The little orange shape darts around almost too fast for me to follow, ricocheting through the water in different directions like a boomerang, circling around the decorative rocks and weaving in amongst the plants. I watch with an expression of childlike wonder, wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, fascinated by the spectacle of the fish exploring her new space.

“What d’you think of our babies?” comes a voice from a little way behind me, accompanied by the sound of footsteps.

I don’t even look around, too preoccupied with our new pets, but manage to mumble, “S’pretty.”

“I know, right? They’re so pretty, aren’t they? You could just stare at them all day, couldn’t you?”

This time I can’t find the wherewithal to respond, so Sir helps me out by putting his hand on the back of my head and nodding it for me. My eyes don’t move with the rest of my head, still transfixed by little Nobara swimming about her tank, following her up, down, left, right, diagonally... She’s very energetic!

We’ve been talking lately about adding to our little family. I’ve always wanted a dog, but Sir’s allergic. (He occasionally satisfies my need for canine companionship by convincing Ruth - and me - that she’s our puppy, ‘Noodle’. She’s adorable, but unfortunately we can’t actually keep her - she can only be a part-time pet.) Besides, with me and Sir both working full-time, we need as low-maintenance an animal companion as we can get.

I can’t remember who suggested fish (I can hardly remember my own name right now), but we both liked the idea. My nan had an aquarium in her house when I was a kid, and I used to sit and watch the little fishies flit around inside. When I told Sir this, I foolishly used the word ‘mesmerising’ to describe them, which he was inevitably going to pounce on - hence my current state of severe fishnosis.

We only picked them up an hour ago, plus however long I’ve been standing here gawping at them like an idiot. To be fair, my brain was already fairly fuzzy just from the experience of buying them. Before we entered the shop, Sir made it clear, with his intense stare and his snide smirk, that he was the customer, and I was just the wallet. He was going to ask all the questions, and make all the arrangements, while I stood and looked pretty and waited to get out my debit card. Any protests I might’ve offered up were stalled by a simple squeeze on my shoulder, and I just meekly followed him inside with a stupefied smile on my face. (It helped that on some subconscious level, I was fully aware he’d pay back his share later.)

I’ve been watching a tiny orange parrotfish that Sir named Nobara. We’ve also got a grey-black plecostomus we’re calling Maki, who’s investigating the pothos leaves at the moment, and an iridescent teal-green betta that Sir christened Kirara, who just popped out of the little house we put in the tank for them, pulling my attention away from Nobara.

Obviously, right now I’m not really thinking about their names. At present, my thought processes are limited to not much more than ‘pretty fishies’.

Sir puts his arm around my waist, and I sag towards him, letting him prop me up, my head slowly sinking onto his shoulder, my stare still fixated on the fish tank. Now Maki’s caught my gaze, crossing in front of Kirara and tugging my eyes along with her. That keeps happening - whenever one of them gets close enough to the one I’m watching, I find myself involuntarily locking onto them instead.

“What’s on your mind, Rain? What’re you thinking right now?”

After a long moment of groping blindly inside my empty head for a thought, and trying to cajole my mouth and voice into working, I finally manage to faintly hiss, “Ffff... sshhh,” before lapsing back into dumbstruck silence. I can feel him laughing at me, his body vibrating against mine, but I don’t care. I think I’m drooling on him, but I don’t care about that either.

“That’s right, baby. Fffshhhh. That’s all you’re thinking about. You love watching them, don’t you? You don’t wanna stop watching them, do you?”

“Nnnoooo,” I sigh softly, as Kirara’s swirling movements and shining scales ensnare my sight.

“Well, why would you? They’re such sweet little things, and they have such easy lives. They just get to swim around in that tank, not a thought in their tiny brains, just playing, and eating, and looking pretty for us while we take care of them. That sounds so nice, right? I expect you envy them quite a lot, don’t you?”

That was a lot of words. I’ve got to be honest, I lost track early on. He said something about the fish looking pretty, which I agree with. I frown almost imperceptibly, trying to recall anything else he said. Oh - ‘easy lives’, that’s the other thing I picked up on. They do have easy lives. It must be so nice, living like they do. They don’t have to worry about a thing.

“Just pretty, blank little fish,” Sir purrs in my ear, “drifting around in the water. Just sweet, simple, shiny fishies, not a care in the world, not a thought in their brains. You’re a lot like them, aren’t you, Rain? There’s not a thought in your brain either, is there?”

“Umm... no,” I whisper. I did try to find a thought for a moment there, fishing around inside my head again, but nothing bit. My mind is a clear and empty pool.

“Rain’s nice and clear for me, isn’t she?”

“Mm, Rain’s clear, Sir,” I murmur, my cheek squishing into the damp patch I’ve made on his shoulder as I gape unwaveringly at our new pets.

“Is Rain wet for me?”

“Uhhh - R-Rain’s soaking wet for you, Sir...” That’s true. I hadn’t noticed before, but I’m really turned on right now. God, I’m a fucking weirdo, getting horny from standing around staring at some fish. A little moronic giggle bubbles up inside me.

“Just like them. Look at all that water - obviously they’re wet, too,” Sir says matter-of-factly, giving my waist a squeeze. “Not in the same way, sure, but close enough. Not like you can really make the distinction right now, huh, Rain?”

“Ugghh,” I gurgle.

“Yep, our little Jujutsu Sorcerer fish are so blank-minded, empty-headed, and wet, swimming through the water. And so are you, my Rainy-brain. You’re blank, empty, and soaking wet. You’re deep, deep down, in the deep dark waters where your fish friends led you. Where you can’t think, and you just sink. Where you just follow, going deeper all the time.”

“Mngnh.”

“You’re just like them, Rainy. Just a little fish. Just a blank, wet fishy, swimming around your tank. No cares, no concerns, no commitments. You can just feel safe to swim about, knowing you’ve got an owner who’ll take very good care of you.”

I stare vacantly ahead, my mouth starting to slowly, compulsively close and reopen, again and again, my lips making wet little popping sounds each time they part.

He pats me on my lower back. “Off you go. Have a nice little swim, sweetie. Forget I’m even here, and just go explore.”

I finally look away from the smaller, twenty-gallon tank in the corner, glancing around at the much bigger aquarium surrounding me. I take a few stumbling steps, before remembering I don’t have legs, because I’m a fish, so I can just ignore them.

I drift away around my tank, flitting unhurriedly through the water, just exploring the space. There’s all sorts of stuff in here. I can just about recognise what all these objects are - tables, and armchairs, and bookshelves on the wall, and a TV... but then the meaning escapes me. It’s not like any of it’s relevant to me. They’re just decorations, put in by my owner to enrich my environment.

I can barely think about that, either. The concept of my owner, and the outside world he lives in, is distant, nebulous, so far above my hazy head as to be beyond my comprehension. I can’t understand it, and I can’t try to, and I can’t care about not being able to try. I’m just a fish. What do I have to think about, after all?

On I swim, my fins flapping in front of my chest, my mouth opening and closing every couple of seconds. I circulate around and around the room, returning to the same parts over and over again, because I’ve forgotten them already. I have a very short memory, after all. My head’s as waterlogged as my tank, my dim little fish brain washed clean, any thoughts it produces drifting off course, away from the surface of my mind and towards my mouth, where they pop like bubbles.

“Maybe I should give you a Jujutsu Kaisen name too,” my owner’s voice muses in the distance. I can’t tell where they are, other than a vague notion of ‘outside’, because he must be outside my tank, that’s the only thing that makes sense. “Yuko, maybe,” he continues, as I carry on floating about and bursting my thoughts between my lips. “Yeah, that’s kinda cute... I’ll think about it. Doubt this is the only time we’re doing this suggestion. Seems like you’re pretty susceptible to our new babies. They’ll probably have you zonked out every week, even if I don’t do anything...!”

I just keep pop-pop-popping and wafting aimlessly, not interested in his incomprehensible human words - except suddenly they’re coming from much closer, and there’s a dark shape in my peripheral vision. “For the meantime, though, you can swim back up a few levels, and remember you’re a person.”

I’m a person? I’m a person. That’s right. And I have legs, and arms, which unfurl away from my chest, drooping back down to dangle at my sides again. I turn and smile exasperatedly at my owner, my Sir. I know this was him. He turned me into a fish. He fishnotised me. Dickhead.

I’m about to call him as much, when he continues, “That’s right, Rain, you’re a person. You’re a human being, with a human body, human limbs, a human mind and personality.” He smirks deviously. “But you’ve still got the brain of a fish. You’ve still got their three-second memory span. You can’t retain anything longer than that. You just forget everything outside the last three seconds, don’t you?”

I look at him blankly. I know he just said something, but what...? “S-sorry?”

His grin widens. I don’t know why. Did I say something funny? I can’t remember. I smile uncertainly back at him.

“How’re you doing right now, babe?”

“Um - confused. Tryna figure out what’s... what’s going on...” I’m losing the thread of my own sentence, frowning and staring into space.

“What were you just saying?”

“Uhhh...” Good question. If I can just have a minute to think about it, maybe I can... I can... I can do what? What am I trying to remember...?

There’s a hand on my upper arm, jostling it slightly, and a face staring at me with deep, dark eyes. Oh, that’s a pretty face. And it’s looking at me fondly, with adoring eyes and a lopsided smile. I can’t help smiling back.

“What’re you thinking right now?”

“You’re pretty,” I giggle, the words tumbling through my lips.

He beams at me. “Thank you, sweetie!” We just smile each other for a few seconds. Then he asks, “What did you say, again?”

What did I say? I frown, my brain straining vainly to remember. I bite my lip, I shift my weight from one foot to another, I rub my thighs together...

Oh wow, I’m horny. Where did that come from? What’ve I been doing that’s turned me on so much? I’m just standing here, with... this person, this cute guy a couple of feet in front of me, and we’re... we’re...

I forget.

It makes me wet when I forget.

I don’t know where that thought came from, but it feels accurate. I’m wet as fuck right now. My hand slips down the front of my shorts, burrowing into my knickers and finding my soaking slit. Fuck, that feels good.

Wait... why am I masturbating?

I don’t know how I got here, why I’m doing this. I glance around dimly, trying to figure out if I recognise where I am. It looks familiar, but I’m not sure...

Not sure... what I was thinking about. I lose my train of thought. I forgot. It makes me wet when I forget.

Oh God, yes, I am wet. And wanking. I’m standing here with my hand in my pants, wanking, fully dressed, in the middle of a room. Is that normal? Is that the kind of person I am?

Wait, who am I, again...?

“Here, let me help you with those,” says... someone. I watch absently, my fingers never faltering in their frenetic stroking, as this person standing in front of me takes hold of my shorts and yanks them down to my ankles, taking my underwear with them.

I’m naked from the waist down now. How did that happen...?

There’s a sofa nearby. I plonk my bare arse down on the soft cushion, shuffling backwards, my hand never moving from my pulsating pussy. I try to spread my legs apart, but there’s something tangling my ankles together. Denim shorts. Mine? Was I wearing those? I dunno. Whatever, they’re in the way. I kick them off impatiently and sprawl back, thighs flung apart, fingering myself in earnest.

“Our little sorcerers seem happy with their new home,” a voice from the nearby armchair muses. “We should get more, actually. I know I said I wanted to start small, but I’m already thinking they should have some more friends to play with.”

Who is that? I don’t know who that is. For that matter, who am I...? And why don’t I care more about the answer? I’m really not bothered that I’ve forgotten my name. And I’m not bothered that I’m not bothered. It’s hot that I forgot. Forgetting makes me wet.

“Ooh, maybe neon tetras! Those are fucking cool, man. Silvery blue, with a big red stripe that looks kinda like rust. Yeah, let’s get a few of those, they tend to come in little groups.”

I wish he’d stop going on about... whatever he’s going on about. Can’t remember. He’s distracting me. Makes it so much harder to... harder to... think of whatever I’m trying to think of. It’d be so much easier to think if... if... if something wasn’t happening... that’s stopping me from... from...

Fuck, my brain’s cooked. What’s even happening right now? I feel like someone’s stuck a power washer in my ear and turned it up to full blast.

Wait, when did I start playing with myself? How long have I been doing it? Feels like forever. I can’t remember anything. Just sitting here, gawping down at my exposed, glistening pussy as I rub myself silly.

Maybe that’s all I’ve ever done. Maybe that’s all I am. Maybe the last three seconds are all there’s ever been, just a few moments of touching and grunting and throbbing pleasure.

I don’t think so, though. I feel like I’m forgetting something, but I can’t put my finger on what, because my finger’s on my clit instead. That’s much more important, much more urgent than trying to remember, or even to figure out if there’s anything to remember at all.

I can’t shake that vague sense of forgetfulness, though. It doesn’t make me uneasy or anxious. It makes me wet. Forgetting makes me wet.

Ooh. I like that thought. Forgetting makes me wet. And I’m so wet right now, I must’ve forgotten a lot. Maybe everything.

Except masturbating. And I feel like I can only remember that because I’m watching myself doing it. If I look away from my deft, determined digits slipping in and out of my slick, salivating snatch, I’ll forget to keep doing it. And it makes me wet to forget, so maybe I should... but no, I don’t want the pleasure to stop. It feels so good. I feel so fucking good right now. I can’t remember not feeling this good. I’ve always felt this good. I want to always feel this good. And as long as I concentrate on my cunt, and keep on teasing it the way I always have, I always will feel this good.

I’m proud I figured that out.

Wait - what did I figure out?

I feel like I just realised something really crucial, but it’s floated away like gossamer on the breeze. It’s evaporated like mist. It’s trickled away like rain down a drain. It’s burst like a bubble. I pop my lips automatically, continuously, like a kind of stim, as I stare down at my naked lower half, trying to piece together what’s happening.

Oh - I seem to be having a wank. It feels wonderful. I can’t recall if I’ve cum yet, but I’m definitely on the edge. There’s no hurry, though. I’m not feeling any sense of urgency. I’m loving this. I can crest on these waves of pleasure forever.

A chuckle from nearby. I’m not alone. That doesn’t concern me. I’ll probably forget again in a moment.

“Talking to myself here. Silly Rainy-brain, can’t function with a three-second memory, can you? All you can do is edge yourself on the sofa. Oh no, how terrible for you.” The speaker stands up. “OK, I’m gonna go get dinner started. You just keep living your happy little smooth-brained goldfish life, love.”

He walks away. I’m alone. I’ve always been alone. I’ve always been sitting here, caressing my cunt, clear of thought, at a permanent peak of pure euphoria.

OK, I’m just gonna keep on flicking the bean, and see if anything comes back to me (hehe, cums back to me), or if I forget anything else. I hope so. I dunno if there’s anything more to forget - but if I remember anything at all, it’s that it makes me wet when I forget.