The new arrival of goldfish were all healthy, except for one. Dull, black scales, torn fins, and one dark, large eye remained, forever searching frantically for a predator. He lay at the bottom of the bowl, fins flapping endlessly as the other goldfish took turns to dive down and nip further away at the thin skin of his fins. Sage called him a fighter — an underdog. Lauren Greene felt bad for it.

She eyed the goldfish pitifully while completing her cleaning duties. She could relate to the unfortunate thing. Sitting at the bottom while being ganged up on by the stronger ones. Hell, even she had come close to being one-eyed like him. over her bangs, caressing the scar that slashed through her eyebrows, before pausing her mopping and tapping the glass tank to discourage the stronger fish from the weaker one. They scattered from the sound, and the poor fish just slowly shimmied into his hide , eye twitching as he braced for another attack that was sure to come.

"Be nice, guys. Not cool," she chastised quietly.

"They're still giving that poor fish a hard time?" Sage asked behind her.

Lauren nodded, looking briefly over her shoulder at her teenage coworker. "Yup. Poor thing is struggling so much. I don't even know how it's lasted this long."

She had been trying to help the poor thing secretly — setting up more hides that could only house one fish at a time, putting food directly at the bottom of the tank while the others were busy eating at the top. while the others were too distracted to deal with him. The fish was surviving, but cowing in the corner was hardly living, especially when it was so much smaller than the rest.

Sage thought a moment, looking around before whispering, "Robin told me she's gonna throw him out tomorrow. 'No one's gonna buy a sick goldfish,' she said. You might as well take him. If anyone can save him, it's you. "

She had the space, time, resources, and patience for a sickly creature, sure — but that did not guarantee its survival. Taking him in could be all for naught if she wakes up one morning to it floating belly-up. But she had to at least try. For his sake.

Lauren thought about it for only a second, having glimpsed at the poor fish and seeing its large, singular bubble eye watching her carefully, as though pleading for help.

She sighed, laying her fingers on the glass. "Alright, I'll take him."

"Sweet! Now, take your hands off that tank, I just wiped that glass down." Sage jested and Lauren rolled her eyes, laughing.

Sage was able to set her up with some discounted fish supplies that were to be thrown out the next day — a filter, tank, some food, some aquatic plants, drops to de-chlorinate and ready the water, and substrate. She even took the fish's favorite hide from his previous tank along for the journey. It was not like this pathetic pet store had any sort of cameras to watch the girls take the supplies that were meant to be discarded. It was a small, family-owned business, and it showed in the mouse-bitten walls and overall ferret smell that stuck in your hair after a long day's work.

Sage helped Lauren carry everything to her old Beemer, popping the trunk and placing most of the items inside a large cardboard box. The fish itself was last on the list. Without a hide, the other fish began to bully him once more, diving down deep and nipping at any exposed fin or loose scale. Lauren tapped on the tank furiously to discourage the bullies before fetching the plastic bags used for grabbing the fish and sticking it in the tank. She was pleasantly surprised to see the little black fish wriggle his way from the bottom of the tank all the way up to the top, willingly swimming into the bag, with no stow-aways or a fish net needed.

"Huh, look at that," Sage marveled. "It's like the little dude knew he was going home with you."

Lauren blinked, taking the bag and her new friend out of the tank and holding him up to the light. "Yeah. How strange."

She took him home right when her shift ended, first making sure the shop was locked up and Sage was walked to their car.

Lauren drove carefully, having placed the fish in an old shoe box and buckled it into the front seat.

Her car radio no longer worked, so she spent the twenty minutes driving home and singing softly to herself. Every so often, she turned away from the road to check on the little fish next to her. He bobbed with the shaking water, but strangely was not hovering at the bottom like she was so acccustomed to seeing. He stayed up at the top, borderline breaking the surface of the water. It almost looked like he was watching through his one good eye everything that was in his eye line.

Curious little creature , she thought with a smile, continuing to sing to herself.

Upon their arrival home, Lauren had a routine, one that she stuck by no matter what. She waited for a moment with locked doors and a foot on the brake, the engine still fired up. She peered all around her, whipping her head around to any perceived movement, any slight sound. And then, after what felt like an eternity, she relaxed, placing the car in park and removing the keys.

She walked swiftly, leaving the fish in the locked car briefly to go up to her apartment. She opened the three separate locks and scanned the apartment momentarily. Nothing out of place. A quaint little apartment, complete with a single room, a single bathroom , and a built-in bookcase on the wall. One couch, one bed, and a decently stocked kitchenette. Not too many things so as to hinder her ability to up and flee if the circumstances deemed it so.

After her observation, she closed the door, locked one lock to prevent any possible intruders from taking advantage of an unlocked apartment, and went back down to the car. From there, she moved quickly and efficiently. She grabbed the fish, then rounded around to the trunk where she placed the creature on top of the container with the supplies. She carefully positioned the packages on the ground, promptly took note of her surroundings, and locked the car door for the final time.

Then she finally brought everything up the stairs, the bag wobbling ever so slightly despite her careful steps. She unlocked the one deadbolt and hurried her way inside, quickly locking everything behind her once more.

In the comfort of her home, she could relax. Never having to look over her shoulder, never having to worry about someone else's temper. She was safe here. She made sure of it.

Lauren spent the remainder of the evening setting up the fish tank. She had not been able to cycle the tank for the allotted two-to-three weeks, but she was grateful for the drops that Sage had swiped for her. After allowing the bag to settle in the new tank for a while to allow the fish to adapt to temperature change, she took the rubber band off the plastic and released the contents into the new enclosure.

The fish swam around, checking everything out. He settled himself down into his pineapple hide, and Lauren smiled warmly. And now he had a place to feel safe without being attacked.

She had him settled on the floor for the first night, just until she got a small table to prop him up on.

"Don't worry little guy, I'll take care of you," she murmured, lying on her belly in front of the tank. "You don't have to worry about those rude fish anymore. You're safe here. "

Nighttime had a routine of its own. Lauren made her rounds around the apartment. She started at the front door, assuring that everything was locked. All three deadbolts, the doorknob, and the chain.

Next, she went to the kitchenette window and assured the latch was where it needed to be, then she checked that the periwinkle northern wall that overlooked the riverbank below was also secured. The bathroom window was too small for anyone to get in and out of , but she still double-checked it just in case.

Finally, she made her way to her bedroom. The window above her bed had iron bars running vertically along the inside of the glass — the only window that felt remotely safe, and that was because it was right beside the fire exit door that led out to a series of metal stairs, allowing for a quick exit to the alleyway below. That door had a silent alarm if triggered, which made her scarcely decorated bedroom the safest room in the apartment.

Once her rounds were over, she double- and triple-checked everything again. She could not sleep without it, picking relentlessly at the skin around her nails repeatedly if her routine was not done to her specifications. Too many times had she gone to work with Band-Aids on her fingers after not being able to complete her obsessive goal of checking the locks and ensuring her safety.

The fish watched her through it all. And she sheepishly felt the need to explain herself: "Gotta make sure everything's locked. I have... a bad habit of worrying about safety." The fish gurgled out a stream of bubbles and Lauren facepalmed herself. "Aaaand I'm explaining myself to a fish. Good going, Ren."

But despite her embarrassment, it did feel nice to talk to something in this too-quiet place. Even if it could not talk back, it still felt nice to have something there.

She named him Lycros, after a dream that she had had the first night he was in the house. The dream that still haunts her.

In it, a man with black talons and inky tresses was cast out of his home, in a wash of blood and violence and mind-blowing curses. A kingdom beneath the sea made of bone and shells, stained in crimson and angry familial ties. Flashes of a broken bond peppered her dreams, watching as the man lost everything in a struggle for power. Lycros vowed vengeance with the bubbles rising from his mouth as he was cursed into being a small goldfish, very much like the one just outside her bedroom door. She never saw his face directly, only seeing the curve of the jaw and the veins running across the backs of his hands and branching up his muscular forearms.

He was handsome. Nevertheless, it haunted her.

She found she quite liked the name that originated from her dreamscape, and in the morning, when she was feeding the fish, she spoke of his name. The fish seemed to perk up, darting to the top of the tank and bobbing around to better see with his one eye.

"Do you like that?" she laughed, beaming brighter than the sun entering her kitchenette window. "I do, too. What a strong name for a strong fish."

The weeks that followed showed a definite improvement in the little fish. His scales, once dull, had brightened up in a sleek black, with gold shimmering along the edges of each scale. He was a little livelier than he was before, content with roaming the tank instead of hiding down in his little pineapple hut. And when she returned each night from work, Lycros would be there waiting for her, wiggling his tail happily before zooming around the tank like a race car. At least Lauren interpreted it as happy But even if she was putting anthropomorphic ideals onto a fish, it did not stop her from being happy to see the little creature.

She loved being able to come home to something and loved spending her time with him. He was not noisy, was not destructive, and most importantly, Lycros was happy to see her. She would put her hand in the tank, and he would curl himself into her palm, adoring her touch.

"He's like a weird, wet cat," Sage remarked when they came over after school one day when the pet store was closed.

The teenager frequently stopped by Lauren's apartment when they had nothing better to do. It made it easier to do when their father lived in the complex across the street. But Lauren never minded the company, opting to make sandwiches for the teen when she knew school was out and the pet store was closed.

"At least he doesn't get fur all over the place and scratch my furniture like a cat," Lauren murmured, rubbing her thumb over Lycros' back. "He's a good fish."

"Crazy to think he was so close to death's door a month ago. He looks great, what have you been feeding him?"

Lauren removed her hand from the tank, drying it off on the back of her pants. "Flake and pellet food, dried bloodworms, boiled peas, live brine shrimp — the usual. I try to give him the most balance possible in his diet, and I definitely make sure he doesn't overeat."

"Well, whatever you're feeding him, he's really liking it. I can't believe how big he is. Like, I've never had a goldfish last for longer than a week, but I didn't think they could grow this quickly."

Thinking about it, she had not realized how big he had become. When she first got him, he was no bigger than a quarter, and now, he was as big as her palm.

"Huh, I guess you're right. I'm gonna have to get a bigger tank at the rate he's growing."

She had dusted off an ancient laptop and after a few seconds of mustering up the courage, she fired it up, double-checking that the location was off, and she was not logged into any of her socials. Thus began her online scouring for a larger tank to better accommodate Lycros' size. She found a nice one that was on sale, and quickly purchased it, grateful that it came with the tools needed for a quick set-up. Another filter, some artificial lights that cycled 12 hours on and 12 hours off, and some plastic tank accessories.

"What do you think, Lycros? Should we use these plastic plants or buy some more real plants? I'll have to get some more substrate and greenery, but I can splash on the next paycheck, huh?"

She held up the fake plants in front of the tank, in plain view of the black fish. She obviously was not expecting an answer when she asked the question but was surprisingly given a nonverbal one. With wide eyes, she watched as Lycros observed one plastic plant, and swam over to examine the other, before seemingly shaking his head and turning around to wrap himself in the real aquatic plants that had grown considerably since their first placement.

Lauren was speechless. The fish just chose between plastic and real plants. Slack-jawed, she placed the plastic plants on the ground and kneeled before the tank.

"Lycros... can you understand me?" she whispered.

The fish emerged from his foliage and hovered right in front of her, watching her with his one bubbly eye. With a wave of its body, it seemed to nod.

Lauren swallowed, mind racing. How was it that this fish understood her? This was bizarre — beyond bizarre. Surely, she was imagining it.

Only one way to tell...

Wetting her lips and furrowing her brow, she gave a command to assess her hypothesis. "Go to the bottom left of the tank if you can understand me."

Lycros stared at her briefly and right when she was about to scoff at herself for believing a fish could understand her, he followed the order. He swam down to the bottom left of the tank and seemed to wait for further instruction. Lauren was absolutely dumbfounded , running her hands through her dyed platinum-blonde hair. "This... this is crazy! How are you doing this? Can you do this next time Sage's here? They have got to see this!"

Lycros held still, before doing the wave with this body to indicate a nod.

Lauren noticed the hesitancy, and promptly lowered her energy burst. "You don't have to show them if you don't want to, you know. We could keep this between us. Would you like that?"

Immediately, Lycros nodded using his whole body again, and Lauren laughed at his enthusiasm. Reaching her hand into the tank, Lycros swam into her palm.

"Okay, it's a promise."

Lauren's days brightened even more after that, now that she had a strange, super-smart fish waiting for her at home.