Was he foolish, to think that his own brother would recognize him? To stop whatever the hell he's doing? As the gun comes out, rising above the rolling waves of the ocean, Chikusa jerks his own hands upwards to shield his face instinctively. It's no any use; his body won't stand up to a bullet. It wouldn't as a human, and it still won't as a mermaid, no matter what. Still, what else he can do, with his swimming impaired and not fast enough regardless?

...But no shot rings out. Nothing tears through his body, leaving behind that wrongness in its wake. Just the accusation, hanging in the air. Tentatively, from underneath his raised and crossed arms, he peers past. His whisper is quiet and hoarse.

"Makoto, what the fuck."