Waves crash against sand as hundreds of wooden row boats beach themselves on the coast of Ruby's rest, the small coastal town with a population of seven hundred.
Children run around scattering flower petals while women paste posters for today's event — the Sea Lord Festival — and the men string up fishing rods and ready their ships.
"Eva!" a male voice shouts.
A woman with sun‑touched skin and honey‑blonde hair — cut into a messy chin‑length bob with choppy layers — stands on a wooden platform built into a large tree, fishing rod in hand and cast out.
"SHUT UP, YOU'LL SCARE THE FISH!" she yells back.
The man steps out to look up at her. He has a fancy white shirt with long draping fabric covering his shoulder and wrapping around his neck, layered brown trousers, black heeled boots, curly flowing black hair, and small round glasses.
"Shut up, ya bitch! They're already scared of your ugly mug!"
"Oh, you think you're one to talk, dickhead!" Eva shouts back, not looking at him but at the ocean.
"Come off it, we've got a fucking event to get to," the man says.
Eva yanks her fishing rod out of the sea, flicks her wrist, and the line whips behind her — hooking onto the back of the man's fancy clothes.
"Oi—wait, you sack of shit!" he yelps as the hook catches and lifts him off the ground.
"I've got fish to catch," she proclaims, her brown‑red eyes locked on the ocean instead of him.
"Fine," he mutters, dangling in the air as he tries to unhook himself.
"And stay out!" a man shouts, throwing a boy out of his restaurant.
The blue‑grey‑haired boy hits the floor and gets himself up. "He could've just asked me to leave," Noman says, wiping the dust off his shirt. He places his hand behind his red sleeve sash.
"Ah—wait." He checks the pocket behind his scarf. "Where did it go?"
He keeps checking, finds nothing, and then dashes back to the restaurant door, hitting it over and over with his fist. "Please, please, please, please! Let me back in, please! Sir, come on, please! There's something important I left in there!" Noman shouts.
People look at the boy, disturbed by his frantic actions.
"What in the fuck are ya doing?" a woman's voice says, and Noman turns to see Eva.
Noman turns to the woman with blonde hair, tears swelling in his eyes. "I dropped something important and the man won't let me back in," he says, voice cracking.
"We should leave him be. He's probably just homeless," a man in fancy clothes with black hair says.
The woman looks at him like he's some deformed ass cheek, then turns her attention back to Noman.
"What did you drop?" she asks, walking toward him.
"Huh… it's, umm… an incense stick. Yeah. Just make sure not to break it," Noman says, pleading with the woman.
"Stay here, you numb‑nuts. I'll get it back." Eva rolls her eyes, shoves Noman to the side, and kicks down the door.
"Oi, Pops!"
"Eva, you murky brat, get back here and help us with prep! Shit‑ton of tourists are coming and we need to wring them for all they're worth!" her father says.
He's a short bald man with a rope tied around his head and wearing nothing but an apron.
"Will you put some fucking clothes on, old man!" she shouts back, looking around the restaurant.
"What are you on about? I always wear—" He looks down. "What the fuck—when did that happen?" The people in the restaurant laugh at the old coot; it's a common occurrence.
Eva searches around and finds it — a small stick on the table. She picks it up. "Weird that he cares about this," she mutters to herself.
She leaves her family restaurant. "I got it."
"Thank you," Noman says, but as she's about to pass the stick over, a woodpecker flies down and snatches it. Noman's eyes go wide.
"Wait!" he shouts, sprinting after the bird.
"Are you going to help this time?" the noble‑looking man mocks.
"Jump off a cliff, Foster." Eva runs after Noman.
"Come back!" Noman shouts, looking up at the sky and following the bird. People wheel a cart of fish for the festival, but Noman leaps over it, rolls, and keeps running after the bird, dodging anyone in his way.
"Damn, he's quick," Eva says, following after him — but then she notices the direction they're going. The bird dives down near the beach.
Noman stops running and walks across the promenade, watching the bird as it lands on the figure of a man smoking.
He stands on a beached rowboat, the waves coming closer and closer.
"How have you been, Noman?" he asks, the smoke from his cigarette fogging up his glasses and hiding his eyes.
"Fine, Asmen… but I want my stick back," Noman says, a sweat drop rolling down his cheek.
Asmen takes a puff of his cigarette, making Noman look even more nervous as it burns low.
"What memory did you put in the stick?" Asmen asks his apprentice.
"…A cat," Noman answers.
Asmen lets out a smoky breath. "Really? Well, guess that's too bad for you."
The cigarette goes out. Asmen drops it, stomping on it — officially classifying it as destroyed — and a burst of energy erupts. Summoned from the cigarette is a child‑sized monster with reptile skin, a turtle shell, and a dish of water on its head: a kappa.