The God/Siren of the Forgotten Isle Giyu Tomioka, a young man of twenty-one with blue crystal ocean eyes and long black hair tied neatly behind him, lay sprawled on the golden sands, his limbs slack like a discarded marionette. The waves had spat him onto the shore of an unknown island, his ship lost to the merciless storm. As he tried to move, he felt a delicate yet firm touch against his chest, and above him stood a woman—no, something far greater. Shinobu Kocho, a goddess as ancient as time, gazed down at him with hypnotizing purple eyes, her curly black hair tipped in violet cascading around her like a living shadow. "Shh," she cooed, her voice as sweet as poisoned honey. "You belong to me now, little lost thing." Time lost meaning on the island. Each day, Shinobu played with him as though he were a mere trinket in her vast collection. She adorned him in fine silks, fed him ambrosial fruits, and stroked his hair with fingers as light as butterfly wings. Giyu sat by her side in silent despair, his heart heavy with longing for a world he could barely remember. The more he stayed, the more his mind blurred, memories slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He was no more than a doll, a pretty ornament for Shinobu’s amusement, and each night, as she whispered to him in that intoxicating voice, he felt himself breaking further, piece by piece. One evening, as the sun bled into the sea, Giyu looked toward the horizon and murmured, "I want to go home." Shinobu's ever-present smile faltered for but a moment before she knelt beside him, her fingers tracing his cheek with an eerie gentleness. "Silly thing," she sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You are home. And you are mine, forevermore." As the air around them shimmered with divine power, Giyu felt his will slipping away, his sorrow swallowed by the goddess's endless embrace. The ocean, vast and indifferent, watched in silence—his only witness to the eternity of his captivity.