Chapter Text
“A love… potion?” Lara stares at the small, brown satchel floating aimlessly in Grace’s tank. It’s sealed shut with a rope tightly wound around the top, adorned with a small paper tag that reads ‘Do not attempt to inhale the contents.’
“That’s right,” Grace nods. “I was hiding it in case an emergency arose. But clearly, you need it.”
Such generosity coming from her aunt couldn’t possibly be just because. Lara reaches in to retrieve it from the water, holding her breath when the pouch comes out entirely dry.
“I-I don’t understand, Lady Witch. Isn’t this going against the rules of the contract?”
“Listen to me, little girl. That magical powder is your shortcut. It will lead you right to your prince—and frankly, I am sick and tired of swimming around in circles as a damn fish! Don’t you want your family back?” Grace replies in an authoritative tone.
Her eyes reflect a nefarious twinkle toward Lara that gives her a slight stomachache. It’s not easy carrying the burden of being the sole reason why there’s no longer a mermaid kingdom to come back to. It’s even harder to think about how she’s the only hope to get it back.
This isn’t the first time. If Grace’s bottomless gaze isn’t enough to trigger her recall, then the beautiful view of the lake she has from Mari’s window certainly does every single morning.
Grace swims to the top of the tank, poking her head just above the surface.
“All you have to do is mix it with water and give it to whoever you see fit. It’ll make them fall head over heels for you, probably enough to demand your hand in marriage on the spot.”
“Marriage?” Well, Lara supposes that is the entire purpose of the quest for love. She’s going to get married at some point either way, so it doesn’t matter if it’s now or a few years down the line. At least, that’s what she tries to tell herself. But the thought of binding her life to some stranger leaves Lara with a cold, hollow ache right in the center of her chest. It doesn’t feel like the fairy-tale ending she’s always pictured, more like the walls are closing in on her.
Grace clicks her tongue. “Unless you aren’t so keen on leaving this cozy little land setup.”
“That’s not true!”
“Don’t play innocent with me.” Grace hums. “You’ve gotten awfully comfortable playing house these past few weeks. But let’s be real, Lara, this can’t possibly last forever.”
Lara’s fingers tighten around the small satchel until her knuckles turn white. It’s been a month since she was launched headfirst into the human world. And yet she’s made zero progress toward finding a human boy fit to be her prince. And wasn't that the entire point? Wasn't that the only reason she traded her tail in the first place?
She tugs nervously at the seams of Mari’s flannel pajama bottoms, which pull a little too tight across her thighs. As the nights in Shiga turned colder, Mari also gave her an old hoodie to wear inside the house, just to be safe. Lara likes it more than she thought she would. It’s a deep blue with kanji she can’t read stamped on the front, and it has a clean, citrus scent clinging around the entire neckline. She has the slight suspicion it's best not to mention that last part in front of her roommate.
Back in the water, there was no cold. There were no hoodies. There was also no Mari.
Alas, Lara has a job to do. Perhaps the prince will allow her to keep visiting the Otsu family after their wedding. Then, she can bring Mari all of the cake her heart desires. “I’ll do it, Lady Witch.” She secures the tiny bag inside the pocket of Mari’s hoodie. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get the kingdom back.”
“Attagirl.” Grace bellows.
The next morning, Lara wakes up as soon as the sun rises. She’s going to follow through on her promise no matter what, or else the Lady Witch might cut off her tongue again, and then how else would she tell Mari all about the new drama she and Yoshiya have been watching?
She decides to pour the satchel’s contents into one of Mari’s old gym bottles. It’s a faded black one with a metal cap that she doesn’t seem to use anymore; at least, Lara’s never seen her carrying it around. The only container Mari ever uses is a green plastic cup, which she fills with a mysterious milky liquid and drinks every single day after her run, without fail.
Lara fills the bottle to the brim with tap water and gives it a vigorous shake, watching the liquid dissolve into a clear, innocent-looking mixture. After giving it a gentle sniff, she notices it doesn’t smell either. Now all she has to do is bring it to school and decide what her next step is going to be.
Her previous prince had a pale complexion, with blonde hair, soft blue eyes, and a tall, slender frame that reminded Lara of a delicate lily. When she had wrapped her arms around him and hauled his deadweight back onto the shore, she had been terrified his fragile ribs might snap under her grip. But that was a lifetime ago, and Lara realizes her tastes have drastically changed since becoming human for the second time. She would much rather be with someone built sturdy and athletic, cool-headed enough to anchor her to the earth whenever Lara’s feeling uneasy. And if he happened to be a little shorter than her, it would certainly make kissing much easier.
She shakes the thought from her head, carefully setting the bottle on the counter. First things first: a shower.
🌊❤️🥊
Lara steps out of the bathroom ten minutes later with a towel draped over her shoulders, only to freeze mid-stride at the threshold of the kitchen.
What she sees is Mari standing by the counter, her dark hair still damp with sweat, sticking to the nape of her neck in thin strands. She has shorts on today, which Lara can’t help but ogle at since, well, Mari has nice legs. Before she can even open her mouth to greet her, Mari absentmindedly reaches for the black bottle—Lara’s bottle—, and brings it to her lips. Lara watches helplessly as Mari tilts her head back and drinks the whole thing down in three long gulps.
“Ah.” Mari exhales, satisfied. She wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Morning, Lara.”
Lara’s voice is a papery thrum in her throat. “You...” She points a trembling finger at Mari. “You drank all of it.”
“Yeah.” Mari squints at her, leaning an elbow back against the edge of the sink. “What’s with that look? It was just some water. Tasted metallic, though. I think Yoshiya tried to steal my protein powder again.”
Lara bites her lip, and considers her options. She has about five seconds until Mari turns into a mindless zombie devoted entirely to loving Lara, at least according to the witch’s instructions. She could jump back into lake Biwa and drown like she was supposed to on that rainy day, maybe then she could wake back up in another hundred years and try her luck again. Although, if Mari were to become obsessed with her, she might try to follow. She can’t possibly allow that to happen.
Baffingly, though, Mari remains solidly composed, even more so than Lara. Judging by her furrowing brows, and the thinning line of her mouth, the potion might actually be making her angry, but you’d barely know it to look at her. Lara doesn’t know if this is more worrying or comforting, but it’s certainly both, and she can’t help but overthink what might be going on in the girl’s head.
Before long, Mari is standing right in front of her. Up close, it’s impossible not to notice the pink flush adorning her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Mari cranes her neck upwards to study Lara, eyes trailing down to the oversized shirt clinging to Lara’s collarbone, then back up to the red curls heavy with water.
“Lara, you’re dripping everywhere.” Mari reaches out and takes the wet towel from Lara’s shoulders. “Let me dry your hair. You’re gonna catch a cold, idiot.”
Lara’s too busy looking for any sign that her friend's mind isn't her own anymore. “Mari, are you feeling alright?”
Mari’s eyes soften. “I should be the one asking you that.” She turns away, pulling Lara by the wrist through the hall. Once inside the bedroom, she rummages through a couple drawers from the vanity until she finds a small artifact with a chord attached at the bottom. Lara belatedly recognizes it as a hairdryer, one of the multiple electronic appliances she’s still too scared to use on her own.
She signals for Lara to come closer, then immediately drops down on one knee. For a moment, Lara thinks the potion did work, and has a mini-heart attack—at least until Mari reaches past her ankles, plunging the black cord straight into the wall socket with a click.
With whatever pride she has left, Lara does as she’s told, and takes a seat in front of her.
Mari’s fingers find the rebellious red strands on her head soon enough. This isn’t the first time she’s done this for Lara, so she doesn’t think much of it. Her touch is always gentle, but firm, as her fingers comb through a knot here and there. “Sorry if I drank your…water or whatever. You seemed really upset about it.”
She almost doesn’t hear Mari over the hot air blowing out the machine. “It’s fine,” And it’s not like she can get it back either way. She’ll simply have to wait and see if Mari shows any concerning symptoms, and find a way to fix her before anyone else notices. She wonders, briefly, if human girls are somehow immune to the potion, since it’s made to find a prince, not a princess. “But, Mari, don’t you have any fever? Dizziness? Aren’t you…” in love with me?
“Actually, I do feel kind of warm.” Mari finally turns off the hairdryer. She presses the back of her hand against her forehead, then her cheeks. “It’s probably nothing, though.”
Mari moves back, stands up, and dusts off her shorts with a quiet sigh, her gaze shifting toward the tank where Grace is still sleeping soundly. “Anyway, I need to feed her before she wakes up, or she’ll start complaining.” She reaches for the fish flakes on the table and begins sprinkling them over the water in a practiced circular motion.
Lara had almost forgotten all about her aunt’s terrifying presence. She couldn’t find out about her slip-up, otherwise she’ll rat her out to Mari, and that’s basically kissing their entire friendship goodbye. She scrambles to stand and grabs Mari by the wrist. “I can feed her! Just—just go take your time in the shower.”
“Are you sure? Last time I saw you put some bread in there. I don’t want her to get fat—”
Lara practically shoves Mari out the door. It takes a lot more effort than it looks. “Absolutely! I’ll wait until the Lady Witch wakes up to give her all the fish food she so desperately craves.”
Mari arches an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unconvinced, but doesn’t bother to argue. “Fine.”
To be fair, Lara actually uses the extra time to make herself presentable. She sits in front of the vanity, carefully dividing her thick red hair into sections to weave into her usual braid. She tugs on the freshly ironed uniform shirt, buttoning it up to the collar, and smooths down the blue pleats of her skirt. After a few minutes, though, she stops paying attention altogether, her mind drifting off as she stands blankly staring at the worn boxing gloves and hand wraps stacked in Mari’s closet. She makes a mental note to ask Yoshiya if boxing stars are allowed to get married.
“So, did you get it done?” Grace asks from the tank. She makes Lara jump half a foot into the air, nearly cracking her head open against the sharp wooden corner of the wardrobe.
“Not yet, Lady Witch,” Lara stammers out, barely managing a quick, nervous nod as she edges away from the closet door. “Mari and I are just leaving for school. You know… that place where all the young humans gather.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” She complains. “Hey, pour me some of those flakes, will ya? I’m starving.”
Lara doesn't need to be told twice. Eager for any excuse to keep her hands busy and her eyes off Grace's glare, she quickly snatches the plastic container off the table. Her fingers are trembling so hard the plastic rattles, but she manages to pop the lid and shake a generous dusting of brown and orange flakes over the surface of the water.
“All ready!” She hears Mari announce from the living room.
She gives Grace a double-handed thumbs-up, trying her absolute best to look like a competent co-conspirator before she literally runs away from the source of her problems. Why must her aunt always rope her into making the dumbest decisions? Suddenly, she really misses her dad. He wouldn’t have allowed any of this to happen.
🌊❤️🥊
“Here,” Mari gives her a can of hot chocolate. It’s never hot, lukewarm at best, considering that the big, square machines holding all the drinks don’t seem to take proper temperature into consideration. Either way, Lara’s grateful to receive any gift, especially coming from Mari. “For drinking your weird water.”
Lara holds the can close to her chest instead of opening it. They’re hiding in the shadowy alcove behind the gym storage room. Lara legally doesn’t exist, which means she isn’t allowed inside any actual classrooms. When Mari’s dad first explained that she’d need a birth certificate to enroll, he had belly laughed after Lara innocently clarified that she and her sisters were born from oysters, not hospitals.
“You didn’t have to,” Lara murmurs, tracing the cold aluminum rim with her thumb. The sweet gesture only makes the guilty knot in her gut twist tighter. She looks up, her eyes wide with a sudden, desperate plea. “Hey, Mari... how about you stay with me today? I get so lonely waiting around until recess.”
Mari deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t push it. I’ve got exams all through the first period. I’ll tell Himeka to drop by as soon as she can, but I’m not throwing my grades away to entertain you.” She leans against the wall with her eyes closed. “On top of that, my head is killing me.”
Lara gulps. Obviously, Mari doesn’t feel good. What she first dismissed as a healthy flush from Mari’s demanding training regime now looks like splotchy patches spreading along her neck and face. She even stumbled a little up the stairs of the school, and Mari never stumbles.
“But I want you to stay with me,” Lara cringes at herself.
“No means no, Lara.”
“But you’re not feeling well.”
Mari lets out a heavy groan, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples as if trying to physically hold her brain together. “Just drink your stupid chocolate. I’m fine.”
Taken aback, Lara decides it’s ultimately better to shut her mouth. She waits until Mari pulls open the heavy doors of the storage room, stepping aside just enough to grant her entry.
It’s the same as every other day. There are gym mats stacked along one wall like giant foam sandwiches, while worn wooden vaulting horses and discarded athletic hurdles lay on a separate corner. There was one time Lara found a couple orange balls thrown about, so she tried bouncing them off her feet like in those sports matches where men run in circles. It was incredibly painful (apparently, orange balls are for throwing and black-and-white ones are for kicking), reason why now Lara is too afraid to try out any other sport other than jogging with Mari.
She walks directly to the big window on the side of her new prison. It points directly to the yard, giving her full-view of a beautiful tree and the wooden benches sitting under its shade. At least she can spy on the students in P.E class from here.
“How long will your ‘exams’ take?” She asks softly.
“You’re relentless.” Jokes on her, Lara doesn’t know what that word means. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Fair enough. But Mari is remarkably bad at taking care of herself, and Lara knows it. In all the time Lara’s been living with her, Mari has never slowed down, not even once. Lara doesn’t know exactly what she’s pushing herself so hard for, only that it has something to do with a big tournament at the end of the month.
Lara shakes her head frantically. “Mari, I-I might’ve done something—”
Mari gives her a pointed look, adjusting her backpack strap over her shoulder. “Don’t forget to lock the door once I’m out.”
And so, Lara watches as Mari gets lost in the crowd of oncoming students. Surely there is something she can do to make sure the potion hasn’t made any permanent damage inside of the human girl’s body. So far, she’s got a high temperature, but nothing that could indicate she’s going to offer her life to Lara any time soon.
Going by that logic, it’s safe to deduce that Grace’s love potion doesn’t work as quickly on a woman as it would on a man. But there’s only one person she can actually ask to confirm her theory—the only man Lara actually knows.