A Pact

Beneath the waves, an ancient ritual unfolds. A lone clownfish drifts closer to an anemone, its body weaves through the currents like a promise to be kept. It does not rush. It does not force. It moves with patience and affection—brushing gently against the anemone’s stinging arms, testing, learning, and becoming. They hold a silent pact between them. A pact to build a home and never let it go.

Partners In Crime

Anemone offers shelter, a roof to snuck their heads under, a home where no predator dares follow. In return, the clownfish becomes a bodyguard with watchful eyes and a tireless service—fighting off invaders, clearing away anemone’s parasites, and offering scraps of food. Biologists call it symbiosis; they call it home. Together, they do more than just surviving. They are partners in an ancient rhythm, bound by a law older than the sea itself: to give, to take, to belong.

The World Gets Less Lonely

In a world where all others would perish, the clownfish finds refuge. The anemone’s tentacles, venom to the many, are a cradle to the clownfish.

To an outsider, this place seems cruel—a home built on the edge of a cliff. And yet, they embrace each other, and the world gets less lonely. They both find a purpose: to keep the home alive.

Always Stay By Me

A clownfish is born weightless, drifting in the vast, endless blue. It has no power. For days, it knows nothing but the dark waves, carried by currents that do not care if it lives or dies. But then its moment comes—time to pull itself toward the reef. The tiny larvae descend, no larger than a grain of sand, seeking the only sanctuary it will ever know. It’s now or never. If it does not find an anemone—if it does not learn to embrace its sting—it will fade into the sea where it came from, nameless and forgotten.

Happily Ever After

But if it does, the story gets a happy ending. If it does, the clownfish is no longer a drifting wanderer. It is home. 

This is the story of finding home. A strange home. A home that only they would understand.