Luhan pulls the blanket over his head, shivering in the slight chill of the morning air, pressing his face deeper into the pillow beneath him.  He dreams of ice, of frozen fingertips, of chattering lips, his mind slowly dimming. He dreams of the sun reflecting on the frost, glaring into his eyes mercilessly. He dreams of his saviour, scooping him up gently and bringing him back to a boat to take care of him, dressing him with warm clothes, wrapping him up in a thick blanket and tucking him in on a soft bed. He dreams-

Wait. That wasn’t a dream, none of it was. Luhan abruptly sits up, now fully awake, his eyes blinking rapidly as he absorbs every detail of his surroundings. He was startled to find himself in a familiar bed, the same blue covers, a simple deep navy, belonging to the one he had long yearned for. The same blanket, with little white swirls on a sky blue background that they used to hide under, wrapping themselves under its warmth as they looked at the blue ocean, or sometimes the twinkling stars in the dark skies above. The same azure pillow that smelled of him. Not only was the bed familiar, but the cabin itself brought back memories, and he had to choke back the sob that was threatening to escape from his throat. The small round window that showed an endless blue sea, our beautiful kingdom, he thought. The fishing rods of various sizes hanging on the walls, vibrant charms of various designs hooked onto a small wooden board. A small duffle bag, folded clothes neatly stacked inside.

“Sehun,” he whispers, his throat still parched from his ordeal. Despite the discomfort, there was a spark in him, and it gave him the energy to get out of bed. “Sehun?” Luhan called out louder this time, but there was still no response. Sliding off the think blanket covering him, Luhan swings his legs off of the bed, standing up slowly on his unstable legs. He noticed that he was fully dressed, in Sehun’s spare clothes he assumed, carefully padding across the gently swaying boat. He slowly made his way up to the deck, squinting at the afternoon sun, high up in the sky. He lifts his hand up to his face, shielding his sensitive eyes, and he was thankful for the long sleeves that covered him, for even with them he felt a prickling heat from the sun’s rays. But despite the warmth, he couldn’t hold back the shiver that trembled through him, Sehun’s too-big clothes hanging off of his dainty frame. “Sehun?” repeated Luhan, his voice becoming louder and more desperate. He knew that the other had to be close, but where? There wasn’t exactly a lot of places to hide on such a small boat.

“How do you know my name?” Luhan spun around, only to be met with the sharp blade of a dagger to his throat, the gems on the hilt sparkling under the sunlight, a beautiful sight in contrast to the danger that he was currently faced with. Sehun roughly grabbed the smaller’s arms, twisting it behind Luhan’s body as he pushed him against the cabin wall.

“Se-” Luhan’s cry echoed in the silence of their remote location as Sehun pushed him harder against the wall, the pain ricocheting in his bones.

“How. Do. You. Know. My. Name.” Sehun repeated himself, emphasizing each word with added pressure on the dagger against the stranger’s pale neck, but still not enough to draw blood. Although he was never one for violence, Sehun’s actions and gruff voice sent the message loud and clear to Luhan, who shivered more rigorously, his legs giving up. With a soft thump, he fell onto the wooden floor, Sehun releasing his grip on the stranger who began sobbing uncontrollably, small hiccups shaking his frame.

“So you don’t remember me this year either?” asks Luhan, fresh tears pooling at the edge of his droopy eyes, his light blue irises twinkling. His voice sounded so heartbroken, as if he had expected it, but continued hoping for a different fate anyway. “You really don’t remember?” he pressed on, reaching for the hem of Sehun’s shirt. Sehun quickly stepped back, keeping his dagger in between himself and Luhan. He crinkles his eyebrows, confused by the sudden tugging sensation in his chest that told him to drop the dagger, to go and comfort the beautiful stranger. He quickly pushes the strange thought away, shaking his head.

‘Don’t fall into this… this thing’s trap,’ he berated himself.

“Of course not.” Luhan visibly flinched, curling up into himself as Sehun continued to speak. “Why would I remember you if I have never met you before?” His tone was sharp, probably sharper than necessary, but he ignored the guilt that was gnawing at him as the man in front of him continued to shake his head in denial, pulling softly at his almost-white locks.

“But you have met me before,” insists Luhan, stopping his crying long enough to turn to Sehun with a determined look that juxtaposed his behaviour just moments before. “We’ve met so many times, but it always ends this way…” he mumbles as an afterthought, although the other manages to catch it, since even the waves are quiet today.

“What are you talking about?” asks Sehun, not that he’s curious or anything, but how can that be? “I have no memories of ever meeting you. I don’t even know your name!” he exclaimed, unbelieving of the incredulous story that the stranger was trying to weave together.

“Luhan.” He whispers it, and Sehun has to strain his ears to catch it this time,

“Luhan?” As much as he hated to admit it, the word rolled of off his tongue like it was familiar to him, like he had often spoken it.

“That’s my name. I am Luhan, the second prince of Měirényú,” reiterated the smaller, clearly stating his status like it was drilled into him.

It was as if he had just remembered his duties, gracefully rising up to his feet, brushing the clothes on his person. “I have the honourable task of being the liaison between the humans and the merpeople of Měirényú.” He reaches out his right hand, making eye contact with Sehun. Confused, Sehun responds by reaching out to grasp the proffered hand in a brief handshake, eyebrows raised at the other’s constant change in demeanour.

“It sure is nice to meet you, second prince of Měirényú, Luhan,” replies Sehun, his sentence coming out more like a question instead of statement. But if Luhan noticed, he paid it no heed, nodding his head curtly.

“Please do excuse my earlier… outburst. I had hoped- either way, it no longer matters,” he finishes with a sigh. “You’re here for the prize catch, am I right?” Sehun nods, motioning to the nets hanging by the side of the boat.

“That’s the only reason I make this journey every year.” Luhan’s face looks crestfallen at the statement, but it was quickly replaced by another neutral expression as he nodded in understanding.

“That’s the only thing they ever come for,” he mutters under his breath. He feigns innocence when Sehun his head to the side, wondering if he had heard right.

“Well, it’ll be another five days before New Year, so I shall be staying as a guest on this boat until then,” announces Luhan, heading back down to the cabin, His feet shuffle across the floor, and Sehun follows behind quietly.

“Do I have a say in the matter?” he finally says when Luhan plops back down onto the bed, burying himself in the blanket.

“No,” was the muffled reply. “For you to obtain the prize catch, you need me. I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” Sehun raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, not entirely convinced. But he let it slip anyway. ’Like he said, it’ll be another five days. I’m going to need some company, even if it’s a crazy nut like him,’ he reasoned, shrugging before leaving Luhan to himself.

As the evening sun disappeared beneath the horizon, Sehun wonders what he has got himself involved in. Was it like this every year? Or was someone out to sabotage him? The questions hung heavy in his mind, the confusion still clouding his better judgement. For instance, why didn’t I just leave Luhan on that ice? And why did I not drop him off again once he started spouting nonsense? With too many questions in his head, Sehun decided that it would be best to sleep it off, with the promise of Luhan’s so-called explanation that was going to be given the next day.

‘I hope that whatever this is, it won’t ruin my chances of the prize catch this year…’