Seungwan video called Sooyoung every opportunity she had, overwhelmed by having to start anew at a school in an unfamiliar country with unfamiliar faces. Sometimes, she would make Sooyoung call her from beside the stream, lying that she missed the woods by her house, when in reality listening to the gentle rush of Seulgi’s stream and seeing its crystalline waters comforted her. Sooyoung would casually skip rocks across the water with her free hand, and Seungwan would be reminded of the day she first saw Seulgi’s eyes peering at her from the water.

While she listened to Sooyoung talk about her day and complain how boring school was without her, she would toy with the blue gemstone at her neck, wonder distractedly if Seulgi was listening, if she could recognise Seungwan’s voice from the gritty audio quality of a long distance video call, and if it comforted Seulgi to listen to Seungwan’s voice as much as it comforted Seungwan to listen to the burble of her stream.

—

“Seungwan, did you hear me?”

Seungwan blinked uncomprehendingly at her father. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, I know how much you miss home, but I really can’t pass this up—”

“How many more years?” she interrupted, her voice coming out in a near-whisper. “Are you sure?”

She felt Joohyun’s fingers slip into her hand, whether to seek or offer comfort, she didn’t know. Automatically, she curled her hand around her older sister’s, feeling numb.

“I don’t know, Seungwan. Hopefully no more than a few.” He looked at her, his thick eyebrows pushing together. “But things aren’t so bad here, right? You’ve made friends?”

Seungwan opened , the dull panic in her gut welling up in in the form of a retort, but it died at the hopeful look on her father’s face. Next to her, Joohyun’s thumb rubbed a soothing rhythm on her palm. “Yeah, dad. Of course.”

He cast a grateful smile her way. As soon as he’d left the room, Seungwan let her head fall on Joohyun’s shoulder. “Unnie,” she murmured. “Can you believe it?”

Joohyun moved her hand to rub Seungwan’s back in comforting circles instead, and Seungwan felt herself relax, despite her stark disappointment. “I know. But you’ll be graduating high school soon, and then you can join me in university. And things will be better there, I promise.”

Seungwan had picked up English quickly enough, faster than Joohyun, even, but she’d be lying if she said she was completely comfortable studying in a school where everything was taught in a different language. She’d only been in Canada for two years, and the other kids were years of inside jokes and colloquialisms ahead of her. No matter how many friends she made, or how fast she learned the language, she couldn’t help but feel a little left out.

She’d never had so many people struggle to try to pronounce her name back home—or worse, skip trying altogether and deliberately mangle her name, laughing maliciously at “hard-to-pronounce Chinese names”. She’d thought about yelling back that she wasn’t even Chinese, but in the end, she had just ended up going by the name Wendy, and Joohyun by Irene.

Seungwan felt like she was ten again and facing down her elementary school bullies, except this time, there was no brazen Sooyoung to hide behind, and no Seulgi to hurl pebbles at mean-spirited boys.

She eased herself out from Joohyun’s embrace. “I’m gonna go call Sooyoung.”

—

“You can’t be serious!”

Seungwan nearly dropped her phone as Sooyoung’s voice blasted through her speakers.

“Yeah, I am serious,” she said glumly. The waters of the stream gurgled at her from behind Sooyoung, and she wondered whether Seulgi was listening, and whether she felt as disappointed as Seungwan did.

“Are you even coming back?” Sooyoung demanded.

“Of course I—” Seungwan started to say, then paused. What if her father got another promotion? It seemed entirely possible. She swallowed, looking at the stream behind Sooyoung again, and found herself desperately wishing she could see Seulgi’s face, with her warm brown eyes and gentle smile.

“Hey,” Sooyoung said, voice uncharacteristically soft, and Seungwan realised too late there were tears staining her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She sniffed, rubbing furiously at her eyes.

“What are you apologising for?” Sooyoung pointed a finger at her. “Even if you have to stay in that country forever, I’ll come and find you and Joohyun unnie, okay? It’s going to be okay.”

Seungwan felt her eyes well up with more tears, but she cracked a smile. “I won’t stay here forever.”

“You know what I mean. And next time when people at school are being nasty to you, FaceTime me. I’ll yell at them.”

“Okay. I love you, Syoung.” Trust Sooyoung to make everything better, in her own unique way.

Sooyoung grinned, crossing her thumb over her index finger and waving an obnoxious finger heart at her. “I love you too!”

If only Seulgi trusted Sooyoung enough as well to reveal herself to her. Seungwan wondered briefly if Seulgi looked any different in the two years that she hadn’t seen her. She looked at the stream again, willing Seulgi’s familiar face and bright smile to pop out of the water, just so she could see her again, if only for a moment.

But of course nothing of the sort happened. Seungwan looked back at Sooyoung, quickly matching her enthusiastic smile, and tried to ignore the ache in her chest.

—

Seungwan graduated high school with a stunningly perfect GPA and leadership positions in about three different clubs; the result of immersing herself in studying and extra-curriculars instead of spending her time with people she didn’t really want to be spending her time with anyway.

She went on to attend the same university as Joohyun, and formed deeper and longer-lasting friendships, just as her sister had promised. Her less-than-stellar experiences in high school prompted her to keep mostly to herself, and she did at first, quietly joining a few clubs, sitting in the first row in her lectures, and acing all her tests.

At the start of her second semester, however, her school held a concert that Joohyun positively forced her to sign up for (“Do it! You loved singing in high school show choir!”), and Seungwan found herself sitting in front of hundreds of people with her guitar and trembling fingers. She started singing anyway, her voice becoming stronger with every note, and soon a hush fell upon the audience. When she finished, it was dead silent, and Seungwan was just preparing to sprint offstage and never show her face in public again, when someone stood up and started clapping loudly, and soon the entire auditorium was on their feet, joining in. A few people were even whistling. Seungwan blushed from the roots of her hair to her feet, bowed out of habit, and hurried offstage, thunderous applause ringing in her ears.

She became a campus-wide sensation not long after; everyone was eager to get to know the pretty girl with the golden voice. Much to Seungwan’s bewilderment, people she’d never even seen before were coming up to her and complimenting her singing, asking her if she’d like to come to some party held that weekend, some of them even asking her out on dates.

Seungwan complained to Sooyoung about this one day, and Sooyoung cackled for a full minute before telling her she was being stupid.

“You’re single, right? Unless you have someone hidden away that I don’t know about?”

“I mean, yes…” Seungwan hedged.

“Are the people asking you out ugly?”

“No?”

“Then go,” Sooyoung told her, still trying to stifle her laughter. “I mean, you might even get free food, right? What have you got to lose?”

Seungwan thought of cat-like eyes, adorably big ears, and a smile that could put the sun to shame. She coughed. “Um, I don’t know.”

“My point exactly.”

—

Comfortable in her new university and now-buzzing social life, Seungwan grew to love Canada, but it still felt like a part of her was missing. Her frequent video calls to Sooyoung meant that Sooyoung’s presence in her life had barely wavered, and there was only one other person she missed as much.

It had been three years since Seungwan had last laid next to the stream, but she couldn’t stop seeing Seulgi in everything around her. She saw her in the crystal-clear waters of the fountain that marked the centre of her university, she saw her in the bright grin and full cheeks of a girl who asked her out for coffee, and she saw Seulgi’s little dimple in the smile of a guy who tried to hit on her at a party. (She couldn’t help but think it looked better on Seulgi, without question.)

When another girl had taken her on an objectively perfect date, complete with dinner and wine under the stars, and kissed her afterwards, all Seungwan could think about was the soft curve of Seulgi’s lips, and how they would taste if Seungwan kissed her.

She visited the rivers of Canada when she had the time, remembering Seulgi’s request and taking pictures from every angle imaginable. She would look at the water and try to imagine Seulgi there, chin resting on her hands, smiling at her, but it wasn’t the same.

Her hand went to the gemstone around her neck, a gnawing emptiness in her chest, and she wondered if Seulgi missed her just as much back home.

—

“Hey, Syoung,” Seungwan said brightly, grabbing a couple of shirts from her closet.

“What.” Sooyoung yawned and squinted at the screen. “It’s too early for you to be this cheerful.”

“Oops.” She had forgotten about the time difference. “Guess what?”

“What,” Sooyoung said, still grumpy.

Seungwan grinned at the camera, unable to hide her excitement. “Guess who’s coming back this Friday?”

She waited impatiently while Sooyoung blinked at her slowly, her eyes still half-closed. Then Sooyoung let out a shriek, throwing off her blankets. “You’re coming back?” she half-screamed, and Seungwan grinned even harder.

“I’m coming back!”

Seungwan hugged a pair of shoes to her chest, a gift from Joohyun for her twentieth birthday, while Sooyoung yelled excitedly at her through her phone (“After three and a half years! ing finally!”). She felt the hard edge of her aquamarine pendant dig into her skin, and smiled so hard she felt like her face would burst. Sooyoung had stopped video calling her in front of the stream as she’d gotten busier with her university classes, and it had been months since she last saw it—but she would be seeing it, along with her favourite naiad, in just a few days.

Very casually, she asked, “Have you been to the stream recently?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“Just nostalgic.” Seungwan shrugged innocently. “We spent so much time there when we were younger.”

“No, we didn’t, we stopped because of your hydrophobia, remember?” Sooyoung cast her a strange look. “I was nostalgic, FaceTiming you for three years next to that stream without you there. I don't know why you made me do that, anyway. You were terrified of that place.”

“I don’t have hydrophobia now,” Seungwan tried to protest.

“I don’t even want to go near there, anyway. I’m so glad the Son family is coming back. Remember when you guys used to clean up when people littered? Those were the days.”

Seungwan blinked, then tried to swallow around the rising panic in . “Sooyoung, what are you talking about?” she said slowly.

“It’s so polluted now. I think some people have been camping or holding parties upstream or something. Anyway, it looks disgusting—Seungwan? You listening?”

Seungwan had gone white, hands shaking so badly her phone clattered noisily to the floor. Sooyoung’s snort of laughter sounded at her feet.

Numbly, she bent to pick it up. “Good to know you’re still the same. I hope your screen hasn’t cracked again,” Sooyoung was saying.

“Sooyoung,” Seungwan said shakily, “I need you to go to the stream and help clean it up. Please.”

“What? Do you know how long that would take me? I swear, even the colour of the water is different. That’s how bad it is.”

“Sooyoung,” Seungwan said again. She was squeezing her phone so hard her knuckles were bone-white. “Please.”

The jagged crescent cut on Seulgi’s arm flashed in her mind, and she shuddered. She looked at Sooyoung desperately, fully expecting scepticism, but Sooyoung’s gaze had softened, even though she still looked a little confused.

“I’d do it for you, but I’m in Jeju on vacation with my parents, remember? I get back a day after you do.”

Oh. Right. Seungwan swallowed, and started mentally counting the hours left till she could get home. “Okay,” she mumbled. “It’s okay.”

“I didn’t know you cared about the stream that much,” Sooyoung said.

Seungwan shrugged weakly. “Nostalgic,” she repeated.

Whatever expression that was showing on her face must have been bad, because Sooyoung said gently, “Hey. I’ll see you in like two days, okay? And then we can go clean that up. Promise.”

“Okay.” Seungwan wanted to cry. “Why hasn’t anyone called the police on them?”

“I think they’ve been called once or twice, but one of the culprits has a father who’s an officer, or something.”

Of course.

She heard her door open, and moments later, a chin rested on her shoulder. “I heard shouting, what’s going on?” Joohyun asked.

Seungwan all but shoved her phone into Joohyun’s hands, and heard a surprised, “Oh, Joohyun unnie? Oh my god, I just woke up—”

There was a muffled scuffling sound. Joohyun laughed at whatever it was on the screen that Seungwan couldn’t see from where she was standing.

“Don’t look at me,” Sooyoung whined.

“But you look cute,” Joohyun told her, and Seungwan could practically feel Sooyoung’s embarrassment radiating from the screen of her phone.

She left them to it, hurrying out of the room and blinking back panicked tears.

—

The moment Seungwan arrived back home, she dumped her luggage in her room, grabbed a fistful of garbage bags, and ran to the stream, not even bothering to change her clothes. Joohyun gave her a bewildered look as she sprinted past, but she ignored her.

The woods had seen little change even during her four years away, and she found the familiar beaten path leading to the stream easily. She picked up her pace, her sneakers thudding softly against the soil, her heart pounding out the same rhythm against her ribcage.

Finally, she reached her destination. Heart stuck in , she surveyed the stream.

It was worse than she’d imagined—but then again, from Sooyoung’s description, she hadn’t quite been sure what to expect.

The surface of the water was completely clogged with garbage, most of it a worrying amount of plastic and aluminium that Seungwan knew was almost deadly to both plants and animals. There was still a gentle current flowing, causing various pieces of garbage to gently bump and clink against one another, but for the most part the garbage was trapped by the rocks dotting the far end of the stream. Sooyoung had been right about the stream being so polluted it seemed a different colour; the once glimmering waters were now a nauseating murky green.

“Oh, god...” Seungwan dropped to her knees, her eyes already stinging with worried tears. “Seulgi? Seulgi, please be okay...”

She felt something nudge against her sneaker, and looked down, blinking away the tears blurring her vision, to see a familiar turtle gazing up at her dolefully.

“Hi again,” she whispered, her breath catching. She gently lifted the turtle, intending to put her in her lap, but realised, to her horror, that there was plastic tangled messily around her back legs. Inhaling sharply, she immediately set about unwinding the plastic from her legs, murmuring words of comfort as she worked.

When she was done, the turtle nuzzled her palm gratefully, blinking slowly at her. Seungwan placed her on the grass, a good distance away from the garbage-infested waters.

“Do you know where Seulgi is?” she whispered. The turtle only stared at her blankly.

Seungwan tried to breathe past the rising panic in , and pushed aside the anxious voice in her head that told her she might be too late. She started robotically picking things out of the water, her hands shaking so badly she had to try three times to pick up an aluminium can.

“Seulgi, I’m sorry,” she choked out, her tears now running freely down her cheeks. “I wasn’t fast enough, I’m so, so sorry—”

Something cool touched her arm, and Seungwan looked down to see wet fingers curling slowly around her wrist. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

There was a familiar figure in the water, draped weakly over the grassy bank, looking at her through half-lidded eyes.

“Seulgi?” Seungwan breathed.

Seulgi continued to stare at her unblinkingly, the look in her eyes making Seungwan’s words die in . Then, the fingers around her wrist slipped away as quickly as they had come.

“It’s not you. It can’t be you,” Seulgi finally spoke, her voice faint and raspy.

“What?” Seungwan said, confused. “What do you mean?”

Seulgi started to slip back in the water. “Go away.”

“Wait, no, don’t leave!” Seungwan lunged forward automatically and grabbed Seulgi’s arm, fully aware of her ability to disappear in the water when she wanted to, only to let go as Seulgi let out a pained hiss. It was then that Seungwan noticed the arm she had taken ahold of was littered with bruises and cuts—just as she had feared. Her eyes flicked up the length of Seulgi’s arm, and she realised that her skin was tinged with a sickly green. Even the brilliant turquoise tattoos on her shoulder seemed to have dimmed to a dull teal.

“Seulgi,” she said, her voice trembling. She touched Seulgi’s arm, more gently this time. The naiad looked up at her, and Seungwan noticed her eyes were unusually glazed over. Instinctively, she pressed a hand to her forehead, and Seulgi jerked away, but not before Seungwan realised her skin was searing hot to the touch.

“You have a fever,” she said, alarmed.

“Leave me alone,” Seulgi said through gritted teeth, pushing her hand away.

“Why?” Seungwan whispered. A lock of Seulgi’s hair fell in her eyes as she struggled to stay upright, and Seungwan’s hand jerked up instinctively to tuck it behind her ear, but stopped when Seulgi drew back, eyes wary.

“You’re not her. You’re not real,” Seulgi mumbled, then slumped on the grassy bank, her body going slack.

Seungwan nearly went dizzy with panic. She pressed a shaking finger to Seulgi’s neck, and almost cried out in relief when she felt a weak pulse. Desperately, she tried to remember what she’d been taught to do in every mandatory high school first aid course with people who fainted, and carefully rolled Seulgi onto her back, slipping her hand under her head to cushion it.

“What do I do, what do I do,” Seungwan muttered frantically, pressing a hand to her forehead.

She could try to clean the stream up—but that would take time she wasn’t sure Seulgi had. Besides, Sooyoung had mentioned the root of the problem was upstream and involved people, which would take even longer to deal with, and she didn’t want to leave Seulgi alone for that long. Seulgi might be able to mysteriously disappear in her stream, but Seungwan didn’t think it was wise for an unconscious Seulgi to be in the water. Could water nymphs drown? A near-hysterical laugh bubbled out of her, and she fought to keep her composure.

“Okay,” Seungwan said to herself, making up her mind. “Okay. I can do this.”

She couldn’t push Seulgi back in the water, and she definitely couldn’t just leave Seulgi lying here.

Sliding her hands under Seulgi’s lifeless body, she looked from the murky stream to the back door of her house in the distance.

“It’s just a couple of metres,” she said to herself again. “Okay, maybe more than a couple.”

She debated calling Joohyun to help her, but quashed the thought almost immediately. It had taken a great deal of time and trust for Seulgi to even reveal herself to her, and she wasn’t about to break that trust.

Steeling herself, Seungwan stood up, hands hooked around Seulgi’s body, and yelped in surprise, nearly falling backwards. She had been expecting Seulgi to be much heavier, but the naiad in her arms was light and frail, almost alarmingly so. The hard jut of Seulgi’s bones dug into her skin as she shifted her weight in her arms.

She bit her lip, and started walking as fast as she could.

—

Seungwan draped a cool towel over Seulgi’s forehead, dabbing at her flushed cheeks with another towel. Seulgi moaned faintly, stirring underneath the blankets lining Seungwan’s bed. Her lips parted, and she mumbled something in such a faint voice Seungwan had to bend down and put her ear to Seulgi’s mouth in order to even hear her.

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi was muttering deliriously. Seungwan’s breath caught in .

“Seulgi,” she said desperately, using her thumb to push away strands of hair sticking to her forehead, which was already damp with a feverish sweat. “It’s me, Seulgi, it’s okay.”

Seulgi muttered again, then fell silent. Her eyes were still closed.

Seungwan tried to ignore the worry tight in her chest, and turned to head downstairs to find water and medicine for when Seulgi would wake up. She had no idea whether human medicine would even work on a naiad’s body, but it was worth a shot. Anything had to be better than watching Seulgi toss and turn from her high fever.

A hand grasped weakly at her wrist.

Seungwan whipped around immediately, eyes wide. Seulgi was awake, looking at her blearily through half-lidded eyes.

“Is it really you?” Seulgi whispered.

She was back at Seulgi’s side in a flash, relief coursing through her, smoothing down the towel she had placed on her forehead, and dabbing at her cheeks again. “You’re awake! Where does it hurt? I’ll dress your wounds in a sec, okay? I wanted to take care of your fever first, it was so high—”

Seungwan stopped talking as Seulgi’s other hand reached up hesitantly, just barely grazing her cheek.

“Seungwan, is it really you?” Seulgi repeated, her voice shaky and uncertain. “Or am I just hallucinating again?”

“It’s me,” she said softly. “How are you feeling—”

She stopped mid-sentence again as Seulgi’s eyelids fluttered, and she slumped back against the pillows with a pained groan.

Her relief from earlier fizzled as quickly as it had come, and she wheeled around, heading for her bedroom door, trying her best not to think about how weak and lifeless Seulgi looked lying in her bed.

—

The next few hours were spent meticulously tending to the numerous cuts and bruises on Seulgi’s body. The naiad drifted in and out of consciousness, tossing feverishly and staining Seungwan’s sheets with streaks of dark crimson. Occasionally, she would open her eyes, stare at Seungwan like she’d never seen her before, proceed to tell Seungwan that she wasn’t real, and then promptly pass out again. Seungwan would take these moments as opportunities to tip water in , or let her attempt to chew on some food.

She might have been imagining it, but she thought she saw the unhealthy green tainting Seulgi’s skin recede slightly after a couple of hours, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe human medicine was good for naiads after all.

No matter how many times Seungwan dressed the same wound, however, the bleeding refused to cease, but she had expected this. She left Seulgi tucked securely under her covers with a fresh towel draped over her forehead, grabbed a few garbage bags from under the kitchen sink, and strode purposefully to the stream.

It took her another couple of hours to get all the junk in the area cleaned up. Without Seulgi around to help, she had to jump in the stream and swim a little in order to reach the litter clinging to the far side of the stream bank, which she did without much difficulty, thankful she had asked Seulgi to teach her how to swim. The turtle followed her the whole way, looking at Seungwan as though afraid she would start drowning any minute. She smiled reassuringly.

“Seulgi’s going to be okay,” she told the turtle, while they swam back and forth. “I hope.”

The turtle stared back at her.

Right. She didn’t have Seulgi to translate turtle speak.

“I’ll take care of her,” Seungwan promised. She had no idea whether the turtle even understood what she was saying, but it was nice to talk to at least one friendly face about what was happening to Seulgi.

When she was done, all the garbage bags she had brought with her were full to the brim. She dumped them and trudged upstairs to her bedroom, threw herself in her bed next to Seulgi’s unconscious form, changed her blood-stained bandages as quickly as she could, and fell asleep almost immediately, too tired to care that she was sleeping in a bed stained with her friend’s blood, or that said friend was sleeping stark next to her.

—

Seungwan was rudely awakened in the middle of the night by someone shaking her insistently.

“What,” Seungwan groaned, turning around and cracking an eye open. A pale face greeted her in return, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, before remembering Seulgi was in her bed.

“Seulgi?” she said, instantly fully awake. The previous day’s events came back to her, and relief flooded through her immediately. Seulgi must have gotten better because she had cleaned up everything in the stream.

But Seulgi was looking at her through a fever-induced haze, cheeks flushed, pupils blown. “Where am I?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

Seungwan cupped Seulgi’s unusually warm cheeks, automatically brushing away the strands of hair sticking to her face. “It’s okay. You’re at my house. I’m taking care of you.”

Seulgi stared at her, and then squinted, as if she couldn’t really see her. “You sound like my Seungwan. Are you Seungwan, or my Seungwan?”

“What? What do you mean?”

Seungwan pressed the back of her hand to Seulgi’s forehead. It was still alarmingly hot. She frowned. Maybe the fever just needed some time.

Seulgi was still watching her anxiously, her eyes slightly unfocused.

“I’m your Seungwan,” she reassured her, her voice trembling. “Go back to sleep, okay? You need sleep to get better.”

Seulgi didn’t look convinced, however, and curled back onto her pillow, staring past Seungwan’s shoulder. “You can’t be my Seungwan. My Seungwan left,” Seulgi told her. Her eyes were glazed over. “But she’ll come back. And she’ll make everything okay.”

“Seulgi, I’m right here,” Seungwan whispered. Her eyes stung with tears. “You’re going to be okay..”

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi murmured, as though Seungwan hadn’t even spoken. A smile pulled sleepily at her lips, and soon she was fast asleep again.

Seungwan ran shaky fingers over the markings on Seulgi’s face. They had lost so much of their original brilliance that in the dark, they seemed like swirling tendrils of obsidian, standing out starkly against the naiad’s pallid complexion.

She shivered, wound her arms tightly around Seulgi’s fevered body, and tried to get some sleep.

—

The next day, Seungwan headed down to the stream again. She’d woken up, expecting Seulgi to be back to normal, but a quick look at her soaked bandages told her she was not. Her skin was the same yellowish-green, and her body still burned with a fever.

She soon found herself looking at despair at the stream. It was still unnervingly murky, and new pieces of garbage were now bobbing in its waters. Seungwan slumped onto the grass in frustration, putting her head in her hands.

An unexpected breeze ruffled her hair in the otherwise still air, bringing with it the unexpected smell of fresh berries and fragrant forsythia. She couldn’t help but raise her head, breathing in the refreshing scent and closing her eyes in bliss.

Someone placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“Aagh—” Seungwan made a strangled noise, turning around, but stopped. Standing before her was a young girl, who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, looking down at her, her eyebrows tight with worry. The first thing Seungwan noticed was that she was . She was about to cover her eyes and run for her house in the distance, but then she noticed the emerald markings on the young girl’s shoulders and face. As she looked more closely, she saw that they were intricate patterns of leaves and delicate branches, coiling around her eyes and shoulders, down the length of her arms, and ending at the tips of her fingers.

“It’s rude to stare,” the girl told her.

“You’re a nymph,” Seungwan realised. “A wood nymph. A dryad.”

She realised the girl was giving her the same wary look she remembered Seulgi giving her all those years ago, and decided to stop talking lest she turn tail and disappear into the woods behind her.

“My name is Yerim,” the girl said. “And I trust you because Seulgi trusts you, so don’t do anything funny.”

“Yerim—you’re Seulgi’s friend!” Seungwan stood up in excitement. “You have to help me. Seulgi’s sick because of what’s been happening to the stream and I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” Yerim said, and she looked angry. “I know what the problem is. Three boys are camping upstream and they’ve been dumping everything into the water. Just the smell alone nearly made me sick.”

Three boys. Seungwan had a bad feeling about this.

“You have to chase them away,” Yerim begged her. “They won’t stop, and they’ve been doing this for a few weeks already.”

“A few weeks? Seulgi’s been like this for a few weeks? Why didn’t anyone do anything?” Seungwan demanded, and regretted it immediately as Yerim’s eyes flashed.

“You don’t think I’ve tried? Seulgi wouldn’t let me. She said I was risking my life for her. Every time I tried to go over there she would use the little energy she had left to fling me back to my portion of the woods.”

“I’m sorry. I was just worried,” Seungwan said quietly, and Yerim’s eyes softened.

“Me too. Please, you have to help.”

“Of course I will, but me against three boys?” Seungwan laughed nervously. Three boys, no shame whatsoever in littering, targeting Seulgi’s stream. If it was who she thought it was, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“I’ll help you,” Yerim said, her face set in determination. “You brought Seulgi to the place where you live, right? So she can’t stop me.”

“No,” Seungwan said almost immediately. “Seulgi said it was dangerous. What if they record you attacking them or something? What if they target the forest next?”

She could picture someone who would stick a broken metal tab into an animal also setting the woods on fire. Or maliciously chopping down trees. Or hurting innocent animals. Or something. Forests were easier to hurt than rivers. She looked around at the birds twittering in the trees, the squirrels scurrying back and forth with acorns in their mouths, and tried to imagine it going up in flames. “No,” she said again, emphatically.

“I don’t care,” Yerim said stubbornly.

Seungwan opened to argue, but the air rustled with a breeze that carried with it the scent of pine needles and honeysuckle, and all of a sudden there was a girl standing next to her where there had been no one before.

She nearly jumped out of her skin for the third time in twenty-four hours.

The newcomer folded her arms across her chest, and Seungwan noticed similar green markings around her shoulders and arms. Another dryad.

“Yerim, it’s too dangerous. Remember what happened to the last dryad who fought back against humans? All her trees were chopped down!”

“I have to, Saeron,” Yerim said. “It’s Seulgi. I can’t sit by and do nothing. Her life force is so weak I almost can’t feel it anymore.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” the other dryad said.

Seungwan looked between Yerim and Saeron’s equally adamant faces, thought of Seulgi tossing feverishly in her bed, and how she barely even recognised her, and knew there was little point in arguing.

“Come back to this spot tonight at midnight,” Yerim told her, and Seungwan almost gulped at the devilish gleam in her eyes. “Those humans don’t stand a chance.”

—

Seungwan slipped in through her back door, intending on heading up to her room and taking care of Seulgi until nightfall, but a tall something barrelled into her, nearly knocking her over. She yelped, losing her balance, arms flailing, but whoever it was caught her with ease and yelled Seungwan you’re back you’re back you’re back—

“Sooyoung!” Seungwan flung her arms around her friend’s midsection, burying her face in her neck. Wait.

“When did you get so tall?” she demanded, craning her neck to look up at Sooyoung, who only grinned.

“Why did you stay so short?”

Seungwan punched her on the arm weakly, and all but collapsed into Sooyoung’s embrace. “I missed you so much,” she mumbled.

She felt arms wrap snugly around her in return, and smiled contentedly, before she was pushed away abruptly and held at arm’s length. Sooyoung narrowed her eyes at her.

“So. Funny story. I let myself in with your spare key and I go up to your bedroom to surprise you because I thought you might be sleeping in after your long flight. I open the door, and what do I see? No Seungwan and a girl sleeping in Seungwan’s bed.”

“Oh.” All the colour drained from Seungwan’s face.

“Yeah, oh. Who’s that? You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

“No, she’s not my girlfriend! She’s—um—” Seungwan floundered. Sooyoung raised an eyebrow at her.

“She’s a one-night stand I brought home with me,” Seungwan blurted, before her brain could catch up with .

Sooyoung’s other eyebrow lifted to join the first. “You? You brought home a one-night stand?”

“She was really hot,” Seungwan said weakly. She did not like the delighted look that was beginning to form on Sooyoung’s face.

“What did Canada do to you?” Sooyoung said in awe.

“How was Jeju?” she asked pointedly in response, only for Sooyoung to roll her eyes.

“You know how Jeju was. I sent you pictures practically every day. Don’t change the subject.”

Sooyoung took ahold of her arm, dragging her into the kitchen. Seungwan made it a point to protest loudly the whole way.

“You’re not leaving this kitchen until you tell me everything—ow!”

Both of them had crashed noisily into someone, who reached out and grasped both their forearms to steady them. Seungwan belatedly registered the groggy face of her sister, complete with sleep-mussed hair and rumpled-looking pyjamas.

She practically heard Sooyoung gulp beside her, and had to stifle a laugh. Fourteen years, and Sooyoung still had an embarrassing crush on her sister.

“Joohyun unnie,” Sooyoung said slowly, sounding a little dumbstruck. Joohyun was wearing an old oversized shirt and a pair of shorts that Seungwan was used to seeing, but one look at Sooyoung’s face told her Sooyoung obviously was not.

“Sooyoung?” Joohyun’s eyes widened, and she took a step forward and hugged Sooyoung so fiercely that the younger girl nearly fell over. “You woke up this early to come see us?”

“I just got back from Jeju—” Sooyoung actually staggered a few steps backwards, but Joohyun didn’t look like she cared, smiling drowsily in Sooyoung’s embrace.

“I remember. The pictures you sent me were pretty,” Joohyun murmured.

“Yeah, I wish both of you could’ve seen everything with me.”

“Oh, the scenery was pretty too, and I really liked all the sunsets you kept sending me, but I was talking about your selfies. That last close-up with the finger heart when you were surrounded by flowers was my favourite one, you looked so cute,” Joohyun told her.

Seungwan raised her eyebrows at Sooyoung from behind Joohyun’s back. She didn’t remember getting that particular picture.

Shut up, Sooyoung mouthed at her.

She took the opportunity to sidle past the two of them and head upstairs to her room, darting away nimbly as Sooyoung tried to reach for her shirt.

—

 

In the afternoon, Sooyoung accompanied her to the stream to clean it up, just as she had promised, and made a disapproving noise in when she saw its filthy waters.

It wasn’t as dirty as when Seungwan had first seen it the day before, but its waters were just as murky. It might have been her imagination, but the air around them seemed muggier and heavier, the fish in the water seemed to have stilled in place, and even the usually merry current seemed to have slowed. It was as if the entire stream was mourning the loss of its naiad.

Seungwan caught a familiar turtle looking at her despondently from where she was resting on a slimy rock, and tried to reassure her with her gaze.

I’ll bring her back, she mouthed.

Seeming to pick up on her mood, Sooyoung nudged her gently. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

Joohyun joined them after a while, shaking her head at the state of the stream and pushing up her sleeves.

Seungwan was grateful, but she knew it wouldn’t solve the problem she had lying in her bed. Still, she bent and started picking things out of the water anyway, hoping she could make things at least a little more bearable for the animals living there.

She felt a small breeze that smelled like fresh berries and springtime play with the flyaway strands of her hair, and felt a little better.

—

The rest of the day was spent waiting with bated breath for midnight to fall.

Seungwan lay in her bed next to Seulgi, wide awake, her skin prickling with trepidation.

Confronting three of her childhood bullies. No big deal. She could handle this. She had a powerful army. Of two dryads.

Her heart thumped harder in her chest, and she found Seulgi’s clammy hand under the sheets, squeezing it softly. The small action alone seemed to ease her anxiety somewhat, even if Seulgi was sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil.

Seungwan sighed, and tenderly grazed Seulgi’s cheek with her fingers. “Hang in there, okay?” she murmured.

Seulgi mumbled in her sleep in response, turning on her side. Their faces were centimetres apart from each other. Seungwan resisted the instinctive urge to move back, even though her pulse had already started to quicken from their proximity. Four years apart from Seulgi had done nothing to dampen her feelings; if anything, they had only grown.

The moonlight shone dimly through her curtains, bathing Seulgi’s profile in a silvery, almost ethereal glow, and Seungwan found herself swallowing and inching back.

The room felt too hot all of a sudden.

Seulgi moved restlessly in her sleep again, and a brightly-coloured glimmer around her neck caught Seungwan’s eye. She reached out to touch the familiar necklace, a fond smile on her face, remembering when she had clasped it around Seulgi’s neck with shaky fingers. It seemed like ages ago. Her other hand went automatically to her matching necklace, its weight around her neck familiar and comforting.

Her phone buzzed, and Seungwan jumped, then remembered she had set an alarm fifteen minutes before she was supposed to meet Yerim and Saeron.

She looked back at Seulgi, her eyes tracing her face one last time, before slowly starting to get out of bed.

Unfortunately, Seulgi chose that moment to kick out one of her legs in her sleep, and Seungwan nearly toppled over, grabbing at her blanket to steady herself. The abrupt movement made Seulgi stir, and she yawned, looking groggily at Seungwan, who grimaced in apology.

“Sorry. Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

Seulgi blinked blearily at her. “Wan-ah? Is that you?”

Seungwan had heard this question enough times over the past two days to know that replying was useless, but hope flared up in her chest anyway. “Yeah, it’s me,” she said softly. “Do you know where you are?”

Seulgi sat up, looked around the room, and then back at her, scrunching her brows while she thought. “I remember,” she said slowly. “You brought me to your house.”

“You—” Seungwan paused in disbelief. “Wait, you do?”

“You’ve been taking care of me.” Seulgi’s arms slipped weakly around her. “Thank you, Wan.”

“You remember?” Seungwan’s mouth was hanging open in shock, but she let herself be drawn into the embrace.

“My head’s felt clearer than it has in days. I’m guessing that has something to do with you?” Seulgi smiled at her faintly.

Seungwan nodded mutely, winding her arms around Seulgi and burying her face in the naiad’s neck. “God, Seulgi, I was so worried…”

She didn’t realise she was crying until Seulgi drew back and gently tipped her chin up, tenderly brushing her wet cheeks with a finger. “Wan-ah, thank you,” she said again, her voice becoming steadier with every word. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Seungwan shook her head, about to tell she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to, but her breath stuttered in as Seulgi reached out and trailed hesitant fingers down her face, her touch feather-light, almost reverent. “I can’t believe it’s really you,” she whispered. “You—you said you’d only be gone for two years.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We had to stay longer because of my dad’s job.”

“Oh.” Seulgi looked down and was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “I thought you weren’t coming back, Wan.”

“I’m sorry,” Seungwan tried again, but it felt hollow. “I thought you knew. I told Sooyoung one day when she was video calling me by your stream.”

“I must’ve missed it.” Seulgi said quietly, still not looking at her. Guilt burned in her gut.

“I didn’t know how else to tell you,” Seungwan started to say, but let out a squeak as Seulgi threw her arms around her in an even tighter embrace with energy she shouldn’t have possessed, and the wind was knocked from her lungs.

“I’m just glad you’re back,” Seulgi told her. “Unless...you’re leaving again?”

Seungwan felt a twinge in her heart at the uncertainty in Seulgi’s tone. “No,” she said firmly. “I’m here for good.”

She drew back. Seulgi’s eyes were now as watery as hers felt, and the sleeve of Seungwan’s shirt was unusually damp. “Good,” she said, just as firmly. “I missed you so much, Wan-ah.”

“Me too, Seulgi,” Seungwan whispered, tears pooling in her eyes again.

I thought about you every day, she nearly wanted to say, but was thwarted by another angry buzz from her phone.

Seulgi looked around, bewildered. “What is that?”

“My phone alarm,” Seungwan said sheepishly, remembering Seulgi’s dislike of electronic devices and tossing her phone aside.

Five minutes until she had to meet Yerim and Saeron. Selfishly, she tightened her arms around Seulgi one last time, burying her face in the soft skin of her neck and breathing in, cherishing this rare moment of bliss before she had to face her three biggest nightmares again. Seulgi giggled a little at the sensation, and Seungwan smiled in response, but reluctantly pulled back.

“I have to go,” she murmured.

“Where?” Seulgi looked confused, glancing at the moonlight streaming through her window, before looking back at Seungwan. “It’s so late.”

Seungwan opened , ready to tell her, and then remembered Yerim telling her how persistent Seulgi was in not letting her confront the culprits responsible for polluting her stream. She promptly closed .

“I have, um, a thing with Sooyoung,” she said evasively. “I have to...meet Sooyoung.”

Seulgi tilted her head slightly, studying her. Seungwan tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. She’d rarely had the cause to lie to Seulgi, but when she tried to, Seulgi knew her so well that she almost always saw through her.

Trying to distract her, she pressed a hand to Seulgi’s forehead. “You still have a fever,” she said hurriedly, gently pushing the naiad back onto her bed. “You should rest.”

She slipped a hoodie on over her shirt, and looked around for anything else she would need. Should she prepare for the worst and bring a weapon of some sort? Yerim would’ve told her if she needed to bring anything...extra, right? She fervently hoped the confrontation wouldn’t get physical, but she recalled the ugly purple bruises that would often dot her face and body during her elementary school days, and she wasn’t so sure. Granted, her bullies were technically adults now, just like her, and one would have expected them to have grown out of punching people, but she supposed if they were still polluting without shame, then they couldn’t have changed much. She the field hockey stick propped up neatly next to her bed, deep in thought.

With a start, Seungwan realised Seulgi was staring at her, an unreadable expression on her face.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” She shot Seulgi a quick smile, despite the queasy feeling in her stomach.

Seulgi didn’t look convinced. Her eyes dropped to the field hockey stick in her grasp. “Where are you going with that?”

“Oh, this?” Seungwan laughed nervously. “It’s for a sport I used to play in high school. Um, Sooyoung and I want to play a little before we sleep.”

“At night?”

It suddenly occurred to Seungwan that bringing a long blunt object to confront three temperamental, impulsive boys was probably not a very good idea.

“You know what, we’re not playing after all.” She let go of the field hockey stick.

Seulgi’s brow was furrowed. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am I?” Seungwan glanced at her phone, and grimaced. Two minutes late. “Oops, gotta go! I’ll see you later!”

She hurried out the door, feeling Seulgi’s eyes following her the whole way.

—

 

“You’re late,” Yerim whispered to her as they crept through the woods. “I thought you chickened out.”

Seungwan frowned. “No, Seulgi was just getting suspicious. Why would I chicken out?”

Yerim shrugged. “I don’t know. Humans are weak. I don’t understand them.”

They saw the flickering orange light of a campfire, and Saeron put her hand on Yerim’s arm. “There.”

There were three familiar-looking boys sitting around the campfire, talking in loud, obnoxious voices. Seungwan put a hand to her forehead. “Not again,” she muttered. “So what’s the plan, exactly?”

“There isn’t a plan,” Yerim told her, just as Saeron said, “Go up to them and ask them nicely to leave. If they don’t, we’ll step in. Try to get rid of their phones before that happens.”

“Okay.” Seungwan swallowed. “Don’t we have other nymphs that can help us too? Seulgi mentioned a Taeyeon?”

“They’ve tried, but the water’s too polluted for them to come here. They just end up getting sick.” Yerim gave her a small push in the direction of the camp. “Don’t worry, we can handle ourselves. We’re young, but we’re powerful enough for three humans.”

Seungwan gulped, and began walking.

One of the boys—their leader—looked up as she approached, his face curious. Unfortunately, he recognised her almost immediately.

“Look who it is.” He grinned, standing up, and the other boys followed suit.

Seungwan’s hands started to shake ever so slightly, and she hid them behind her back before they could notice. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to ask you to stop throwing stuff in the stream.”

He scoffed. “Why?”

“It looks disgusting and I live near it,” she retorted, trying to mask the tremble in her voice with bravado.

“Well, too bad for you.”

Seungwan balled her fists in frustration, but then thought of Seulgi lying in her bed at home, and forced out through gritted teeth, “Please.”

Behind them, Seungwan saw Saeron seemingly materialise out of thin air, picking up two phones that were lying by the campfire. She winked at Seungwan, and dropped them in the fire, before turning on her heel and disappearing into thin air.

Two down, one to go.

One of the other boys snorted. “She humiliated us so many times in school. I say we throw her in it, along with all our other garbage.”

Seungwan looked at the murky stream nervously. Being dunked in filthy water did not sound at all appealing, even if she was by now a decent swimmer. She thought she saw something glint and move in the stream, creating ripples across its surface, but she blinked and it was gone.

Their leader grinned menacingly. “Good idea.”

He started moving forward, walking with slow, unhurried steps, as if he knew she couldn’t outrun him if she tried. Warily, Seungwan took faltering steps back, her hand itching for her field hockey stick.

She noticed his phone was clutched loosely in his hand, and slapped it to the ground, stomping on it hard before he could do anything. Yerim and Saeron would have free reign.

The leader’s eyes darkened with anger, his mouth opening in outrage. Seungwan winced, tensing from head to toe, and mentally prepared to run.

Just as she was about to sprint for her house, a tree branch rose to hover in the air, then whacked one of the boys soundly across the head. He groaned, clutching his head, while the grass at the other two boys’ feet grew at an alarmingly fast rate, becoming abnormally thick and long, and twining around their feet. They started yelling in terror, clawing at their legs in vain.

Meanwhile, Seungwan was trying very hard not to laugh at the sight. She thought she heard Yerim giggle mischievously from somewhere to her right.

Their leader looked at her, and his eyes narrowed. “Weird always happens when we run into you,” he snarled.

He pulled a penknife from his pocket, hacked at his grassy restraints, and stormed over to her. Before she could even blink, he drew back his fist and suddenly she was staggering and seeing stars. He took ahold of both her arms and dragged her to the stream, his grip like iron on her muscles. Seungwan, still dazed, tried to wriggle weakly out of his grasp, but he only sneered and held her tighter.

“This is the last time you’re ever humiliating us,” he told her, and pushed her into the stream, forcing her head underwater.

At first, all Seungwan could think about was not inhaling a mouthful of the filthy water. She thrashed about in his grip, but soon her lungs were burning for oxygen, and she felt even dizzier than before.

Just before her vision was engulfed in darkness, she felt the water beside her rising angrily, surging past her in a towering wave.

—

“Wan-ah.”

Her head was throbbing. There was an distant ringing in her ears.

“Wan-ah, please.”

The ringing was incessant and extremely annoying. She tried to lift her hand to cover her ears, but it felt like lead, lying uselessly by her side.

“Seulgi, I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him—” someone was saying.

Seungwan was dimly aware of sobbing coming from somewhere above her, and hands cupping her cheeks. She frowned. She tried to lift her arm again, to comfort whoever it was.

“Seulgi, she’s moving,” said a softer voice. “Her hand. Look.”

“What?”

The warm hands slipped away from her cheeks, and she almost wanted to protest, but then she felt them taking her hand gently.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” an anguished voice whispered from above her.

Whoever it was sounded so pained that Seungwan mustered what remaining strength she had left to force her eyes open. She blinked woozily as everything around her came into focus.

A tear-stricken face hovered anxiously over her.

“Seulgi,” she murmured.

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi breathed, a look of utter relief passing over her face. “Thank the gods.”

Behind her, Yerim and Saeron watched her with matching looks of worry. The abandoned campfire crackled in the background, the bullies nowhere to be seen.

“What...what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Shh,” Seulgi whispered shakily, leaning forward and pressing tender, reverent lips to her forehead, then her temple, then her cheek. “Don’t worry. Stop thinking so much.”

Seungwan wanted to protest, but then all of a sudden, Seulgi’s impossibly soft lips were pressing themselves against hers.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Wan-ah,” Seulgi mumbled against her lips. “Please, please never do that to me again.”

Seungwan reached out weakly, attempting to pull Seulgi back down, wanting to feel her lips against hers again, but Seulgi was already pulling away, not meeting her eyes.

“You should rest. Here, this’ll help.”

She touched her finger to Seungwan’s temple, but Yerim surged forward, putting her hand on Seulgi’s shoulder.

“Don’t. You’re still too weak. I’ll do it.”

“Wait, do what—” Seungwan started to say, but Yerim’s fingers found her temple, and she found her eyelids growing strangely heavy. stretched in a yawn.

The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was Seulgi staring at her, biting her lip, the moonlight catching the orange gemstone around her neck.

—

Seungwan woke to the smell of fresh pancakes and sizzling bacon.

She yawned, shifting sleepily under her covers, and felt slender fingers sliding onto her palm, interlocking with her own.

Startled, she let out a little shriek, jumping into the air and flinging off her blanket in shock.

“Wait, Wan-ah, it’s me!” Seulgi said hurriedly, sitting up as well.

“Oh, sorry,” Seungwan said sheepishly.

Seulgi beamed at her. “You’re awake!”

With her blanket cast to one side, it was fast occurring to Seungwan that Seulgi, as usual, wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. She was still beaming at her, looking perfectly healthy, the turquoise markings that swirled around her eyes and shoulders gleaming brilliantly in the morning sun. Her skin was glowing radiantly, free of any trace of the sickly green tinge.

Instinctively, Seungwan started to check for any remaining signs of Seulgi’s wounds, but found herself unable to look past the orange gemstone resting on her chest.

Blushing to the roots of her hair, she grabbed her blanket and instinctively flung it over both of them.

Seulgi was still sitting upright, looking at her quizzically. Seungwan groaned internally.

“Lie down so the blanket can—so I don’t have to—” so I don’t have to keep hugging you while you’re not wearing anything, she finished in her head. Cringing, she placed a hand on safe, platonic territory (Seulgi’s shoulder), and pushed the naiad down onto her bed.

“How are you feeling?” Seulgi asked, still none the wiser to her internal struggle.

“Great,” Seungwan said, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “Just great.”

She wondered why Seulgi was asking, and then the events of last night came flooding back to her, so abruptly that she nearly smacked her head. “Seulgi, last night...”

She remembered confronting the bullies, drowning, waking up to three very worried nymphs, and then darkness. She could still feel the ghost of a throbbing headache from when she had nearly drowned, and she rubbed her head absentmindedly.

Seulgi was suddenly looking everywhere but at her. “Yes?”

Seungwan frowned. “How did I get here? What happened to the boys?”

“Oh.” Seulgi exhaled, then shot her a quick smile. “Yerim and Saeron helped me bring you back. I didn’t think you’d want to wake up in the middle of the woods. And we drove the boys away. We won’t have to worry about them for a long time.”

“And your stream?”

“It’ll take a little longer to fully heal. But it’s well on its way.”

Seungwan nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. I mean—” she her lips dryly, suddenly unspeakably nervous “—you look...well.”

She wanted to hit herself on the head. She sounded like every frat boy that had tried to hit on her at a party.

Seulgi only nodded. “Thanks to you. But at least tell me before pulling something like that? You scared me to death.” She pointed a stern finger at her. “You nearly drowned, and then you hit your head on a rock! If you hadn’t been such a bad liar, if we hadn’t been there…”

I thought I was going to lose you Wan-ah please please never do that to me again—

Seungwan frowned, cocking her head and ignoring the jibe (she never could lie properly when it came to Seulgi), trying to place the memory. She felt like she was forgetting something. Something important.

“If I had told you, you would’ve tried to stop me,” Seungwan protested. “And then you’d still be sick.”

“Anything would be better than having to see you nearly drown,” Seulgi said softly.

Seungwan had to disagree. She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

She still couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something important. Frowning again, she looked up to see Seulgi watching her, something almost expectant in her gaze. Seungwan opened , a question on her tongue, but was interrupted by a growl from her stomach.

“Oops,” she said, blushing, while Seulgi snorted with laughter.

The smell of pancakes and bacon beckoned her enticingly from downstairs. Seungwan cast a longing look at her bedroom door. She just knew Joohyun was using the maple syrup they’d brought back from Canada by the dozen.

She looked back at Seulgi, and found the naiad already watching her, eyes fond, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. Then their eyes met, and Seulgi blinked, and the moment was gone, so fleeting Seungwan thought she could have imagined it.

“Want to join me for breakfast?” The words spilled out of Seungwan’s mouth before she could stop herself, and she felt heat curl along the shell of her ear. The question had been innocent enough, but she looked at Seulgi, bare under the covers of her bed, dark tresses splayed about messily on her old pillow, the necklace she gave her glinting around her neck, and her ears grew even warmer.

“Yes,” Seulgi said immediately, sitting up, Seungwan’s blanket bunching around her chest. “Human food is amazing.”

“Wait.” Seungwan put her hand on where she thought Seulgi’s knee was under the blankets, thinking fast. “My parents are out at work already, but my sister’s the one cooking, so she’ll probably be there. Would that be okay? Or should I bring food up? Or—”

“Wan,” said Seulgi, sliding her hand to rest upon Seungwan’s, and smiling gently. Seungwan’s stomach did a little flip-flop. “I trust you and I trust your family. Besides, they don’t have to know. I can pretend to be a human. It’ll be fun!”

“Um,” said Seungwan, eyeing the conspicuous markings on her face doubtfully. “Yeah. Fun.”

She got up, heading to her closet, pulled something out at random, and tossed it at Seulgi. Seulgi caught it deftly, realised what it was, and looked at Seungwan petulantly.

“Humans don’t go around ,” Seungwan said firmly.

“Fine,” Seulgi said, scrunching her nose in distaste. She pulled the hoodie over her head, the wrong way round, and tugged it downwards, but the hoodie seemed to be stuck around her head. Seungwan stifled a giggle.

“Wan-ah, help,” came Seulgi’s muffled whine.

Seungwan crossed the room, still giggling, and knelt next to Seulgi on the bed. Gently, she turned the hoodie the right way round, fitting Seulgi’s head through successfully and directing her arms through the sleeves, trying to ignore the way her heart beat a little faster every time her fingers brushed exposed skin.

Seulgi heaved a dramatic sigh of relief once the piece of clothing was safely on (“I can breathe again!”), and looked down at the hoodie, then at Seungwan, dimpling happily.

“It’s soft. I like it. It feels like this.” She patted Seungwan’s blankets.

“See, clothes aren’t that bad.”

“Only if they’re yours,” Seulgi said earnestly. She brought her sleeve to her nose and inhaled. “It smells like you.”

Seungwan coughed into her hand and turned around to get a pair of shorts before Seulgi could see the heat creeping into her cheeks.

—

To Seungwan’s eternal gratitude, Seulgi had managed to pull on the shorts by herself, once she figured out the front from the back. Seungwan led the way downstairs, following the tantalising smell of breakfast and trying to ignore how distractingly good Seulgi looked in her old university hoodie.

Seulgi walking next to her was a new experience. She hadn’t realised the naiad was slightly taller than her until Seungwan had to look up to meet her eyes. Unused to seeing her friend like this, she couldn’t help it; she gave her form a quick appraisal, eyes lingering on long, lithe legs.

She berated herself silently for picking out shorts instead of long pants.

On the stairs, their hands brushed, and Seungwan felt the electric tingle down to her fingertips. Before she could pull away, Seulgi slipped her hand into hers, lacing their fingers together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Unable to hide her grin, Seungwan squeezed her hand, and felt her squeeze back.

They walked into the kitchen to see Joohyun and, to her surprise, Sooyoung, sitting at the dining table and talking in hushed voices.

Seeing Sooyoung at breakfast wasn’t an unusual occurrence, given that she slept over regularly, usually after talking late into the night with Seungwan and forgetting the time, or simply because she couldn’t be bothered to walk the fifteen minutes back to her house. But she’d always slept over in Seungwan’s room, and never in Joohyun’s.

Sooyoung turned to get a glass of water, leaving Joohyun alone at the table, chewing on a strip of bacon and looking quietly pleased with herself. Seungwan could feel Seulgi looking at her questioningly, but she only squeezed her hand in response, keeping them both out of sight for just a while longer.

She saw Sooyoung return to the table, sit down, and smile at Joohyun. Joohyun speared a piece of pancake on her fork and fed it to Sooyoung, watching her affectionately as she chewed. Seungwan wanted to gag. Okay, so maybe Sooyoung’s stupid crush on Joohyun wasn’t unrequited after all—

Her train of thought halted as Joohyun leaned in, put her hand on Sooyoung’s forearm, and kissed her.

“Holy ,” she said out loud.

They jumped apart immediately, chairs scraping on the floor, and turned to face her, eyes wide.

Joohyun recovered first, although her cheeks were faintly pink, and her hand was still resting on Sooyoung’s forearm. “Good morning?”

“Good morning,” Sooyoung echoed.

“When did this happen?” Seungwan demanded.

“Last night?”

Seungwan gaped at them. Joohyun looked at her, apologetic. “Is this weird?”

She blinked. “Oh, of course not, unnie. I’ve had fourteen years to prepare for this possibility.”

Joohyun’s eyebrows furrowed. “Fourteen years?”

“Okay!” Sooyoung said loudly. “Who wants more bacon?”

“Me!” Seungwan chirped, grinning brightly in response to Sooyoung’s menacing look and pulling Seulgi into the kitchen behind her. “And my friend.”

Sooyoung gave Seulgi a brief once-over, before her eyes lit up in recognition, and a delighted smile found its way onto her face. Belatedly, Seungwan realised her mistake.

“Two nights in a row? Wow, Seungwan.” Sooyoung wolf-whistled.

“Sooyoung, shut up shut up shut up—” Seungwan muttered, but Sooyoung ignored her.

“Hello, Miss Two-Night Stand!”

“Hello…?” Seulgi said, looking bemused, while Joohyun mouthed two-night stand? from her seat at the table. Seungwan shook her head vigorously.

“This is Seulgi,” she said, giving Sooyoung a threatening pinch. Sooyoung cackled, batting her hands away. “Seulgi, this is Joohyun, my older sister, and this menace is Sooyoung.”

“Did she also study in Canada, or is she just wearing your clothes?” Sooyoung asked in a stage whisper. Seungwan didn’t think Joohyun’s eyebrows could go any higher.

“We’ll be taking this, thanks,” Seungwan said hurriedly, swiping a plate of pancakes and bacon and a bottle of maple syrup from the table.

“Seulgi, you have interesting tattoos,” Joohyun noticed, her eyes studying the markings on Seulgi’s face. “Very...unique.”

“Oh, um, thank you!” Seulgi flashed a polite smile, but it was clear she had no idea what Joohyun was referring to.

“Sit down and eat,” coaxed Sooyoung, taking the plate and bottle out of her hands and setting it down on the table. “Why the rush?”

Seungwan nearly shivered at the mischievous smile Sooyoung was giving her.

She held on a little tighter to Seulgi’s hand.

—

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me a little longer?” Seungwan asked, eyeing the stream dubiously. It was gurgling happily, crystalline waters rushing along to its usual merry current, with just a trace of the grime she’d seen over the past few days. The stream was almost fully healed from what her past bullies had done to it, but Seungwan wasn’t sure she felt entirely safe about Seulgi being in there until it was completely clean.

“I’ve been away from it for too long, Wan-ah,” Seulgi replied, smiling fondly at the water. “Oh, hello!”

Little woodland animals were starting to crowd at Seulgi’s bare feet, the turtle Seungwan had grown to love among them, making an assortment of delighted chirruping noises. Seungwan looked at the stream, and saw that even the tadpoles and fish were clustered in the water, closest to where her feet were. She felt a happy glow warm her chest, and couldn’t keep from smiling as well.

When Seungwan looked back at Seulgi, she found her already gazing back, a mixture of frustration and longing in her brown eyes.

“Seulgi?” She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Seulgi blinked, feigning innocence, the look in her eyes disappearing as quickly as it had come. “What?”

Seungwan tilted her head. “You’re a bad liar too, you know.”

“I—” Seulgi’s mouth moved soundlessly, then she looked at her feet. When she looked up again, her eyes were downcast. “Do you really not remember, or are you just pretending it never happened?”

The feeling prickled at Seungwan again, like she was forgetting something terribly important. She fought harder to grasp at the memory that was already slipping between her fingers, and her head started to throb.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally. Seulgi nodded, her eyes darting away from Seungwan’s, and Seungwan pleaded, “Tell me.”

Silence fell between them. The throbbing pain in Seungwan’s head dulled to a lingering ache.

Then Seulgi took a step forward, cradled her face in her hands, and kissed her gently, slowly moving her lips across hers. Too soon, she pulled back, and Seungwan tried to remember how to breathe. Her lips tingled briefly.

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi whispered. They were so close Seungwan could see tears beginning to prick at the corner of her eyes. She didn’t understand, and she didn’t like it.

Through the flustered haze clouding her brain, Seungwan vaguely registered that Seulgi was taking hesitant steps back. Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Seulgi’s unimaginably soft ones, kissing her fiercely, hands on Seulgi’s back, grabbing fistfuls of her own hoodie and pulling her closer. Seulgi inhaled sharply against in surprise, but after a while she reciprocated, sliding her hands onto her cheeks again and kissing her back.

Everything around her smelled like the wildflowers growing by the stream, and the scent of grass when it rained. The tender brush of Seulgi’s thumbs on Seungwan’s cheekbones left trails of searing heat wherever they touched, and Seungwan pressed closer to her, kissing her harder, her hands sliding up and down Seulgi’s back slowly.

One of her fingers accidentally slipped beneath the hem of the hoodie, touching the exposed skin of Seulgi’s hip, and the breathy gasp she was rewarded with almost made her want to slide her hands under the hoodie and see what kind of reaction she would evoke if she ran her hands over the soft skin there.

But Seulgi’s hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back, and they broke apart, breathing heavily. Seungwan felt tears staining her cheeks that she knew didn’t belong to her.

Seulgi’s lips were rosy and swollen, and her eyes were wild, pupils dark, as she looked at Seungwan. Seungwan was sure she looked pretty much the same.

Why did you stop, she wanted to say, but couldn’t get the words out with how Seulgi was looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” Seulgi whispered. She turned and slipped into the water, and Seungwan was left grabbing at empty pieces of clothing.

“Wait!” Seungwan called out, the desperation in her own voice catching her off guard.

There was no answer, and she buried her face in the hoodie in frustration. The scent of wildflowers still lingered in the soft cotton.

“Seulgi, come back,” she tried, but the surface of the stream remained undisturbed. “You kiss me like that and then leave—”

She stopped, the memory hitting her so abruptly she had to sit down.

Seulgi hovering over her as she lay on the grass, one hand on her jaw and the other clutching her hand tightly, pressing her lips to hers.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. She must’ve hit her head harder than she thought, because there was no other way she would forget something like that.

She looked at the stream, then made up her mind. If Seulgi wasn’t going to come to her, she’d go to Seulgi.

Seungwan slid into the stream, shivering, and started treading water like Seulgi had taught her. “Seulgi?” she called.

No response, but she had been expecting that.

She stopped treading water, in a deep breath, and let her head fall underwater, pretending to thrash around.

Seungwan didn’t have to wait long before arms were wrapping themselves around her, and she found herself staring into the worried face of her naiad.

“Hi,” she murmured, grinning up at Seulgi.

“What were you thinking? I thought I taught you how to swim! You—” Seungwan pressed a kiss to her lips, cutting her off, swallowing Seulgi’s startled gasp.

She stole another kiss before Seulgi could react, then moved to kiss the corner of Seulgi’s mouth, dipped a little lower and trailed kisses along her jaw, whispering, “I’m sorry for forgetting. I would’ve said something if I remembered.”

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi said, breathing a little heavier. “I don’t—wait—what about your—”

With a kick of her legs, Seungwan was next to the stream bank again, and she climbed up before tugging Seulgi up as well.

“What about my what?” she asked, touching her lips to the corner of Seulgi’s jaw, then moving to her ear, and taking the lobe between her teeth, feeling Seulgi shiver against her. “Your ears are so cute,” she mumbled.

She kept her hands balled by her side, fully aware that Seulgi was again, completely bare, and not wanting to touch her anywhere she wasn’t comfortable with.

Seulgi pulled back, and Seungwan saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. “When you were talking to Sooyoung one day, I heard you say you went out with a girl and you kissed her, and I thought…”

She swallowed, but she didn’t have to continue. Seungwan tried valiantly to remember who she was referring to, and then it came to her.

“Seulgi, I’m so sorry,” Seungwan said, her hands twisting in her lap. “I only talked about it because Sooyoung kept pressing me, and she kissed me. Not the other way around. I didn’t see her after that.”

“You didn’t? Why?” Seulgi whispered.

Seungwan looked down, and coughed, feeling her cheeks go warm. “I thought about you the entire time we were kissing?”

“Oh.”

Seungwan smiled, and looked back up to see a blush colouring Seulgi’s cheeks. “Yeah. Oh.”

“You were just going out with so many good-looking people, I was sure you didn’t feel the way I did,” Seulgi said quietly. “And they were all human, too, and I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about being with someone who’s...not.”

Seungwan shook her head emphatically.

“It’s only ever been you for me, Seulgi,” she whispered. She leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to Seulgi’s lips, and the naiad let out a shuddering sigh, her eyes half-closing.

“Me too.” Seulgi confessed, leaning forward, lips chasing hers as she pulled away, her thumb tracing circles on the back of Seungwan’s hand.

Seungwan shook her head, a wry chuckle escaping her lips. “If anything, it should be me feeling that way. I mean, look at what you, Yerim, and Saeron can do.” She flipped their palms, starting to play with Seulgi’s fingers, doubt beginning to seep into her. “You’re amazing. Why would you settle for a human like me?”

When she looked up, Seulgi was gaping at her. A few seconds ticked by, and Seungwan giggled despite herself, putting her finger on her chin and closing .

“Settle?” Seulgi’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the kindest, bravest, most selfless person I know, Wan-ah. I’m not settling for anything.” Her tone became shy. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.”

Seungwan felt her cheeks grow hot. “Guess that makes two of us.”

Wanting to be closer to Seulgi, she inched forward and slipped her hand around her bare waist, her eyes flicking up to meet Seulgi’s, watching for any sign of hesitation.

Seulgi was already watching her, eyes half-lidded and impatient.

Seungwan smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again.

 

---

so maybe I lied when I said this would be a two-part story. I'm definitely not done with these soft losers yet, and I'll be posting the third part soon!

shoutout to galaxygerbil and Sharkyun for always hyping me up, you guys are part of the reason this chapter was finished when it was <3 

also thank you so so much to everyone who's upvoted / subscribed / left comments / tweeted about this fic, it means so much and it helps with motivation!! ;; thank you for reading, and see you for the next chapter! <3