Work Text:
Mari Otsu experiences her gay awakening at fifteen.
Well, that’s not entirely correct. She's always known she liked girls—their long lashes, delicate features, and laughter that sounded like wind chimes on warm summer evenings. Even as a little kid, she'd had the sneaking suspicion that it probably wasn't normal to beat up your kindergarten boyfriend every time he tried to kiss you, or to refuse to hold his hand because it gave you the ick.
So no, fifteen isn't when Mari realizes she's gay. It's just the age Lara walks into her life and renders her carefully constructed denial completely useless.
"You're staring again.”
Mari pretends to ignore Gon-chan. She firmly fixes her gaze on the empty notebook on her desk. "I’m working.”
Gon-chan floats lazily in the center of her underwater palace. A brand-new piece of decor Mari had ended up buying for her after Lara told her all about Gon’s past as Grace the witch. "Is 'working' what the youth call burning a hole into the side of someone's head with your eyes nowadays?”
Sprawled out on Mari's futon with a stack of fashion magazines spread around her like a multicolored moat, Lara gasps and coos at all the pictures at once. Her presence is somehow entirely impossible to ignore. It’s so overwhelming that Mari genuinely wonders if it’s some sort of magical mermaid princess aura instead of just a regular girl-in-her-room thing.
Because if it’s the latter, then that’s just plain sad.
Stop looking, Mari’s common sense demands. It sounds remarkably like her boxing coach. He’s sweaty, and aggressively blowing a whistle. You have a regimen. You have to go running tomorrow at five in the morning. Keep your head in the ring.
She grips the mechanical pencil impossibly hard. Find the value of X. Integrals. Derivatives…Mari’s lost again. Lara pulls her knees toward her chest until she can rest her chin on top, making Mari’s oversized green jacket curl upwards until her long, pale legs are in full view. Wow, they sure are nice legs.
The pencil gives way with a sharp crack. Mari blinks, dumbfounded, at the mangled remains of the pencil, now split cleanly in two and bleeding tiny graphite flakes on her hand.
Gon-chan laughs. Before Mari can even think about flushing her fish down the toilet, she’s interrupted by the soft padding of bare feet on tatami mat.
"Mari! Look, look!"
Mari has about one second to shove the ruined pencil under her notebook before Lara’s natural citrusy scent invades her senses. She shoves a fashion magazine right in front of Mari’s face, tapping one fingernail against the center page.
"Isn't this incredible?"
It’s a picture of a blonde woman wearing a pale yellow summer dress with delicate white floral stitching along the hem. Paired, for reasons Mari will never comprehend, with matching five-inch stilettos that look painfully impractical for doing literally anything.
"It’s... a dress,"
"It’s not just a dress!" Lara insists. "Look at the skirt. Is that yellow? I’ve never seen such color underwater. I have to see it in person. Please, Mari, will you come to this ‘mall’ place with me?"
"I have training," she lies blithely. "And then running. And my dad will probably want my help to take fifty photos of the sunset, so I need to be around to—"
Lara pouts, resting her chin directly on Mari’s shoulder. Do mermaids not understand the concept of personal space? "Come on, it’ll be quick. We’ll get something for you too. Or I'll buy you one of those giant strawberry crepes you pretend you don't like.”
"She’s got you dead to rights, kid," Gon adds. "Take the bribe. Your defense was weak anyway."
"Fine," Mari grumbles, though it comes out far less stern than she intends. “We’ll go if you promise to behave. And since it’s going to be my money anyway, I am getting whatever crepe I damn well feel like."
The mall is a sensory nightmare. Between the blinding storefront signs, the smell of sweet bread wafting from the basement bakery, and the wall-to-wall crowd of afternoon shoppers, Mari feels her blood pressure rising by the second. Lara, on the other hand, looks as though she has just stepped into an alternate reality, which is saying something, considering where she actually came from.
At least Mari managed to shove the supersized strawberry crepe down her throat while Lara wasn’t looking.
"I can’t believe it," Lara gasps, shaking with excitement as she drags Mari by the wrist toward a boutique display. "There are so many beautiful items. I saw a mannequin wearing a tiny hat. Do human girls wear tiny hats often?”
"It's a beret, and no," Mari gently untangles her hand. "Keep up, Lara. If you get lost, I’m not calling your name over the mall intercom.”
"I think that’s the store from the magazine," Lara practically lunges through the glass double doors of Velvet & Bloom, ignoring the startled look from the teenage retail worker standing near the rack.
Mari trails behind her, keeping her hands stuffed deeply into her pockets. She watches as Lara walks between the clothing racks with natural grace, touching every pierce of fabric with utmost care.
She hates to admit it, but catching a breath of fresh air every once in a while is actually pretty nice. Midterms aren't until next week, so she still has plenty of time to study. Besides, her coach had practically begged her to take a day off, going so far as to threaten to tie her to a chair if she showed up to the gym again today. Rest days are mandatory if she wants to make any real progress in her boxing career, even if sitting still feels like a slow form of torture.
"Looking for anything in particular?"
A girl with immaculate winged eyeliner and a nametag reading Yuki is smiling at her, holding a stack of folded pastel cardigans. She glances from Mari’s athletic gear to the fitting room curtain where Lara had vanished just moments ago.
"Not for me,” she answers truthfully. “I’m not really into this kind of thing.”
"Ah, I see," Yuki says, her smile widening into something entirely too knowing. She lowers her voice, giving Mari a conspiratorial nod toward the curtain. "Shopping for your girlfriend? Long skirts are really in right now.”
"She's—we're not—" Mari chokes, her face instantly flushing a violent, crimson red that burns all the way to the tips of her ears. "It's not—she’s just a—a roommate! Really, she’s barely even my friend!”
Yuki blinks slowly, taking a step back. "Whoops, my mistake. Well, your roommate definitely has great taste. You two look really cute together."
Before Mari can formulate a coherent response, the fitting room curtain swishes open.
"How’s it look?" Lara calls out, stepping out onto the small carpeted platform.
The dress fits her perfectly. The hem swishes lightly around her knees, the white floral stitching framing her collarbones, and her crimson hair falls over her shoulders in soft, beachy waves. She’s a vision for sore eyes, giggling as she does a slow, graceful spin in front of the full-length mirror. “Do you like it?”
Mari’s about to die. “It’s fine.”
"You should try something on too," Lara walks over and grabs Mari by both wrists before she can take a single step.
"W-what?" Mari’s stance wavers completely. "What are you doing?"
"Look, I chose this one for you." Lara snatches a light blue sundress off a nearby hanger with her free hand. It has a similar silhouette to hers, complete with delicate shoulder straps and a flowing A-line skirt. "We have to match, Mari. You said you'd get something too.”
"I meant a shirt, or socks. I don't wear dresses, Lara—"
For a princess who has spent her entire life sleeping on a bed of roses, her grip is surprisingly ironclad. She shoves Mari straight into the fitting room, squeezing in right behind her and sliding the heavy curtain shut. Mari could swear she catches the clerk winking at her through the tiny gap in the fabric just before it closes completely.
Traitor, she thinks bitterly.
"Wait, get out! You can't be in here while I change," Mari backpedals until her spine hits the full-length mirror, her hands flying up in a frantic, terrible attempt at a guard.
"Hold still now," Lara laughs, completely ignoring Mari’s protests as she holds the blue dress up against her frame. She steps in closer, leaning down to smooth the skirt against Mari's track pants. "See? The blue brings out the color of your eyes. They’re so dark, like two black pearls.”
"Lara," Mari chokes out, holding her breath. "I am wearing sweatpants. I am not putting on a sundress."
"But you’ll look so pretty," Lara pouts, looking up at her through thick eyelashes, those impossibly bright blue eyes wide with hope. "Please? Just for five seconds? I’ve never seen you wear a dress before.”
Mari stares at the dress. Then at Lara.
"Five seconds." she says defeatedly.
Satisfied with her victory, Lara finally backs out of the changing room.
Mari offers a silent prayer to every Japanese god she can name as she shrugs off the jacket and slips the dress over her head. Once it’s settled, she shimmy-shakes out of her sweatpants, keeping her eyes strictly off her reflection in the full-length mirror.
It’s a weird feeling. She hasn’t worn a dress since her mom’s funeral—a painfully depressing thought to have in the middle of a brightly lit mall, so she buries it deep in the back of her mind. Instead, her brain instantly pivots to spiraling over what Lara is going to think.
It isn't that she hates skirts. The longer ones are fine, but aside from her school uniform, they aren't something she’d ever choose to wear. The dress fits surprisingly well, though, resting comfortably against her toned frame. She doesn’t look nearly as magical or princess-like as Lara, but she looks... fine. Just a normal human girl in a dress.
"This is it. Happy now?" Mari moans, stepping out from behind the curtain.
The first thing she sees are Lara and the store clerk standing together, clutching each other's hands and silently squealing with excitement. Lara, in particular, has a cute pink blush dusting her cheeks.
"We'll take both!" She yells, practically slamming Mari’s card onto the counter.
They do not take both dresses.
Mari marches straight back into the fitting room and changes out of the dress in record time. There was no way in hell she was letting Lara blow a ridiculous amount of money on a piece of clothing she would only ever wear while being held at gunpoint.
They leave the boutique twenty minutes later with only one fuchsia shopping bag in hand. Lara walking a few paces ahead, as usual, clutching her new outfit like a prized trophy.
“Thank you, Mari.” She turns, hugging the bag closer to her chest. “I’ll be sure to repay you once I get my kingdom back.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mari says. Though she might have to start picking up a few extra shifts at her part-time job if she plans to keep this up. “Do you even know how money works? Clams aren’t exactly worth anything in Japan.”
Lara laughs. “I had to learn it the hard way, but I guess humans would much rather have gold instead. I could also give you silver, if that’s better.”
Mari pauses, her tongue catching on the roof of her mouth. Gold. Because actual ocean royalty dealt in treasure chests, not contact-less card payments.
Mari wants to slap herself as she pushes through the glass doors of the mall into the late afternoon air.
"Right," Mari mutters. She holds the door open for Lara, mostly because she has the bad habit of walking face first into clear surfaces. "Let's just stick to yen for now. Less risk of getting audited."
It hasn’t even been a month, but it gets progressively easier to forget that Lara isn’t just some transfer student or an eccentric roommate who appeared in Mari’s life like a flash of lightning. She’s a banished princess. Her world was turned upside down, her family’s in danger, and the only way she’s ever going to reclaim her kingdom is by finding a prince—some destined, grand-heroic figure straight out of a storybook who could break the curse and win back her freedom.
Mari’s just the girl who lets her crash on her bed, nothing more than a stepping stone for Lara to be able to find her true love. She’s a high school student with a bad temper, not a prince.
A silly, fluttering crush born out of convenient closeness doesn’t compare. It never will. Lara has an entire kingdom counting on her, and Mari has midterms to study for.
"Come on," Mari nudges Lara's shoulder gently to keep her from walking straight into a streetlight. "We should go home.”
“Mari, can we hold hands on the way there?” She asks innocently.
For all the heavy self-reflection Mari’s done today, it surprisingly hasn’t made her any less of a pushover.
“Sure,” she wastes no time to interlock Lara’s long fingers with her own. Celebrate your small victories, like the philosophers say. Mari could win the fight, but never the war. “Whatever the princess needs.”
Yoshiya Otsu considers himself an expert on romance. Sure, he’s dated around a bit, but most of his expertise comes from absorbing endless hours of romance dramas with absurdly convoluted plotlines. Plus, just last semester, someone actually left a Valentine's Day card in his locker.
This, of course, is sacred knowledge his little sister can never know. Mari is a tough nut to crack. Hell, she doesn't even flinch when he teases her about boys from her school, she hasn't cried during a movie in her entire life, and only talks about boxing all day.
So when Lara and her entire fantasy world crashed into their lives, Yoshiya couldn’t help but be a little dazzled. Men are a weak species—he can admit that. Pretty, innocent girls with an enchanted view of the world are becoming scarce by the second. And Yoshiya isn’t dumb. He might as well shoot his shot while Lara still thinks he’s the coolest guy at school.
He decides to bring up the topic that same night at dinner.
“So, Lara-chan,” he says casually. “Found any signs of your prince yet?”
Lara chokes on a mouthful of miso soup. Meanwhile, Yoshiya's nerves are completely ruining his own appetite, but it’s now or never while Mari goes for a late-night run around the block.
“Uh—I’m not so sure.” She shoves a giant bite of rice in her mouth.
This is it, Yoshiya thinks. “Heh. Might be ‘cause you’re looking in all the wrong places,” he flashes what he hopes is a smooth, flirty smile. “You see, Lara-chan, sometimes your true love is much closer than you think.”
He slides a few centimeters closer to Lara. “Much closer.”
To his absolute delight, Lara instantly goes beet red. It’s a hilarious sight. Considering her hair is already the same color, she looks like a human (mermaid?) strawberry. She hunches forward, ducking her shoulders to hide her flushed face.
Yoshiya could almost weep with pride. Who knew Mari was capable of making such an adorable friend? He almost feels guilty for flustering the poor girl so easily.
“That’s the problem!” Lara squeaks out suddenly. She looks at him with wide, desperate eyes. “Yoshiya-san, can I ask you something?”
Yoshiya gulps, his heart performing backflips. “Y-yeah. Anything.”
Lara’s expression turns dead serious, her fiery blush draining away into a panicked, ghostly pale white as she glances at the front door.
“Yoshiya-san...” she whispers, her voice trembling. “C-can a girl be a prince, too?”
"A... a girl?" he repeats, his brain completely short-circuiting as he tries to process this newfound information. The smile melts off his face like cheap ice cream in July.
Lara nods frantically, clutching her rice bowl like a shield. "Yes! In the stories, the prince is always supposed to be a handsome gentleman who rescues the princess and rides off into the sunset on a white horse, right? A prince isn’t short, or scary, or has really bad fashion sense—”
There is only one person in a ten-mile radius who fits that ridiculously specific description.
"Lara," Yoshiya says, his voice cracking slightly as he points a trembling finger toward the hallway, where all of his sister’s embarrassing baby pictures sit on the wall. "Are you talking about Mari?"
Lara lets out a muffled squeak and buries her face in her hands. "I didn't mean for it to happen!" she wails softly into her palms. "I know I have to find a prince to break the curse and take back my kingdom, but every time I look for one, I just keep thinking about how cool Mari looks when she’s beating people up!”
She peeks out between her fingers. "Yoshiya-san, am I broken? Is the magic messing with my head?”
Yoshiya gets flashbacks to that morning. Mari eating cereal straight out of the box, then taking a heavy swig of milk right from the carton without even bothering to use a bowl.
"Lara-chan, magic hasn't broken your head—it’s completely obliterated your taste in people!"
Lara starts tearing up, sinking even lower into her seat. “I guess I’ll never see my family again. I’m doomed.”
Yoshiya opens his mouth to give her a reality check. He’s supposed to be the romantic lead here, or at the very least, the level-headed older brother who warns the girl away from his terrifying sibling.
But seeing Lara agonize like this breaks his heart. He might know nothing about underwater curses or royal prophecies, but he knows for sure that true love doesn’t care about insignificant details like gender. And if Mari is what she wants, then who is he to stop her?
"I’m sorry, Lara-chan," Yoshiya says softly, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I was being dumb.”
“Huh?”
"You're not doing anything wrong. True love exists in many different forms, not just a prince.”
Lara sniffles, blinking in confusion. "B-but the witch said—”
Yoshiya interrupts, waving a dismissive hand. "She didn't account for Mari. And honestly? If you need someone to fight off an evil hag or kick a villain's ass, I'd bet on my sister over a guy on a horse any day of the week."
A faint, watery laugh escapes Lara’s throat. "She is very strong.”
"Strong is an understatement.” Yoshiya says, leaning in closer across the table. "Besides, it's not like this is a one-way street. She does care about you a lot.”
"No way, Yoshiya-san." She shakes her head. "Mari just sees me as another responsibility. She says she has to hold my hand like a kid on the train so I won't get lost."
"Please," Yoshiya snorts. "Mari doesn't hold anyone's hand. She barely lets me hug her. Yet she lets you chatter away twenty-four seven and eats whatever weird meals you try to cook together. Trust me, I’m her big bro.”
"You think so?"
Yoshiya offers her a warm, surprisingly genuine smile. Perhaps flirting with cute girls isn’t his true calling after all. Maybe his real talent lies in playing the wise, dependable upperclassman who gives life-changing advice from the shadows.
"Yeah.” He smirks, tapping his chest proudly. "So forget all about those traditional rules. I’ll be your wingman from now on, you can ask me anything about Mari.”
They both go quiet when the front door suddenly rattles open.
"I'm back," a flat, winded voice calls from the hall.
Mari rounds the corner into the living room, wiping a damp towel over her sweat-drenched neck. Her dark hair is plastered to her forehead, grey hoodie practically dripping after her run. She takes off her headphones, then stares at Yoshiya and Lara sitting on the table with their bowls half-empty.
“What are you guys doing?" Mari asks, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "Yoshiya, why do you have that stupid look on your face?"
"Just keeping our guest company. Poor Lara looked so lonely.” He says dramatically.
Mari rolls her eyes and tosses her sweat-soaked towel onto the counter. "Sorry I’m late, Lara. Tell me if my useless brother starts annoying you."
"Not at all,” Lara fixes her hair, eyes drifting involuntarily to Mari’s collarbone. "Yoshiya-san was very helpful.”
Mari raises an eyebrow at that, shooting her brother one last warning glance before walking past him to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge.
Behind her back, Yoshiya winks at Lara. She gives him a thumbs-up in return.
“Gon-chan, did you hear my brother say anything weird to Lara?” Mari asks the next morning.
She feels a little ashamed having to sneak behind Lara’s back to gather information while the princess is busy doing her hair in the bathroom. Mari would have interrogated Gon earlier, since she wakes up at five every morning for a light jog. Except lately, that’s another routine Lara has insisted on matching. In another week, the girl might even be able to finish one of Mari’s basic training routines without passing out.
“How should I know?” The fish complains. “You keep me trapped in here like a pet, and don’t even bother to open the window when you go out. I could suffocate one day.”
"You’re a fish," Mari deadpans, staring down the grumpy creature. "You breathe underwater. Suffocation is literally the one thing you don't have to worry about."
"That is beside the point, you unpolished barbarian!" Gon-chan huffs, blowing a small stream of bubbles toward the glass. "Air quality affects the ambient humidity, and my scales are delicate. I used to be a powerful witch, you know—“
Mari sighs. She’s about to put a book on top of Gon’s tank when the bathroom door clicks open.
Lara steps out into the morning sunlight, damp hair secured in a loose side-braid. She’s wearing her new dress—with her cheeks still flushed from the exercise. Despite being near the brink of death an hour ago, she looks young, fresh, and impossibly cute.
Mari’s breath hitches in her throat for a fraction of a second. She quickly clears it, forcing her face back into a cool expression.
"Hey," She says. "Your legs aren't too sore after all those hill sprints?"
Lara shakes her head. "Well, they feel like jelly, but I’ve gotta get used to them sooner or later.”
Mari nods, folding her arms over her chest. "Still, don’t overdo it. You don't have to force yourself to keep up with my schedule every morning.”
"I'm not forcing myself!" Lara insists hastily, taking a step closer. She fidgets frantically with the lily flower woven into the end of her braid, looking so utterly terrified for a long moment that Mari thinks she might actually throw up.
“Mari?” Lara stammers out at last.
"Yeah?"
Lara looks up through her eyelashes. "May I hug you?"
Mari’s mouth falls open, completely caught off guard. She stares up at the trembling Lara, raising an eyebrow. Judging by their current dynamics, you’d never guess she’s at least two inches taller than Mari. “Lara, you’ve been clinging to my side like an octopus ever since you got here. You've never asked permission before. Why ask now?"
"Because,” Lara says, her hands balling into tight fists against the yellow fabric of her dress. Her chin quivers slightly, but her bright blue eyes are dead serious. "Before, I was just scared. But this time I want to do this properly. Because I want to hug you."
To be fair, Mari had only recently confirmed to Lara—in front of Himeka, no less—that they were actually friends. Maybe Lara was only now realizing she needed to be a bit more mindful around her. Or maybe the princess had finally noticed how tense Mari got whenever physical contact didn't involve punching or kicking someone in the ring.
"You're weird," Mari mutters, turning her head away to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. But she doesn't pull back. Instead, she steps forward and opens her arms. "Come here, then."
Lara immediately bends down, diving straight into Mari, wrapping her arms securely around her waist and burying her face into the crook of her neck.
Mari hesitates for a split second before choosing to place her hands on Lara’s back. Maybe hugs aren’t so bad. Tall, skinny girls are surprisingly nice to hold. Like a doll that might break if Mari were to squeeze with all her might.
After a long, quiet moment, Mari gives her a gentle tap on the back. "Lara, we’ve got places to be."
"Alright.” Lara says, finally pulling back with a smile that makes Mari’s chest tighten. Then, her features turn uncharacteristically serious. “Mari, I promise. I will become the best princess you could ever want.”
"Ooookay...Are you sure all that running didn’t—"
Lara’s plush lips press firmly against Mari’s right cheek. The princess immediately pulls back, her mouth opening and closing in panic as she desperately scans Mari’s utterly blank expression. Whatever she reads on her face is enough to send Lara over the edge. Quickly, she spins on her heel and makes a frantic run for the living room.
Mari stands still. Is she hallucinating? Slowly, almost reluctantly, she brings her hand up and presses two fingers against the burning spot on her cheek where Lara’s lips had been.
She strides straight past the entryway, stomps up to her brother's bedroom door, and kicks it wide open.
"Yoshiya!" Mari roars into the dimly lit room, her fists clenching white-knuckled at her sides. "You’re in so much trouble!"