“This is hard,” Seungwan grumbled, throwing another pebble into the stream with all the strength her skinny seven-year-old arm could muster. It splashed into the watery depths, barely impacting its swirling currents.

“It’s not hard,” her friend Sooyoung insisted, sounding impatient. “You’re just doing it the wrong way. Throw it gently.”

Sooyoung drew her arm back and sent her pebble skipping merrily across the stream’s surface. Seungwan could only stare. She made it look so easy.

She tossed another pebble into the stream, keeping her throw light, but watched as the pebble sunk into the stream with a sad plop.

“You’re wrong,” she decided.

Sooyoung rolled her eyes. “That’s too gentle.”

“Whatever,” she said sulkily, crossing her arms. “Skipping stones looks stupid, anyway.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t do it,” Sooyoung taunted, before standing up and dusting bits of twig off her bottom. “We’ve been here for hours. I’m gonna go back inside your house. The TV calls.”

“You mean your embarrassing crush on my sister calls.”

Sooyoung ignored her, turning on her heel and walking away with a jaunty wave. “Bye! Come join us when you’ve stopped being grumpy!”

Once her footsteps faded, Seungwan turned back to the stream, glaring at it defiantly. She hurled another pebble at it,  but ended up missing the stream completely and hitting the opposite bank.

Groaning, she put her head in her hands. The stream gurgled, as if it were laughing at her.

“Shut up,” she said, childishly.

She raised her head, picking up another pebble, but stopped abruptly when she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her curiously from the water.

Dropping the pebble, Seungwan scrambled forward on her hands and knees, rubbing her eyes, but there was no sight of anyone in the stream, and she wondered if she had imagined it. She leant forward, squinting—only to lose her balance completely and fall into the water with a shriek.

She panicked, flailing her arms in an attempt to swim to the surface. Unfortunately, she had never actually learned how to swim; her efforts only succeeded in drawing her away from the bank she was trying to swim towards. She splashed fruitlessly, gasping for air, but somehow managed to swallow a sizeable amount of water instead.

Suddenly, what felt like a cool stream of water curled around her torso, and she was deposited on dry land, choking and spluttering. She collapsed on the ground, chest heaving, the oxygen deprivation making her head throb so hard she forgot to question the strange occurrence that had saved her from a watery demise.

Not wanting to be near water any longer, she turned tail and ran for the safety of her home, not giving the stream a second glance, and missing the pair of eyes watching her from the water.

—

“I told you, I’m not going back there,” Seungwan said stubbornly.

“It’s been a whole year since we’ve gone,” Sooyoung protested.”I want to play by the stream again.”

“A whole year since I nearly drowned.”

“But did you die?” Sooyoung countered, putting her hands on her hips.

(Seungwan recalled when she had stumbled into her house, miserable and dripping wet, and how Sooyoung had yelled at her for five minutes straight about not being careful, before hugging her fiercely, looking uncharacteristically close to tears herself. She decided to let the jibe slide.)

“Don’t you want to see Joohyun unnie?” she said weakly, but Sooyoung wagged a finger at her.

"Nice try, I know she’s at school.”

She groaned. Sooyoung put a hand on her shoulder and practically marched her to the stream that wound through the trees behind her house. “I’m doing this for your own good. You can’t be scared of water your whole life.”

Seungwan just groaned again. Sooyoung continued, “And I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll pull you out if you fall in again. Unlike you, I actually know how to swim.”

—

The sight of the rippling stream terrified Seungwan, but Sooyoung kept true to her word. She made Seungwan sit a good five metres from the edge of the bank, while she herself sat with her back to the stream, as if acting as a shield between Seungwan and the treacherous waters.

Gradually, Seungwan forgot about the danger nearby, too busy laughing at Sooyoung and whatever she was trying to do with the branches she was holding. Once in a while, however, she would glance at the water, shuddering. She could stand being near the water if Sooyoung was with her, but she would never even remotely touch any body of water again.

—

“Wanna see if we can change the colour of the water?”

Sooyoung’s hand hovered over the stream, a mischievous glint in her eye. In her hand was a small glass bottle; a closer look at the label told Seungwan there was one less bottle of food colouring in her kitchen.

“What? No.”

“C’mon, it would be like revenge for when it nearly killed you.”

“That’s stupid,” Seungwan scoffed. “You think you can change the colour of the stream with just one bottle?”

“No…” Sooyoung trailed off, before grinning at her and fishing three more bottles out from her pockets. “But maybe with four.”

There were four less bottles of food colouring in her kitchen.

“No.” Seungwan might nearly have drowned, but she wasn’t childish enough to fault the stream for it. She had no one to blame but herself for being too careless. That, and her overactive imagination for seeing someone in the water that wasn’t there.

“You’re no fun.” Sooyoung pouted.

“The stream’s pretty. Don’t ruin it.”

Her friend put the bottles back into her pockets petulantly, and Seungwan cast a sidelong glance at the stream. She couldn’t imagine tainting the water with something that wasn’t even healthy for humans.

The stream burbled as if in appreciation, specks of sunlight reflecting off its rippling crests, twinkling at her.

—

Ten-year-old Seungwan’s worn sneakers thudded against the pavement as she ran for her life.

“I didn’t know nerds knew how to run!” came the mocking voice from behind her.

Seungwan just ran faster, fuelled by fear and adrenaline, the school bullies following close behind. She nearly tripped over the steps to her house, digging in her pockets for her keys, but stopped in dismay when she realised she forgot to bring them.

“What’s the matter? Forgot your keys?”

Slowly, she turned to look at her three biggest nightmares, trying desperately to think of a way out. Her parents were at the grocery store. Joohyun was still at school. Sooyoung was stuck in detention for socking one of said nightmares in the jaw.

“Go away,” she said, with more bravado than she felt, backing up until she hit her front door with a thud.

The bullies continued advancing, devilish grins on their faces. Gulping, she turned and ran into the woods behind her house, hoping to lose them in the trees. Upon reaching a familiar stream, she slowed to a stop, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. She allowed herself a sigh of relief. It looked like her plan had worked.

“Tired already?”

Seungwan whipped around in alarm, before backing away slowly, her terrified gaze darting between the bullies and the stream.

One of them noticed, and he sneered at her. “What a nice river. Maybe we’ll throw you in it.”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she shot back.

“You humiliated me in class today.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t know the answer to that question! The teacher asked me and I just answered!”

To her horror, she tripped on a rock, landing painfully on her bottom on the grassy bank of the stream, amidst cackles from the boys standing over her.

“You think you’re so smart but you can’t even walk right!”

She scrabbled backwards on her hands while they took slow steps towards her, relishing in her apprehension. All of a sudden, her back hit something unyielding and she realised she was pressed against a large rock, and had run out of space. She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe this time the bruises wouldn’t be too bad…

“What the—”

She heard a distinct splashing noise, and opened her eyes hopefully. Maybe one of them had tripped and fallen into the stream?

Inexplicably, all three boys were standing exactly where she had last seen them, but they were drenched to the bone. The one who had mocked her when she had fallen—the tallest one, their leader—was opening and closing his mouth in wide-eyed shock, looking remarkably like a goldfish.

Seungwan stared, then let out a snort of laughter, hastily suppressing it with a cough.

He looked furious, and took another menacing step towards her, but stopped short with a pained grunt as a pebble seemed to fly from nowhere, striking him on the head.

His friend grabbed a fistful of his shirt, tugging him away from Seungwan. “C’mon, let’s just go. This place is creepy.”

He shook him off impatiently, but grunted again as another pebble hit him on his behind. Seungwan’s sharp eyes had caught the pebble flying up from the stream. Some rational part of her mind realised that that didn’t make any sense, but she was too focused on the bullies to worry about the absurdity of what was happening.

She watched, mouth half-open, as the stream exploded, pebbles raining down on the boys who had been terrorising her, but somehow leaving her untouched.

“Let’s go!”

“What about her?”

“She can stay with the ghosts! I don’t care!”

Seungwan blinked as they sprinted away without giving her a second glance, then turned to stare at the stream in disbelief, only to see a head duck swiftly under the water.

Blinking furiously, she rubbed her eyes, certain she hadn’t been imagining things. She waited, but whoever it was didn’t resurface.

“Hello?” she called out hesitantly.

She started to doubt herself. Even Sooyoung couldn’t hold her breath for that long.

“I know you’re there,” she said, with less certainty in her voice.

There was no response. Frustrated, she inched towards the stream, curiosity overwhelming her fear. She was sure she had seen something.

“I’m not scared of water, I’m not scared of water,” she chanted to herself. Grasping clumps of grass to anchor herself, she dipped her head underwater quickly, trying to see if there was someone in the stream. Her heart hammered in her chest as she remembered the last time she had been underwater, and she jerked up, breathing hard.

She heard Sooyoung’s voice in her head. There. See? It’s not that scary.

Slowly, she lowered her head into the water again, keeping her eyes open. To her disappointment, the only other things in the water besides her head were small fish darting to and fro, and pieces of plants drifting lazily by. She turned her head, only to be greeted by a clump of slimy weed hitting her in the face. Letting out a strangled yelp, she bolted into an upright position again, clawing the weed on her face away in disgust.

All of a sudden, she heard the distant tinkling of laughter, and she whipped her head around to see a girl her age in the water, giggling at her with a smile that made her eyes disappear.

Seungwan gasped audibly, her hands flying to , and the girl’s eyes widened. Before Seungwan could do anything, she dove back into the water.

“Wait! Come back!”

The surface of the stream was undisturbed, as if there had never been anyone there.

“Don’t be afraid. I just want to say hi,” Seungwan tried, still crouched on her hands and knees, nearly bursting with questions. Had the girl been there this whole time? Had she been the one throwing pebbles at the boys who had been bullying her?

Hesitantly, the girl resurfaced, looking at Seungwan warily.

Seungwan eyed her curiously in return. The girl’s skin was fair, with a hint of a strange bluish-green tint around her eyes and shoulders. Even stranger were the ears sticking out from her long, dark tresses of hair that were mostly rounded but had pointed tips, looking almost elfin in nature. She took in these unusual features, finally coming to rest on a pair of piercing cat-like eyes, narrowed at her in suspicion.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Why would I hurt you?” Seungwan said, confused.

“Everyone says humans are evil.”

Her confusion only grew. “You say that like you’re not human.”

This only made the girl stare at her with even more distrust. Seungwan attempted to change the topic.

“Were you the one who threw the pebbles at those boys?”

The girl shrugged. The sunlight glanced off her shoulders, wet from being submerged in the stream, and Seungwan’s eyes were drawn again to that strange bluish-green tint on her bare shoulders. On closer inspection, she realised they were intricate, swirling patterns of turquoise, curling around the girl’s shoulders and dipping down into skin hidden by the water.

She was both a little jealous and a little in awe. Her mother would never let her get a tattoo at that age.

Noticing her gaze, the girl sank further into the stream, only stopping when the water was lapping at her chin. Her eyes were still wary.

“Thank you,” Seungwan said softly. “They were going to beat me up.”

The girl nodded slowly. “You did something for me a while back, too. I was returning the favour.”

“What did I do?”

The girl started to speak, but stopped abruptly, looking behind her and tensing.

“What is it?” asked Seungwan, alarmed, turning to look behind her, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. When she turned around again, the girl had vanished.

She was left alone, blinking and feeling dazed, wondering if she had imagined the whole thing.

“Seungwan! I didn’t think I’d find you here.” She jumped, startled, and turned to face a worried-looking Sooyoung. “They chased after you again when school ended, didn’t they?”

“Um...yeah.” Her eyes slid back to the stream, searching for any sign of the girl she had been talking to.

Sooyoung took her by the shoulders, giving her a quick once-over. “I don’t see any bruises. Did you outrun them?”

“Something like that,” she said, still dazed.

“What’s up with you?” Sooyoung demanded. “You’re acting like my grandmother.”

Seungwan finally looked back at her, opening to tell her about the strange girl in the water. But then she hesitated, thinking of the girl’s wariness, her aversion to humans, and how she’d almost seemed scared of her. She closed .

“All that running fried my brain, I think.”

Sooyoung bought it, frowning at her and grabbing her hand. “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”

Seungwan followed her, casting one last look at the place the girl had been only minutes ago.

—

The next day, Seungwan went back to the stream alone, curious to see whether the strange girl with the strange markings on her body would still be there, but was greeted with a sight that made her recoil in disgust: the grassy bank she and Sooyoung usually played on was littered with empty cans of soft drink and the greasy remains of fast food. The stream had fared no better, if not worse; its surface was marred by plastic bottles, crinkled plastic bags, and even more empty cans.

With a start, she realised there were fish flopping weakly on the grass just by the stream, and she rushed to them, scooping each one up gently and placing them back into the water. Her mind was reeling. She and Sooyoung had been here only yesterday afternoon; who would litter this much in the space of a day? Were they responsible for the dying fish too?

She ran back to her house, returning with a large garbage bag, and began the tedious task of picking up the litter. Aside from the occasional wince as she handled the leftover food, she was able to restore the grassy bank to (more or less) its former state. The rain would wash what she couldn’t pick up away, she reasoned. She heaved the garbage bag over her shoulder, ready to start work on the stream, when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and whirled around.

A familiar pair of cat-like eyes was watching her from the stream.

Seungwan exhaled in relief, giving her a small wave. “Hi.”

There was no response from the girl to indicate that she had heard her, so Seungwan shrugged and started picking things out of the water, sighing under her breath in disapproval.

“Were you here when this happened?” she asked after a while.

The girl nodded slowly.

“Did they throw things into the water while you were in it?”

Another nod.

“I’m sorry,” she offered. “People can be gross. Do you want to come out of the water while I take everything out?”

The girl shook her head, but swam over to where she was crouched, starting to help her put things in her now-bulging garbage bag.

“Thanks,” Seungwan said gratefully. “This stream is near my house, so it kind of feels like my spot, you know? I come here with my friend Sooyoung and sometimes my older sister and my parents a lot. Sometimes people do stuff like this, but we always try to clean it up.”

As her silent companion lifted her arm to place something into the ever-growing garbage bag, Seungwan saw a line of crimson running raggedly down her forearm, standing out starkly against pale skin.

“Wait, you’re bleeding!”

Instinctively, Seungwan reached out for her arm, eyebrows drawn together in concern, but the other girl drew it back sharply, speaking for the first time since Seungwan had arrived. “No, I’m not.”

“But I just saw—” she protested, then thought better of it, dumping the garbage bag to one side and hurrying back to her house before the girl could say anything. She returned, clutching a box of assorted bandages and gauze in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic in the other, relieved to see the girl where she had left her.

“Give me your hand,” Seungwan said, slightly breathless from running.

The girl stared at her for a moment, before hesitantly extending her arm, rising slightly from the water as she did so. With some embarrassment, Seungwan noticed that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Thankfully, the girl’s hair was long enough to cover her bare chest.

“Why are you ?”

The girl only looked at her strangely. “Why aren’t you?”

Seungwan could think of nothing to say in response, and decided to focus on tending to the girl’s wound. As gently as she could, she proceeded to wipe up the blood that had trickled messily down her arm.

“This might sting a little,” she warned softly, pouring antiseptic onto a wad of gauze, and dabbing it onto the open wound. The girl flinched, but made no move to retract her arm, continuing to watch Seungwan as she worked.

She studied the cut she had just finished cleaning, realising it was smaller than she had originally thought. It was an ugly, jagged wound shaped strangely like a semicircle. As Seungwan watched, blood pooled around the cut again, and she shook her head, pressing a clean wad of gauze to it.

“Where did you get this? It looks weird.”

The girl didn’t reply, and Seungwan suppressed a sigh, peeling the adhesive from one of the larger waterproof bandages, and smoothing it onto her arm.

“There,” she said, satisfied. “It’s waterproof, so it won’t come off when you swim.”

She could already see a vague, dark stain blooming behind the bandage. She frowned. Maybe the cut was deeper than she thought. Oh, well—she would just change the bandage again when she needed to.

She stood up, grabbing the garbage bag again, almost missing the girl’s quiet thank you.

“You’re welcome.” She grinned. “My name is Seungwan. What’s yours?”

“Seulgi,” the girl replied, after a pause.

“It’s nice to meet you, Seulgi.” Seungwan smiled brightly again, hoping to put her at ease, and it seemed to work, because Seulgi gave her a small, hesitant smile in return.

After that, they worked together in silence, Seungwan picking up the litter in the stream that she could reach from standing on the bank, and Seulgi retrieving whatever was too far for her to reach. They would take breaks only when Seungwan felt she needed to change Seulgi’s bandage, which was often, because the wound for some reason refused to stop bleeding. Seungwan was just dumping the last plastic bottle in the garbage bag when she noticed a small turtle lying upturned among the wildflowers dotting the bank of the stream.

“You poor thing,” she said sympathetically, carefully picking it up and righting it. She moved to put it back in the water, but noticed blood staining her hands. A tab from one of the aluminium cans had gotten wedged in the turtle’s soft underbelly. She knew the culprits behind the litter must have been responsible, because the tab was curved, as if someone had bent it. It made her shiver to think that someone could have been that cruel.

“Seulgi,” she called. The other girl swam towards her, and Seungwan showed her the turtle.

“What do I do? Do I pull it out? Should I bring it to a vet?” she asked anxiously.

Seulgi looked at the wound, and Seungwan saw worry flit across her face. She shook her head. “Pass her to me.”

“How can you tell it’s a her?” Seungwan muttered, but she placed the turtle in Seulgi’s hands anyway, careful not to jostle the aluminium tab.

Seulgi the turtle’s shell gently with one hand as she cradled it—or her, Seungwan supposed—in the other, murmuring comfortingly in a soft voice. She whispered something under her breath, and a small fountain of water rose to gently envelop the wound, pulling the tab out in a way that looked painless.

Then, Seulgi held out her hand, and the tab dropped from the small waterspout, falling into her palm. She smiled, lowering the turtle into the water, and Seungwan swore she saw the turtle actually nuzzle Seulgi’s free hand before swimming off placidly.

Her strange new friend—if she could even call her that—watched the turtle go, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

She hadn’t realised was hanging open until Seulgi turned to look at her, eyes cautious again.

“Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Seungwan nodded vigorously. “Yup. Yes. Of course.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Seungwan still trying to digest what she had seen and Seulgi watching her warily, before Seungwan shook her head. “You know what? Never mind.”

She decided to take the opportunity to change Seulgi’s bandage again, and motioned for Seulgi to come closer, starting to peel off her bandage, before stopping.

“Seulgi. It stopped bleeding!”

Seungwan’s face lit up with a relieved smile, and she looked up to see Seulgi nodding, looking unsurprised. “We found the problem and fixed it.”

“What do you mean? What problem?”

Seulgi pointed to the turtle, and then to her cut. At Seungwan’s furrowed eyebrows, she explained, “When the stream gets hurt, I get hurt.”

Seungwan stared at her uncomprehendingly, and Seulgi shook her head. “It’s not important.”

Puzzled, Seungwan bent down to pick up the garbage bag, then stood upright again. It was  slowly dawning on her that the jagged cut shaped like a distorted semicircle on Seulgi’s arm looked uncannily like the bent metal tab she had seen protruding from the turtle.

Her gaze fell on the strange turquoise markings tracing Seulgi’s bare shoulders, and the ones around her eyes, and her strange unclothed state. She thought about what Seulgi had just done with the water, and when Seulgi had implied she was something other than human. Everyone says humans are evil.

“Seulgi,” Seungwan said slowly, looking at her with wide eyes, “are you a fairy?”

Seulgi looked at her like she had just told a bad joke. “What?”

Seungwan shrugged sheepishly. It was the only thing that made sense at that point.

“Are you an elf?”

“What?”

“You have pointy ears!” Seungwan squinted at said ears, and Seulgi, visibly self-conscious, put her hands over them.

“They’re not that pointy.”

Frustrated, Seungwan continued to study her as if she were a challenging maths problem she hadn’t been able to crack on the first try.

Remembering how Seulgi had refused to get out of the water earlier, she blurted, “You’re a mermaid!”

“I am not.” Seulgi looked affronted. “Mermaids have tails! I’m a naiad!”

“Aha!” Seungwan pointed a finger at her, then frowned. “What’s a nay-ad?”

Seulgi’s reply was to duck swiftly under the water, cheeks pink, looking furious with herself.

“No, wait!” Seungwan lunged forward, reaching out for her, but she was too slow. She sighed, looking at the place where Seulgi had been moments ago.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed,” she whispered guiltily to the stream, hoping Seulgi could hear somehow.

There was no response except for the forlorn gurgle of the stream.

—

Seungwan went back to the stream every day after that, a contrite apology always ready on the tip of her tongue, but there was no sign of Seulgi, even when she tried calling her name. Several times, after long hours of waiting, she had even fallen asleep beside the stream, sometimes waking up to a perplexed Sooyoung and a what happened to your water phobia?, and sometimes waking up to an unsettling feeling prickling along the back of her neck, as though she were being watched.

Eventually, convinced she had messed up past the point of Seulgi’s forgiveness, she started visiting the stream less often, only going when Sooyoung wanted to play by the stream, or to check for any litter tainting the area. When the stream gets hurt, I get hurt.

Sooyoung started to pick up on her downcast mood every time they played by the stream, and attributed it to her “water phobia”. Subsequently, she suggested they hang out somewhere else if the water really bothered Seungwan that much, and Seungwan readily agreed, not wanting to be constantly reminded of her mistake.

A few months after she turned eleven, however, she found herself sitting cross-legged in front of the stream for the first time in a while, idly playing with one of the wildflowers, staring at the spot where she had last seen Seulgi.

“I’m sorry,” she said, for what seemed like the thousandth time. “I didn’t tell anyone, and I would never tell anyone.”

A butterfly fluttered onto her finger briefly, and she smiled at it, before continuing, “Naiad — that means water nymph, right? I looked it up. You’re the naiad of this stream, and that’s why things that affect the stream also affect you?”

There was no response, but Seungwan hadn’t expected anything else. She lay on her side, propping herself up by her elbow, still staring at the stream, as if by concentrating hard enough she could make Seulgi appear. “When I was seven, I fell into this stream and nearly drowned, but something lifted me out of the water and saved me. That was you, wasn’t it? With your—” she frowned, trying to think of a better word but failing “—your water powers?”

Water powers, she scoffed to herself. She shifted to lie on her back, gazing at the cloudless sky, and felt her eyelids drooping.

“I wish we were still friends, Seulgi,” she murmured. Had they even been friends? It was doubtful. “You were nice to talk to.”

She drifted off to sleep amidst the comforting noises of flowing water and chirping birds.

—

There was something cold and wet on her nose.

Seungwan swatted vaguely at the sensation, still half-asleep, mumbling incoherently. She cracked open an eye to see the last person she expected, elbows propped up on the bank, head resting on her forearms. Her index finger was pointed right at Seungwan’s face, directing a spout of water from the stream to the tip of her nose, a mischievous light in her eyes.

Her eyes flew open. “Seulgi,” she breathed.

“Sorry,” Seulgi said, before Seungwan could say anything else, “about running away. I got scared. I’ve heard about horrible things happening to other nymphs who didn’t keep their secrets, and I thought that would happen to me too.”

At Seungwan’s vigorous head shake, Seulgi hurried to continue, “But you’re not like that. At all. I’m sure now. Thanks for not telling anyone.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Seungwan said, hardly daring to believe that Seulgi was next to her and talking to her again.

Seulgi smiled, sticking out her hand. “Friends?”

“Friends,” Seungwan agreed, slipping her hand into Seulgi’s and squeezing. Seulgi’s smile grew, her eyes curving, a dimple digging into her chin, and Seungwan found herself unable to look away, the corners of her own lips lifting in response.

“I’ve always been kind of afraid of humans,” Seulgi admitted, looking down. “But after what those boys did to the stream the other day, I found it even harder to trust your kind. That’s why I freaked out when you found out my secret.”

“Wait,” Seungwan cut in, “you know who did that?”

Seulgi nodded. “The boys who were bullying you came back the next day. The forest scared them and they did all that to get back at it.”

Seungwan felt her face grow hot. “Seulgi—I’m so sorry, then it was all my fault—”

“It wasn’t, Seungwan,” Seulgi said gently, “it was theirs.”

Seulgi’s reassurance did nothing to assuage the guilt she was feeling, and it must have shown on her face, because Seulgi nudged her with her elbow and said, “If it was your fault, then it was my fault too. I was the one who chased them away and scared them.”

“Yeah, because I brought them to you,” Seungwan muttered, before something occurred to her. “Why didn’t you use your powers when they were messing up this place? You seem pretty powerful.”

Seulgi scowled in reply, nose scrunching, and Seungwan felt a strange urge to reach out and press her finger to the lines on the bridge of her nose. (She didn’t, because she didn’t want to cross boundaries and ruin the start of a wonderful, but tentative friendship.)

“They had one of those things,” Seulgi paused, frustration seeping into her tone, her fingers moving to draw an imaginary rectangle in the air, “that they were using to record what they were doing to the plants and animals.”

“Phones? Cameras?” Seungwan guessed.

“One of those things. They’re in a lot of the stories I hear about nymphs who are attacked by humans. They’re bad for us, because they let humans see what we can do, and then they come down to investigate, and it never ends well.” The corners of Seulgi’s mouth turned down.

“So you couldn’t do anything because they would’ve recorded it,” Seungwan realised. “I’m sorry.”

For what she was apologising for, she wasn’t sure—she wanted to extend sympathy to Seulgi, whose friends had gone through horrible things, and who herself had also gone through a horrible thing; she wanted to apologise for the atrocious, destructive behaviour of her species in general; a part of her also felt guilty for bringing it up and putting such a downcast expression on the water nymph’s face.

“Sorry,” she said again, and Seulgi shook her head.

“You helped me so much that day, even though you didn’t have to. Don’t apologise. You’re a good person.” She rested her chin on her hands, smiling up at Seungwan, who flushed lightly at the sincere words. “Oh, hello—what’s up?”

It took a moment for Seungwan to realise Seulgi wasn’t talking to her, but to something in the stream next to her shoulder.

“She wanted to say thank you,” Seulgi said brightly, and Seungwan finally understood when Seulgi lifted a familiar turtle out of the water, placing her in front of Seungwan.

Unable to stop herself, she cooed, bringing her hand to its shell gently. “Is she okay now?”

Seulgi nodded at her, practically beaming at the turtle. “I can heal small things, so she pretty much recovered fully the day she was injured. Look, she’s trying to thank you!”

Sure enough, the turtle was nuzzling Seungwan’s knee like it had done to Seulgi’s hand all those months ago.

“You’re welcome,” Seungwan whispered.

—

“So what else can you do?”

Seungwan was sprawled lazily on her stomach, watching Seulgi as she played idly with the water, making an arc of water jump from one end of the stream to the other.

She had been visiting Seulgi and her stream nearly every day now, intrigued by the whole other world that had been a hundred metres from her backyard the entire time. Seulgi had taken it in stride, patiently answering all the questions thrown incessantly at her, at times looking surprised and a little pleased, as if no one had ever shown this much interest in her before. (Which was probably true, since Seungwan was the only human to have talked to her.)

They soon became fast friends, never seeming to run out of conversation topics, between talking about everything to do with naiads and Seungwan’s arguably more mundane life (that Seulgi listened to with great fascination anyway). Seungwan stopped visiting the stream out of curiosity and interest, and started going simply because she looked forward to talking to someone who was fast becoming a close friend.

She had made a casual throwaway remark a few days ago about not being able to visit on the day of her twelfth birthday because she would be too busy, and Seulgi had insisted that Seungwan come to visit her the night before instead, just so she could be the first one to wish her.

As a result, Seungwan had snuck out of the house in the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping, the full moon hanging in the sky serving as her only guide. She had been excited to see the stream at night for the first time, and was not disappointed; her breath caught at the sight of the moon’s silvery glow glimmering off its rippling surface and off the bare shoulders of her friend, waiting for her in the water as always, with a delighted smile that only widened as she approached.

“Lots of things,” Seulgi answered, bringing her back to the present. She looked surprised at the unexpected question.

“Show me,” Seungwan said eagerly.

At her words, heat crept into Seulgi’s cheeks, and the water nymph ran a hand through her hair, looking bashful. “Don’t expect too much, okay?”

“Why not?” she protested. “Your powers are the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Seulgi looked embarrassed, and the arc of water she had been playing with shot straight up into the sky and splattered, raining fat droplets of water over their heads.

“Oops,” Seulgi said, blushing so hard the tips of her pointy ears turned red.

Seungwan tried not to laugh, but a giggle bubbled from , and Seulgi looked at her sheepishly. “I’m still young, but you should see some of the other nymphs, they’re amazing, I swear.”

“You’re amazing,” Seungwan corrected, remembering both times her powers had saved her from danger, and Seulgi smiled so widely at her it looked like it hurt, as if it were the first time someone had ever paid her a compliment.

“Here,” Seulgi whispered, and lifted her hand, palm facing up. Seungwan watched, mesmerised, as water from the stream gathered in her palm, each new droplet fusing into the shapeless blob that was forming. Seulgi’s eyebrows drew together as she concentrated, frowning slightly at the blob, and details began to slowly etch themselves on its surface. Seungwan realised it wasn’t a blob at all, but a bundle of flowers, each petal and leaf painstakingly shaped.

“Happy birthday!” Seulgi grinned at her, eyes curving into crescents, the flowers hovering precariously above her palm.

Seungwan gaped at her. “Can—can I touch?” she said breathlessly, and Seulgi nodded.

She moved her fingers over each delicate little flower, marvelling as her finger slipped through the barrier of water and slipped back out, barely marring the surface.

“You’re amazing,” she said again, her voice hushed, as if speaking too loud would destroy Seulgi’s water sculpture.

“These are hydrangeas,” Seulgi told her, “I saw some growing by the stream the other day, and they reminded me of you.”

Touched, Seungwan didn’t think twice before throwing her arms around Seulgi, even as awkward as the position was, with her lying on her stomach on dry land and Seulgi in the water.

“Oh!” said Seulgi, startled, and what felt like a bucket of water crashed down onto Seungwan’s head, leaving her soaked. Seungwan froze for a moment before shaking her head ruefully; she really should have foreseen that coming.

“It’s okay.” Seungwan laughed, wiping her face, pulling back slightly and seeing the apologetic look on Seulgi’s face. “I should have expected that.”

Seulgi made a beckoning motion with her hand, as if siphoning the water off her body, and Seungwan was (mostly) dry again. She tightened her arms around Seulgi, still touched beyond words, and felt Seulgi’s hands awkwardly grasp at her shoulders. “Um, Seungwan, what are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you,” she responded, confused. Withdrawing from the embrace, she saw that Seulgi looked just confused as she was, if not more, and Seungwan realised that hugging might not be standard nymph convention.

“It’s something you do with people you’re close to, to express affection,” she explained.

“Oh.”

Seungwan smiled at her, and moved to hug her again, feeling arms wrap clumsily around her in return.

“This feels nice,” Seulgi said, voice muffled by her shoulder.

It was two in the morning when she finally crept back into her bed, hair still slightly damp, but the warm feeling in her chest told her it was worth it.

—

When Seungwan woke up in the morning, she found herself swinging her legs out of bed and padding over to her computer to look up “hydrangeas”. One look at image results for the flower told her that Seulgi’s water sculpture had been accurate down to the last petal; she smiled at the screen, feeling pride swelling in her chest.

Out of curiosity, she clicked on a link that led her to a webpage detailing the meanings of various flowers. She scrolled down to hydrangeas, mouth moving automatically as she read what was written there.

“Heartfelt emotions, honesty, gratitude,” she whispered to herself, and warmth pooled in her chest again. It felt like one of the best and sincerest birthday presents she’d ever been given.

—

A few months later, while looking at some pink hydrangeas sprouting blithely along the banks of the stream, Seulgi floating lazily in the water nearby, it occurred to Seungwan that Seulgi knew her birthday, but she didn’t know hers.

“Seulgi, how old are you?” she asked.

“Twelve, same as you.”

“When did you turn twelve?”

Seulgi looked thoughtful. “Um, eleven days before you did?”

Seungwan let out a disbelieving what!, only registering how loud it was when she saw Seulgi jump.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.

“It just never came up,” Seulgi said apologetically.

Seungwan pointed a finger at her, frowning and ready to tell her off, but an idea occurred to her, and she jumped up, dusting her hands on her grass-stained jeans.

“Wait there, I’m coming back,” she yelled over her shoulder, practically sprinting towards her house, leaving a bemused-looking Seulgi behind.

—

Seungwan was up to her arms in flour, eggs, and chocolate.

She chanced a look at the clock hanging above the kitchen counter, and pressed a hand to her forehead in exasperation, inadvertently smearing her skin with streaks of flour. She had intended to be gone for an hour at the most, but then her first batch of brownies hadn’t turned out to be too spectacular, and she was adamant that Seulgi deserved nothing but the best. So she had sighed, put her first batch away, rolled up her sleeves, and started again.

Sooyoung sauntered in, took one look at the state of the kitchen, and said, “It looks like a whole farm died in here.”

Grimacing, she swept the growing pile of eggshells on the kitchen table into her hand, dumping them unceremoniously. “It feels like it did. How did you get into my house?”

Sooyoung attempted what looked like a nonchalant shrug. “I’m hanging out with Joohyun unnie upstairs.”

At Seungwan’s look of surprise, Sooyoung whined, “I have to do something on the days I’m not hanging out with you. Where do you go every time you disappear from your house, anyway? I tried coming to your room and asking if you wanted to watch a movie with us, but you weren’t there.”

“I was in the woods nearby,” Seungwan said vaguely. She picked up a brownie from her successfully completed second batch and stuffed it into Sooyoung’s mouth, hoping to avoid any other questions.

“Fuh wha’?” Sooyoung said in between chomping, undeterred. “This ish sho good.”

Seungwan shrugged. “I like it there. It’s nice and quiet.”

Sooyoung gave her a strange look, and Seungwan said hastily, trying to change the topic, “So, how’s your date going?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sooyoung said a little too loudly, swallowing so abruptly Seungwan was worried she would choke.

She her heel and stalked away, clearly embarrassed, and Seungwan smiled to herself while shaking her head fondly, picking up the second batch of brownies and hurrying out the door.

—

“Seulgi,” Seungwan called, setting the baking tray down carefully. A head popped out of the water almost immediately.

“You were gone for so long,” Seulgi complained. “I fell asleep.”

Seungwan started to apologise, but stopped when Seulgi seemed to perk up, sniffing the air. “What’s that? It smells so good.”

Feeling a little proud of herself at Seulgi’s reaction, she grinned. “They’re chocolate brownies. Happy belated birthday, Seulgi.”

She picked a brownie up and offered it to Seulgi, who nibbled on the corner hesitantly, chewed, then took a bigger bite. Her eyes were wide.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she said with full, and Seungwan snorted, leaning forward and pressing her finger to Seulgi’s chin, closing .

“You’re as bad as Sooyoung.”

She realised Seulgi probably had no idea who Sooyoung was, and explained, “My friend, I mean.”

“I know, she used to come here to play with you a lot.”

Seungwan was unsurprised—she’d long since guessed that Seulgi could see and hear things that were happening around the stream even when not visibly present. “Yeah, we don’t any more because she thinks I’m scared of the water.”

“Are you?” Seulgi asked, finishing the brownie and reaching for another one.

“Kind of, yeah,” Seungwan admitted, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but Seulgi didn’t look offended. The water nymph just continued to look at her, munching happily on her brownie. “It’s only because I nearly drowned when I was seven.”

“The water isn’t scary. I can show you,” Seulgi offered.

“How?”

“I can teach you how to swim. Maybe it wouldn’t be so scary then.”

Seungwan looked at the flowing water and swallowed. Just thinking about being submerged in it was intimidating. She looked back at Seulgi, and couldn’t find it in her to say no to her hopeful smile.

Maybe the water wouldn’t be so bad if she had a water nymph by her side.

“Someday,” she said.

Seulgi brightened immediately, and nodded. “I’d like to meet Sooyoung too, someday. Even if she almost poured food colouring in my stream once.”

“Oh,” said Seungwan, sheepish. “Um. She’s not like that anymore. We were eight, I think.”

“I know, I forgave her a long time ago. She’s a good person, from everything else I’ve seen. Plus, you were there to stop her.” Seulgi looked at her like she’d single-handedly hung the moon and the stars in the sky, smiling widely, her little dimple digging into her chin.

Seungwan heart skipped a beat, and she smiled back, throat suddenly feeling oddly dry.

—

The bullies hadn’t bothered her ever since the day Seulgi had chased them away, although Seungwan still cast frosty glares their way whenever they weren’t looking, hating them for what they did to Seulgi’s stream. She would have reported them in a heartbeat, but she had no evidence except for Seulgi’s word, which no one except for her would believe.

She raised her hand a lot more often in class now, particularly delighting in answering questions her past bullies got wrong (which happened often). They would sneer at her in a mixture of humiliation and anger, but ultimately left her alone, remembering that it hadn’t ended so well for them the last time they had chased her. Spurred on by this, Seungwan started carrying herself differently, walking with her chin held high, smiling at the same people who had belittled her all those years ago.

Naturally, Sooyoung noticed the change in her demeanour, especially on the very last day of middle school when Seungwan, unprompted by the teacher, actually corrected the same boy that had tormented her when she was ten, turning to face him with a smug, victorious smirk. Her tall friend hadn’t said anything, but had ruffled her hair vigorously, giving her a one-armed hug. Sooyoung had been looking out for her since day one, but it was time she stood up for herself.

Joohyun had noticed, too. Seungwan caught her older sister looking at her with a kind of quiet pride one day after she had talked back to a particularly brash uncle who had been belittling her, asking where her newfound confidence had come from. Seungwan had only shrugged, but smiled to herself when Joohyun wasn’t looking. Being friends with a powerful water nymph had its benefits.

—

“Do you ever get lonely here, Seulgi?” she wondered, fiddling with strands of grass in her hand.

“Not really. You’re not my only friend, you know.”

“Who else do you talk to?” Seungwan asked, curious.

“Nymphs like me. My stream connects to a wider river that another naiad, Taeyeon, is in charge of, and that one’s connected to another river, and then it eventually opens up to the ocean. That’s nereid territory. Sea nymphs.”

“But there are other kinds of nymphs, right? Other than just oceans and rivers?” Seungwan remembered this from when she had to look up what a naiad was.

Seulgi nodded. “The dryad of this forest—the wood nymph—is my good friend, Yerim. She thinks you’re nice, but she’s still pretty wary, kind of like I was. Yerim takes care of the woods on your side of the stream, and another nymph named Saeron takes care of the woods on the other side.”

“Wow.” She blinked. “You have a lot of friends.”

“Yeah, but—” Seulgi’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, and Seungwan had to lean in to hear her properly “—you’re my favourite friend. My best friend.”

“Why did you whisper?” Seungwan asked, also whispering. A familiar warm glow was settling in her chest at Seulgi’s words, and she was sure there was a stupid smile on her face.

All of a sudden, an acorn seemed to fly from nowhere, knocking Seulgi on the head. The water nymph rubbed her head, pouting in the general direction of the woods.

“That’s why.”

“You’re my favourite friend too,” Seungwan whispered. She tugged on Seulgi’s hand, and deftly tied the makeshift bracelet she had been trying to braid with strands of grass on her wrist. “Here, a friendship bracelet.”

She usually wove little flowers into the friendship bracelets she made, but she recalled when she had tried to pick a flower a year or so ago and Seulgi had shot her a disappointed look, telling her not to hurt the flowers. After that, she had never touched another flower again, settling for admiring them from afar. She smiled to herself, watching the water nymph, who was gingerly the bracelet on her wrist.

“Teach me how to make one?” Seulgi asked.

“Sure, but I can just make another one for you whenever you want one.”

“No, I want to make one for you,” Seulgi insisted.

Seungwan laughed, picking up a few loose blades of grass on the ground and handing them to Seulgi. “Okay, then.”

“Thanks, Wan.” Seulgi dimpled at her, the affectionate nickname slipping out of , and leaned forward to hug her. The position had gotten no less awkward over the years, and Seungwan grunted as Seulgi’s arms slid around her neck and inadvertently yanked her downwards.

There had to be a better way she could hug her best friend.

—

After a few failed attempts, Seulgi tied her own grass bracelet onto Seungwan’s wrist, smiling in satisfaction.

“Best friends,” she announced, bumping her bracelet with Seungwan’s, ducking a second later as an acorn fell into the stream with a splash.

“Best friends,” Seungwan echoed, grinning at her. She felt something thump audibly against her head and rubbed the spot ruefully. Worth it.

—

“Close your eyes and turn around,” Seungwan said, her hands clasped behind her back, hiding Seulgi’s fifteenth birthday present.

Seulgi squeezed her eyes shut obediently, turning around so her back was facing Seungwan. “You’re killing me with this suspense,” she grumbled.

Seungwan only smiled. She had seen the necklace in a store window, looked up its meaning, and had promptly used a sizeable amount of her savings with no hesitation whatsoever, convinced that it was the perfect gift.

Carefully, she swept Seulgi’s long, dark hair aside, blushing a little as her fingers brushed the fair skin of the water nymph’s neck. She felt Seulgi shiver lightly in response, and automatically rubbed her thumb back and forth where she had touched, trying to soothe the sensation. She had the strangest urge to sweep her fingers down the length of Seulgi’s back, and see if the skin there was as soft as it looked.

“Wan…” Seulgi started, a hint of a question in her voice, and Seungwan abruptly remembered what she was supposed to be doing.

Hurriedly, she slid the fine silver chain around Seulgi’s neck and clasped it, before she could think about what just happened.

“Okay, turn around,” she said proudly, and Seulgi’s head dipped to her chest comically as she tried to see what Seungwan had put around her neck.

“Oh, right,” Seungwan muttered, and she held up a hand mirror she had brought along for this very reason. Seulgi caught sight of herself in the mirror, and her hand automatically went to the orange gemstone now resting against her chest, eyes wide.

“Wow,” she breathed, while Seungwan watched anxiously, waiting to see whether she liked it, no longer quite so confident she had gotten the perfect gift.

“Do you like it? I got the idea when the friendship bracelet I made you fell apart in the water, and you looked so disappointed I thought it would be a good idea if I gave you something more permanent, you know?” Seungwan realised she was talking more rapidly than usual, and took a deep breath before continuing, “The gemstone’s called citrine, I remember you saying you really liked the colour orange, and the gemstone’s raw because it looked pretty like that and I didn’t think you’d want a stone retouched by humans anyway—”

“It’s perfect, Wan,” Seulgi said, interrupting her. Her voice sounded strangely choked, and as she looked up at her, Seungwan noticed with some alarm that there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you so much.”

She hugged Seungwan, and Seungwan let out a squeak as she felt herself being yanked down once more, but wrapped her own arms around the water nymph, smiling and nearly tearing up herself.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered into Seulgi’s shoulder. “It reminded me of you, so I had to. I looked citrine gemstones up and they’re supposed to have a positive, cleansing energy that comes from the sun, which I know is one of your favourite things. It’s a warm, life-giving stone, and that reminded me of you too, because you’re the life of this stream.”

She could feel Seulgi’s tears wetting her blouse, and she continued quickly, trying to finish talking before she felt the urge to smack herself for being too cringeworthy.

“Andalsoyoumakemefeelwarm,” she blurted, before reddening.

“What?”

Seungwan coughed. “Nothing.” It had been an innocent enough, platonic-sounding statement between two close friends, but for reasons she couldn’t put her finger on, she couldn’t say it without blushing and feeling strange.

—

“You know, our hugs would be a lot less awkward if we were at least level with each other.”

“Our hugs aren’t awkward,” Seulgi said defensively.

“Maybe not for you.” Seungwan rolled her eyes. “I get a neck cramp every time I have to bend down when we hug.”

“Oh, right.” Seulgi giggled at her, looking apologetic. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s not your fault, you can’t leave the water anyway.”

“Yes, I can!” To prove her point, Seulgi hoisted herself up, plopping down next to Seungwan and throwing her arms around her. “There, are our hugs less awkward now?”

Seungwan in a sharp gasp, freezing, her hands hovering in the air. The air around her smelled like the wildflowers and grasses growing by the stream.

“You’re supposed to hug back,” Seulgi said pointedly, after a while.

“Seulgi,” Seungwan hissed, finally recovering from her initial shock. “You. Are. .”

“So?” Seulgi pulled back, frowning at her, and Seungwan willed her eyes to stay on the confused pinch between her eyebrows. “It’s never bothered you before.”

“Please get back in the water,” she said, her voice strained, squeezing her eyes shut. She was positive her face by now resembled a tomato.

The arms around her slowly withdrew, as did the warm body pressed against hers, leaving her slightly damp and shivering in the chilly February air. There was a splash, and Seungwan opened her eyes, exhaling in relief, to see Seulgi safely in the water, looking up at her petulantly.

“I don’t get why humans wear so many clothes, anyway,” Seulgi told her. “It’s unnecessary.”

She lifted her hand and mimed pinching the air, and Seungwan realised she was drawing out the water she had left on her clothes.

“Thanks,” she muttered gratefully, rubbing at her arms for warmth. Her blush from earlier hadn’t quite faded. She felt her skin tingle where Seulgi’s body had pressed into hers.

“Are you okay?” Seulgi asked, and Seungwan looked up to see her watching closely, brows furrowed in concern. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m still not too good at figuring out what’s acceptable by human standards…”

“No, you are,” Seungwan said reassuringly. “It’s just—we don’t usually hug each other while , you know? The only reason we’d do that is if we were, um, together, or something.”

Seulgi frowned. “We are together.”

“No, I mean like, dating.” Seulgi’s face showed incomprehension still, and Seungwan tried to think in nymph-outside-of-human-civilisation terms. “You know, courting each other? Being romantically involved?”

“Oh.” Seulgi’s face turned a shade of crimson that she was sure matched hers. “Oh! I’m sorry, Wan.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said hurriedly, not wanting Seulgi to feel guilty for something she hadn’t known beforehand. “Just—just don’t go around hugging other humans like that, okay?” she half-joked, but was unwittingly struck with the image of Seulgi throwing herself into the embrace of someone who wouldn’t be quite as understanding as she was, and her stomach lurched.

“Please.” Seulgi must have seen the apprehension in her face, because she reached over and squeezed Seungwan’s hand. “You’re the only human I’ll ever need in my life.”

—

Some time after Seungwan turned sixteen, she thought she might finally be ready to learn how to swim.

She announced this to Seulgi, who was drifting in lazy circles in the water, and Seulgi jolted upright in the water, her eyes eager.

“Come in, then,” Seulgi coaxed, beckoning Seungwan into the stream. (Earlier, Seungwan had dressed casually in clothes she didn’t mind getting wet, never having owned a swimsuit because of her aversion to water.)

Cautiously, she dipped her toes into the stream. Seulgi watched her patiently, though Seungwan could see the excitement dancing in her eyes.

She sat down again, heart thumping hard. “Maybe I’m not ready,” she hedged. Even the soft swoosh of the stream as it flowed along to gentle currents was unsettling her.

Seulgi hummed in understanding. As if reading her mind, she waved a hand, and the stream slowed to an even gentler flow. “Better?”

“I think so,” she said uncertainly.

“I’ll hold on to you,” Seulgi promised, and Seungwan felt her heart beat a little faster at the words. She ignored it. She had been reacting strangely to some of the things Seulgi said or did recently, even though she friend really wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Especially since that day when Seulgi had gotten out of the water to hug her—

She swallowed, trying hard not to think about the memory.

“Why is your face so red?” Seulgi giggled at her, gently splashing her with a wave of water. “Are you nervous?”

Seungwan nodded mutely. She would rather die than tell Seulgi what she had been thinking about.

“Don’t worry,” Seulgi said reassuringly. “I’m not gonna let you drown. Whenever you’re ready, okay?”

—

It took another hour before Seungwan considered herself ready.

She slid slowly into the stream, Seulgi moving to catch her as she did so, her arms secure around Seungwan’s midriff. Seungwan’s hands, unsure where to go, rested on her forearms, before sliding to her shoulders, and finally settled for hanging awkwardly in the water. Being held by a Seulgi was bad enough without having to touch her, too.

“Okay so far?” Seulgi asked softly. Her face was distractingly close, and Seungwan could make out each intricate detail of the beautiful turquoise markings around her eyes.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said nervously. Something feathery brushed against her foot underwater, and she yelped, kicking her legs up, instinctively moving closer to Seulgi, whose protective embrace tightened around her in response.

“What? What’s wrong?” Seulgi asked, alarmed.

“Um, seaweed, I hope.” Seungwan let out a chuckle that was bordering on hysterical, squinting down at the water and trying to see what had touched her foot.

“Hey, look at me,” Seulgi said gently, and Seungwan faced her. Gulping, she noticed that Seulgi’s face was now so close she could practically make out each individual eyelash. The familiar scent of wildflowers invaded her senses, Seulgi’s warm breaths fanning against her cheek. She realised vaguely that the nymph’s eyes were a lighter brown than she’d originally thought.

“We’re gonna work on getting you to stay afloat without me holding you by the end of today, okay?” Seulgi said brightly, her tone optimistic as always, oblivious to the thoughts running amok in her mind. Seungwan sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

—

“Sooyoung.” Seungwan poked her friend’s shoulder, earning a sleepy mumble.

“What.”

“When did you know you had a crush on my sister?”

At this, Sooyoung suddenly looked wide awake, her back ramrod straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Seungwan raised her eyebrows, and Sooyoung relented. “Okay, fine. Whatever. It’s never gonna happen anyway. You and I were six when we first became friends, and then you invited me over to your house, and I remember thinking she was really, really pretty. And she was three years older than us, so of course she seemed like someone cooler. And then I grew up and thought my crush was stupid and superficial, but I started spending more time with her, and she’s so nice to me, and we can talk for hours on end and not get bored, you know?”

She looked at Seungwan, as if daring her to make fun of her, but Seungwan only gave her an expectant look. “And?”

“And what? I’m not going to tell you the embarrassing parts of my crush.”

“Crush? Who has a crush?”

Seungwan nearly snorted at the aghast look on Sooyoung’s face as Joohyun walked into the kitchen, holding an empty mug.

“We were talking about Sooyoung’s crush,” she said sweetly, and Sooyoung glared daggers at her.

“Sooyoung has a crush? On whom? Why didn’t you tell me?” Joohyun leant over and flicked Sooyoung’s forehead, eliciting a yelp. “We were up till two in the morning last night watching trashy rom-coms, you could’ve told me then.”

“Oh, were you?” Seungwan was positively cackling. She wiggled her eyebrows at Sooyoung when Joohyun wasn’t looking, and narrowly missed being kicked in the shin.

“No, we were talking about your crush, remember?” Sooyoung smiled menacingly at her, drawing a thumb across . Seungwan gulped; Sooyoung’s attempt at deflection had inadvertently hit home.

Joohyun turned to her, eyes narrowed, and Seungwan could practically feel Protective Big Sister mode kicking in. “You have a crush?”

Seungwan put her head in her hands. “I don’t know,” she said miserably, and she saw Sooyoung and Joohyun exchange looks next to her.

“Who is it?” her sister asked.

“Someone from...school,” Seungwan said vaguely.

Joohyun hummed, drawing up a chair next to her. “What’s special about them?”

Seungwan shook her head, leaning over and resting her head on Joohyun’s shoulder. She felt her sister’s fingers comb through her hair almost immediately, and sighed, body relaxing automatically. “Even if I did have a crush on her, there would be no point. It kind of feels like we’re from two different worlds. I can’t even begin to imagine how we would date.”

“Sounds dramatic,” muttered Sooyoung, and Seungwan kicked her under the table. “Who is this, a celebrity?”

“Something like that,” she said.

“Oh. It’s one of those—you’re dating a chaebol, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Also, like I said, I don’t even know if I have a crush on her.”

“It’s pretty easy to tell. A cute girl lent me gym clothes and touched me on the arm the other day and I nearly died,” Joohyun said, missing the way Sooyoung’s face fell at her words. “So, you know, if you feel things like that.”

The memory of Seulgi’s bare body pressed against hers flashed in her mind suddenly, and Seungwan swallowed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“If thinking about her is making you blush like that, then you’re definitely in deep,” Joohyun murmured, the corner of her lips pulling upward in amusement.

Seungwan sighed. Oh, no.

“Also, I came in here to talk to you about something,” Joohyun continued, looking at her with something akin to hesitance, something she rarely saw on her older sister’s face. “Both of you, actually.”

“What is it?” Seungwan felt unease prickle under her skin. When Joohyun had that look on her face, it usually meant bad news.  

“Dad’s job is taking us to Canada,” Joohyun said, “for at least two years.”

“You’re kidding,” Seungwan whispered, but Joohyun shook her head apologetically. “At least?”

“You’ll be doing your last two years of high school there.”

Seungwan barely heard her, looking across the table to Sooyoung instead, as if for reassurance that she’d heard wrong, but Sooyoung looked similarly dumbstruck.

“It’s two years,” Joohyun said gently, looking between both of them. “We’ll be back in no time.”

“You’d better video call me at least once a week,” Sooyoung threatened, but it sounded hollow.

“Yeah,” Seungwan said weakly.

“You too, unnie,” Sooyoung said to Joohyun, her voice a little softer, and Seungwan saw Joohyun smile crookedly at Sooyoung with affection.

“Of course.”

—

Seungwan was on her back next to the stream, staring up at the sky blankly. Next to her, Seulgi was in the position she usually adopted whenever they were hanging out; elbows propped on the grassy bank, chin resting on her hands.

Feeling eyes on her, Seungwan turned, and saw Seulgi studying her face intently. As they made eye contact, Seulgi jumped and looked away, almost as if she were caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

The sudden movement made the sunlight catch the turquoise markings that delicately cradled Seulgi’s eyes, and Seungwan couldn’t help but reach up, tracing them softly with her index finger.

“They’re beautiful,” she murmured, and Seulgi looked at her, pink dusting her cheeks. Seungwan’s finger trailed almost reverently down to the soft skin of her cheekbone, where the markings ended and curled around her ear instead, and Seulgi leaned a little into her touch, eyes closing.

Seungwan lowered her hand to trace at the markings that curled around her shoulder, following the intricate twists and curves in wonder. She heard Seulgi’s breath hitch, and looked up to see the naiad staring at her again, lips parted slightly.

Her hand stilled as they gazed at each other. Seulgi looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but was barely managing to restrain herself.

“I have to go to Canada,” she blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself.

Seulgi blinked at her.

“Wow, Canada? That’s a whole ocean away,” she said after a second, smiling at Seungwan. “When are you going? I’ve never been because it’s too far to swim myself, but my nereid friends tell me autumn is beautiful there.”

“In August,” she mumbled. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky again.

“For how long?” Seulgi prodded. “You should stay till September at least, so you can take pictures and show me what autumn’s like. I’ve always wanted to see the rivers around the world.”

“For at least two years, apparently,” Seungwan said miserably. “My dad got a job there.”

Seulgi fell silent. “Oh,” she said finally, when Seungwan turned to look at her.

Seungwan said nothing, and a pregnant silence hung between them. Her heart felt heavy, disappointment weighing down on her chest like a stone, and she didn’t know why. She would be back in two years, after all. It was just difficult to imagine those two years without Sooyoung or Seulgi. The only difference was that she could video call and talk to Sooyoung on the phone, but she could do neither of those things with a water nymph who despised technology.

“Seulgi,” she said at the same time Seulgi said, “Wan-ah.”

They looked at each other. Seungwan had no idea who moved first, but suddenly they were both throwing their arms around each other, so forcefully that their shoulders knocked together painfully. She felt tears stinging at her eyes, and heard Seulgi already sniffling into her shoulder.

“I can’t imagine two years without you, you’re my best friend,” she whispered, and her shirt shifted as Seulgi nodded emphatically.

“But you’re coming back, right?”

“Of course,” Seungwan said firmly. She gave up trying not to cry, and saw a teardrop trickle down Seulgi’s bare shoulder.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Seulgi pulled back and smiled at her brightly, and it was such a Seulgi thing to find optimism even in a situation like this that Seungwan nearly started to tear up all over again.

She just pulled Seulgi closer, cherishing her presence while it lasted.

—

Time seemed to fly faster the more Seungwan prayed it didn’t, and it went from a matter of months, to weeks, to a few days until she had to leave. She spent as much time with Sooyoung and Seulgi as possible, though the atmosphere of their playdates had changed a little; Sooyoung had grown moodier the nearer her departure date became, and Seungwan sometimes thought she caught Seulgi looking at her a tad wistfully when she thought Seungwan wasn’t looking, an air of melancholy shrouding the usually bubbly water nymph, but she would blink and Seulgi would be smiling blithely at her again.

Currently, she was seated by Seulgi’s stream, and Seulgi was clearly fidgeting, hands hiding something behind her back.

“What?” she laughed.

“This might be stupid,” Seulgi told her, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at her.

“Nothing you give me could ever be stupid,” Seungwan said frankly.

“Close your eyes and turn around, please?” Seulgi asked, echoing her words from a year ago. Smiling at the memory, Seungwan shifted so she was facing the other way and shut her eyes. She felt something cool slide around her neck and heard the sound of a clasp clicking shut. Two hands gently grasped her shoulders and turned her around again.

“So since you’re leaving tomorrow, I wanted to get you something that’d remind you of me—me, and our friendship, I mean,” Seulgi said, eyes fixed on the pendant that was now hanging around Seungwan’s neck. “And I wanted it to be like the one you gave me because I wanted us to match.”

Seungwan looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue, and Seulgi’s face fell. “It’s stupid.”

“No, I just can’t see it.” She laughed, reaching forward for a strand of hair that had fallen into Seulgi’s eyes and affectionately tucking it behind her ear. Doing so made the pointy tip of Seulgi’s ear poke out of her hair, provoking an “aww, your ears are so cuuuuute!” from Seungwan.

“Stop it,” Seulgi complained, putting her hands over her ears, but Seungwan just grinned.

“I’m never gonna shut up about your ears. You shut up. They’re cute.”

“Whatever,” Seulgi huffed, but Seungwan could see pink tinge her cheeks, and the hint of a smile pulling at her lips. The nymph waved her hand, and the surface of the stream became as still as a mirror. “Go on, take a look.”

Seungwan peered down into the now-glassy surface of the water, and gasped softly. Her reflection reached up and grasped reverently at the beautiful icy blue aquamarine stone that now hung around her neck.

“I went to visit my nereid friends yesterday and I found this in the ocean,” Seulgi said, looking at her shyly. “Taeyeon unnie told me people who went to sea used to bring stones like these to keep them safe and bring them good fortune, and I hope this necklace does the same for you.”

“How did you get the chain?” Seungwan whispered, twisting the stone this way and that, admiring the way it caught the moonlight. She imagined Seulgi diving down into the depths of the ocean just to retrieve this little gem for her, and felt her heart thump a little faster against her ribcage.

“You’d be surprised what turns up in the ocean.” Seulgi grinned at her, looking proud of herself. “Don’t worry, I cleaned it thoroughly!”

“I never said you didn’t.” Seungwan laughed at her.

“Also…” Seulgi was looking at her, her smile shy again. “I chose one that was the same colour as my stream, so it’ll be like there’s a part of me with you when you’re all the way over in Canada.”

“Gross,” Seungwan teased, but quickly softened, touching the orange-tinted stone that rested against Seulgi’s chest. “I’ll be with you too.”

She looked down, a dull panic clenching at her chest. Being with Seulgi had nearly made her forget she was leaving to fly halfway across the world in the morning. Seulgi had fallen silent, and Seungwan knew she was thinking about the same thing.

“Wan-ah.”

Seulgi took her hand in hers, squeezing it, her eyes suspiciously bright. She seemed to be struggling with what to say, but Seungwan understood.

“I know,” she said softly, squeezing back. “I know.”

 

---

don't ask me what this is, because I don't know either. it was supposed to be fluffy wenseul with 5k words max, and y e t. this is gonna be a 2-part story, I'll upload the final part soon! thank you for reading <3