Waaah, I'm being forced into loving my yandere wife's brain.

The silver fish arrived at this secluded pool after a night rain that could soak the crabapple blossoms, following the fragrance of the flowers.

The pool was covered with fallen crabapple petals, their pink shimmering and their rich fragrance filling the air.

The silverfish swam towards the scent, nimbly navigating around several giant rocks covered in moss, and passing through clusters of stalactite projections swaying like aquatic plants, before the waterway suddenly narrowed.

What lay ahead was no longer a wide, dark pool, but a crevice, hidden deep within the rock wall, a narrow crevices barely wide enough for it to pass through sideways.

The edges of the crack are not sharp; they have been smoothed by the long years, and touching them feels warm and smooth, like the texture of some living thing, seemingly still undulating slightly.

That is the breath of nature.

The little silver fish stopped.

It sensed the vibrant attraction gushing forth from the depths of the crevice, with a faint pulse.

But the rift is too narrow; perhaps it's an unexplored entrance, fraught with danger.

But the little silver fish did not hesitate.

With a sudden flick of its tail, the slender body darted into the narrow crevice, a flash of silver light, and it disappeared deep inside.

Almost instantly, the resistance appeared.

The rock walls on both sides seemed to suddenly awaken, closing inward with an almost obstinate will, trying to trap, lock, and crush it in this unknown crevice.

The little silver fish twisted and turned its body desperately, each movement like a struggle against the entire stratum.

The little silver fish felt its back being pressed down tightly, its tail fin almost unable to unfold, and the pulse of the living spring was just inches away in front of it, but the narrow gap was suddenly narrowing, about to swallow it up.

However, its struggles seemed to only provoke a stronger reaction from the deep stone walls.

The rock wall seemed to be angered by this stubborn resistance, tightening its grip even more and more rapidly, and the clear spring water seeping from the stone surface gradually became viscous.

The little silver fish got fierce.

It no longer tries to pass through as a whole, but rather, like a real silver ray, stretches itself into a taut string.

Head, thorax, abdomen, and tail—each segment pushes forward.

The scales clung to the narrow passage.

It painstakingly carved out this previously unexplored path, inch by inch, on its own.

The previous tightness was gradually stretched open by its repeated penetrations, and the originally rigid stone wall seemed to begin to loosen, with the edges showing a soft, polished sheen.

Seeing this, the little fish swam even more vigorously.

The pressure from above suddenly vanished.

So, its entire body was ejected from the end of the crevice and plunged into a wide-open body of water.

This is a secluded pool where the sun never shines, but the taste is sweeter than the little silver fish have ever tasted before.

Immediately afterwards, an extremely clear spring gushed forth uncontrollably from the depths of the crevice.

The water, carrying the heat of millennia underground and the sweetness of minerals, surged upwards with fine bubbles, gently lifting the small silver fish.

Only then did it see that the narrow crevice it had drilled its way through was now, as if a dam had burst, continuously spewing out fresh water, and the previously dry rock wall was now covered with crystal-clear water droplets.

The little silver fish floated above the spring, the pain from the forced entry into its body gently soothed by the flowing water.

The newly formed mucous membrane shimmered with a pearly luster in the water.

The pulse of the spring water now merged with its own heartbeat.

The little silver fish swayed its tail fin and stopped looking for a way out.

This dark, narrow place, which had almost strangled it, is now bursting with life because of it.

From then on, it became part of this secluded pool, and the pool, moved by it, entered its body.