him. He knew he couldn't ignore the warning signs; whatever was out there in the depths was ancient, intelligent, and relentless.
He needed answers.
By the time he reached the small coastal village of Aomori, darkness had settled like a velvet curtain. Lanterns flickered along the docks, and the air carried the faint tang of salt and seaweed. Old fishermen huddled over sake, muttering prayers and tossing wary glances toward the water. Riku approached one, a wiry man with skin weathered like driftwood and eyes that had seen too many storms.
"You saw it too, didn't you?" the man asked before Riku could speak.
"I… I don't know what I saw," Riku admitted. "Something in the water… it wasn't human. It—"
"The Umibōzu," the fisherman interrupted, his voice low. "The Black Tide. It comes when the sea has been angered, or when someone trespasses where they shouldn't. You've angered it, son."
Riku swallowed. "Why? How? I didn't do anything—"
The fisherman's eyes darkened. "Some things are not meant to be understood. Legends say the Umibōzu rises when greed or recklessness stirs the ocean. It tests us… and takes what it chooses."
Riku's mind raced. He had always considered himself careful, seasoned by years at sea. Yet now, standing on solid ground, he felt more vulnerable than ever.
Determined, he sought the village shrine, where old texts and scrolls chronicled the region's myths. Under the dim glow of a lantern, Riku poured over fragile parchment, tracing characters that told of massive shadows rising from the depths, of sailors pulled into the sea, and of rituals meant to appease forces older than memory itself. One scroll, yellowed and brittle, caught his eye:
"The Black Tide is patient, bound by the abyss. Only those who respect the balance between man and ocean may survive its gaze. Beware the eyes that consume, for they see more than the flesh."
Riku's heart pounded. The Umibōzu was more than legend—it was a force tied to the sea itself. And if he didn't uncover its secret, he feared the Black Tide would claim him, just as it had claimed countless others.
Night deepened, and the wind carried a low, eerie hum from the sea. Riku stepped outside, peering into the black horizon. Somewhere beneath the waves, it waited. Silent. Patient. Watching.
And he realized with a chill that his journey had only just begun.