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Even with everyone busy with preparations, it took him way longer than he would’ve liked to slip away.
Reo’s heart was in his throat as he swam, his fins beating hard behind him. His hands were trembling slightly, and he clenched them together to stop the nervous tremors.
For Poseidon’s sake… this was ridiculous. His indecision would really be the death of him one day. It might be today, honestly, if he didn’t get this done now. The festival was only two hours away, after all. And it would be his only chance at this — at least until the next nautical new year rolled around, which would take twelve full moons, and Reo felt like he would explode if he had to wait any longer.
He hadn’t meant to leave the bracelet so late. He knew the rules. Everyone did. If you intended to court, you had to make your bracelet beforehand. Long beforehand. Ideally as soon as the idea settled in your mind, really. No one with good sense crafted it on the day of the festival — that time was meant for helping out with the final preparations, making sure every single detail was attended to and that no problems would pop up during the event. It was the most important occasion for a reason; the planning was extensive and there were always a thousand and one details to take note of.
But the days leading up to the event had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.
At first, he’d blamed his schedule. He’d helped with the kelp-harvest, swam two long patrols along the borders, even spent a whole afternoon untangling the lantern-jellies’ tentacles. Everyone had been busy — the colony needed every hand and tail — and Reo had thrown himself into the work without hesitation. Too much free time, he knew, would mean thinking. And thinking meant facing the confusion and anxiety churning in his chest.
It had started up a few weeks ago, ever since their encounter with the two humans and their attempt at the mouth thing.
Reo had honestly expected that experience to be a one-time thing, like cool, our lips touched, curiosity fulfilled, let’s go back to being best friends for life and pretend that never happened. But that wasn’t what happened. Nagi had taken a surprising amount of interest in the activity, and pestered him about it whenever they were alone.
Watching the marine life? Reef upkeep? Patrols? He’d get ambushed before he could get a word out, and they’d spend what felt like hours pressed against each other, mouths meeting again and again.
Even important things like shellfish hunting didn’t seem to deter the white-haired merman. Within five minutes, he’d get a tug on his arm and an eager Nagi asking: Reooo…can we do it again?…You know, the mouth thing?
It was honestly very bad for his heart. Reo had been prepared to take his feelings to his grave, but this sudden increase in closeness had made him question whether his unrequited feelings were really unrequited. Nagi had said it himself, hadn’t he? That the mouth thing was probably courting behavior? So… if he was doing it with Reo, even going out of his way to tug him aside and ask for it, that meant Nagi was interested in him, right?
But Reo couldn’t be sure. How could he, when he’d never heard Nagi express his interest in courting? Honestly, even if he did meet someone that made his fins flutter, Reo couldn’t picture him in a courtship. Romance and rituals required time and effort, and Nagi hated things that were a hassle.
No matter how much he wanted to court and be courted by Nagi, when it came down to it, Nagi and his feelings weren’t a certainty. So he hesitated.
He’d gone seaweed picking twice and tossed out what must be a dozen or more half-done bracelets, his mind racing too quickly for him to handle. What if it made things awkward? What if Nagi didn’t like it? Worst of all, what if Nagi didn’t like him? He’d start twisting a pattern, hands shaking, then abandon it five minutes later. He couldn't decide on which bead to use, either. Pearl was so cliché, coral too plain...
Suffice to say, he couldn’t bring himself to finish the bracelet, no matter how hard he tried. The anxiety would get to him, clawing at his already weak heart, and he’d panic. Nagi being in such close proximity didn’t help things, either. It was hard to escape his best friend, to get a moment alone to really think — they were so attached at the hip that he felt uncomfortable excusing himself from their dinners and picnics.
So the bracelet stayed in his mind, a mere concept, a fervent wish that remained immaterial.
It was not until the very afternoon of the Nautical Year Fest, when the tide was already shifting, that he could delay no longer. There was no time left for him to hesitate. If he wanted to declare his intention to court Nagi — which he did, of course he did — he would have to get it done immediately.
When he finally found the clearing, he didn’t swim into it straightaway, instead ducking behind a large yellow coral to check if the coast was clear. It would be problematic if any other merperson was around. Bracelet-making was a solemn process that had to be completed alone, without distraction or external influences.
Thankfully, it was empty. The air was still, with the only movement being from the gently swaying stalks of seagrass that circled the small space. Exhaling in relief, Reo swam up to the giant towers of green. The huge plants were in varying stages of growth, from little shoots that barely reached his waist to tall pieces that he had to crane his neck to take in. He reached out a hand for one that was neither too old nor too young, rubbing the sheet of green between his fingers to check for its quality.
It was slightly slimy, which was a good sign of health, and it seemed thick enough for his intended purpose. He got to work quickly, pulling out his trusty whale bone knife and severing a decent length. The next part was going to be difficult, but he’d had plenty of practice by way of his failed attempts. Besides, he couldn’t afford to mess up now, not when there was so little time.
Grasping the freshly-cut seaweed strand in his hand, he headed for the other end of the clearing, where he’d hidden the other part of the bracelet.
The oval rock sat in an inconspicuous corner, a cool, pale grey slab amongst other similarly-shaped stones. Reo overturned it gently and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. They were still there, thank Poseidon. The two objects stared back at him quietly, as though daring him to choose between them. A small, smooth bead of sea glass, almost transparent. A delicate metal ring, too small to fit any finger, but enchanting nonetheless.
Both were beautiful in their own way. Both reminded him of Nagi.
The grey seaglass, its color almost identical to that of Nagi’s eyes. The ring, its shine bright but not overwhelming, reminded him so much of Nagi’s glittering fins.
Biting his lip, Reo twisted a strand of seaweed between his fingers. He could picture Nagi perfectly — white hair drifting lazily in the current, long tail flicking behind him unhurriedly. His expression, soft and open as he gazed at Reo.
Instinctively, he reached out and pressed the sea glass to his palm. It looked more ordinary than the ring. Not too flashy, not too loud.
It felt…right.
Wordlessly, he began to weave.
Slowly and carefully, delicate knots formed, wrapping the seaglass in a net of thin seaweed. His hands trembled as he worked— not with doubt, but with something that felt a lot like reverence. It didn’t need to be perfect, he reminded himself. Just honest.
When he was done, the green strands were laced across its surface in a regular, repeating pattern. He tucked the bracelet close to his chest and closed his eyes. Let him accept it, he whispered. Please.
He barely made it in time for the opening event.
The festival was being held in the same place as always, in the patch of reef enveloping the Grand Vent. It was the most important location in their colony. Everything that held significance was carried out here. All manners of things — weddings, births and deaths. And every year, just like now, the will of the sea was witnessed, deciphered carefully by the oldest surviving merperson in their tribe.
According to the tomes, every mercolony had their own. Every Grand Vent was different. The illustrations depicted vents covered in barnacles, spewing black smoke, even housing all manners of fascinating creatures… but he’d only seen their own, so he couldn’t make a proper comparison.
Either way, Reo liked their Grand Vent. It was a dark, jagged tower as tall as five adult mermen, and its sheer height meant that it loomed over the surrounding structures. It was active all year round, with steam and shimmering bubbles pouring from its crown in steady rhythms, each plume rising steadily, slow and breathing warmth into the cool deep. Around it, a coral reef fanned out in a wide, natural amphitheater, ringed by flowering sea anemones and swaying curtains of kelp. Schools of small fish circled it, turning like murmurs in the water, seeking the heat.
It was nothing short of magnificent, and always took Reo’s breath away when he saw it. And now, with the whole colony congregated around it, it looked even more impressive.
As expected, they’d gone all out on the decoration. Soft sea moss had been gathered and placed on the sand below, carefully combed and neatly arranged. Glowing sea-stars were anchored onto rock perches, while bioluminescent algae bloomed in soft patterns along the coral walls. Large flat rocks were shuddering underneath the weight of the dishes on them, with foods ranging from common, everyday snacks to rare delicacies. Merfolk were everywhere — talking, laughing, singing. The mood was jubilant, crackling with the mingled excitement of the new nautical year and the coming of courtship season.
The Grand Vent stood at the very center, tall and steady, like the backbone of the celebration. Everything spiraled out from it— the reef, the rings of onlookers, the food tables.
Tucking his bracelet into his hip pouch, Reo scanned the crowds, looking past chattering women and boasting men for the head of white hair that he knew so well. It didn’t take long for him to find Nagi. The lazy merman was sitting off to the side, on a large shelf of dark purple coral. His flat expression betrayed his boredom. Reo swam to him, watching as Nagi’s unfocused eyes lit up in recognition. Reooo… He mumbled in greeting, making grabby hands at him.
Smiling softly, Reo let himself be pulled into the hug, his hands coming down to rest naturally on Nagi’s locks. Sorry, treasure, got caught up in something. Did you wait long? He bubbled apologetically, running his fingers through his soft hair. WIth his cheek still pressed against Reo’s chest, Nagi made a valiant attempt at shaking his head. It’s okay, Reo’s here now. The response was quiet, but Reo’s heart melted anyway.
The vent reading should be starting soon. We should join the crowd. He coaxed gently, pulling away from the embrace.
Mn. Nagi’s reply was reluctant but resigned, and Reo reached a hand down to pinch his cheek. Tradition, Nagi, tradition!
Ow, boss. Nagi warbled unhappily, one hand leaving Reo’s waist to rub at his cheek. I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.
Yeah, but knowing you, you’ll try to sneak away halfway. Reo shook his head, levelling him with a stern look. Nagi’s eyes shifted away guiltily. Ah, Reo knows me too well…
They joined the rest of the colony easily, slipping into the gathered crowd and positioning themselves at a good vantage point. The crowd was already quietening in preparation for the reading, their voices lowering to whispers as they discussed the upcoming nautical year.
A minute later, the elder glided forward out of the group, and everyone fell silent.
Mother Merelope was at least ninety, a wizened figure with hair like silver driftgrass and a cloak of layered scallop shells that clinked faintly with every movement. Her grey tail had a huge gash in it, like something somewhere had tried getting its teeth into her and just missed the mark.
Reo hadn’t spoken to her before — she was the type to keep to herself. In fact, only a select few knew exactly where she lived, but Reo guessed that it was along the outskirts of the territory, somewhere quiet where she could divine in peace.
Welcome, one and all. You are all blessed today, for the tides have allowed all of you to join us on this momentous occasion. Her voice was low and melodic, a quiet presence that commanded attention and unfurled like a current through the gathering. Twelves moons have passed since the last time we gathered here as a colony, and as such, the Nautical Year Fest is upon us. It has come time, once again, to divine the favour of the sea. Now, fair warning. I will not claim to be a prophet, nor to know the sea in its ever-roiling entirety. No one can. It is older than us all, older than anything we believe in, and it does not speak as we do. It whispers. It pulses. It sings through heat, air and pressure.
She turned toward the Grand Vent, her fingers brushing the surface of the stone with a familiarity that belied her age.
I am not all-seeing, like many of you believe, just an old friend of the ocean. One who has listened to it for many years, and who tries to understand what it chooses to show us.
Steadily, she rose, her fins beating as she swam up to the top of the vent. The crowd watched, enraptured, as she placed a gentle hand on the stream of bubbles.
Then there was silence. It was as though the colony was holding its breath. The plumes were so strong and thick that no one could see her expression, so there was no way of telling what she was thinking.
After a few minutes, Mother Merelope turned to face them again. Her expression was unreadable. The crowd began to murmur nervously, shifting. Only Nagi seemed unaffected, his expression bored as he waited for the verdict.
When she spoke again, her voice was low but certain. Some journeys will begin this year, she declared, her eyes flitting through the crowd, and others, long underway, will come home. Reo could hear a few sharp intakes of breaths.
There will be rough tides, yes, she continued, her voice kinder. There always are. But they will pass. And love — she smiled faintly, as if remembering something from long ago, love will find many of you before the next nautical year.
Then, just as quickly as she’d come forward, she retreated into the crowd again.
The excitement from the good reading was palpable. All around them, conversation started up again, from noisy discussions on the yield of their seagrass field to predictions on the next whale fall.
Then, the song began—low and wordless at first, just humming from the outer circles of merpeople. Then came the soft thrum of kelp-drums and the airy chirps of shell-flutes. The melody grew, spinning into something celebratory and grand as the tribe collectively breathed a sigh of relief.
It was time for the courting declarations.
The quiet anticipation that Reo had been feeling during the vent reading was gone, replaced with a discomforting feeling centered in his chest. Just the reminder of what he was about to do sent a surge of terror through his entire being. Success and failure interweaved themselves like strands of seaweed on his heart, tightening with every passing second.
Before he could stop himself, he chanced a glance at Nagi, and froze.
He didn't look bored, like he’d been earlier. Instead, his gaze was resolute as he stared into the distance, a faraway look on his face.
But before he could process that strange look on Nagi’s face, the crowd around them began to move, stepping away from Grand Vent in practiced unity. Wordlessly, Reo followed the flow of the colony, watching as the circle grew wider and wider. Finally, when everyone seemed to have collectively decided that it was a big enough size, the crowd came to a halt.
The tempo of the kelp-drums grew faster and louder — signaling wordlessly for the first group to enter the dance floor.
The oldest pair, two mermaids that looked over sixty, were the first to join. They laughed softly as they started to dance, one stopping to twirl the other with practised ease. Slowly, one by one, the other bonded couples stepped out from the crowd, their hands intertwined and their expressions soft. Each new entry was met with warm applause and loud cheering.
Finally, after the youngest pair had joined the crowd, the drumming softened into a deeper rhythm, steady as a heartbeat. The flutes climbed high and sharp, then faded into something almost delicate.
This was the moment those of courting age had been waiting for — and the moment Reo had been waiting for.
Movement rippled inward— teenagers and young adults weaved through the crowd to enter the circle, seaweed bracelets clutched tightly. Some swam quickly, confidently. Others hesitated.
Reo swallowed. He didn’t move. He didn’t feel like he could move. His trembling hand slid downward to press against his pouch. He could feel the shape of the bead against his fingers, firm and round.
Beside him, Nagi was silent. Unmoving.
A teenager nudged past them, her pink fins beating furiously. Reo watched her go. Despite her flushed ears, her shoulders were squared and she moved with a certainty he desperately wished he could possess.
A beat.
Reo’s fins were moving before he could convince himself otherwise.
The dance floor was chaotic. Giggling couples swayed, their voices low but playful as they danced and bopped to the beat. The crowd melted into nothingness behind him. His heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear the music.
Fingers wrapped around his wrist. He turned, his heart in his throat.
Nagi had followed him.
Reo. He murmured, softly, reverently, like Reo’s name was the only thing he knew how to say.
Nagi. Reo exhaled, gills stuttering, because Nagi’s name was the only thing he could say.
With shaking hands, he reached down and unclasped his pouch. The grey seaglass glimmered faintly as he held it out to Nagi, the perfect centrepiece.
Nagi stared at it for a moment, his gaze unbearably soft. He looked back up at Reo. Though his face remained as composed as ever, something in his eyes flickered. Like a promise.
Wordlessly, he reached out and took the bracelet, sliding it onto his wrist with slow, careful fingers.
Then, in one smooth motion, he offered his own.
Reo looked down. Woven through the bracelet was a single bead of translucent purple glass.
He couldn’t help it. He laughed, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave of feeling.
The seaweed was soft to touch when he slipped it onto his wrist.
When he looked up to meet Nagi’s gaze, he was smiling. Not the slight tilt of his lips when he was amused. A full on smile, so dazzling that Reo was rendered speechless for a moment, awed at the mere sight of it.
Can I- Reo surged forward before the question could even fall from Nagi’s lips, unwilling to wait any longer. The press of Nagi’s mouth against his was familiar but no less exhilarating, and Reo’s hand rose instinctively to curl at the nape of Nagi’s neck, pulling him closer. Nagi inhaled sharply against his mouth, startled, but he didn’t pull away. His hands moved to rest on Reo’s waist as he leaned into the kiss, his palms settling against the jut of Reo’s hip, where skin met scale. He couldn’t suppress a shiver when Nagi thumbed at his skin, nudging his tongue into Reo’s mouth firmly but gently. Their countless sessions had paid off — Nagi was getting unfairly good at this.
When they finally parted, Reo gazed down at his new bracelet, dazed.
I can’t believe we thought of the same thing. He whispered, still a little disbelieving.
It must be a mates thing. Nagi’s response was nonchalant.
It took Reo a second to process the sentence.
Nagi! He spluttered, his cheeks warming instantly. You can’t just- we just started courting…!
Why not? Is Reo considering anyone else? Nagi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Who do I need to get rid of?
What? There’s no one else, obviously. The notion was so ridiculous that he reeled back a little, stunned.
Then it should be fine, right? Nagi’s eyes were glinting with satisfaction, and he looked almost smug.
You- Oh, for Poseidon’s sake. Huffing out an incredulous laugh, Reo closed the distance between them again.