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Jagae knew that, a few years back, the tattoo most people desperately longed for had appeared on her body, too. Truth be told, though, she couldn’t care less back then.
Even before reaching the age when the mark usually showed up, she had always insisted she would just ignore it; and that was exactly what she did. What’s more, as if her body wanted to make the task easier for her, the tattoo had appeared at the base of her neck, saving her from having to look at it constantly.
She considered herself extremely lucky, since for some, the mark could be outright traumatic.
One of her friends from the Dark Cacao Kingdom, for instance, had woken up overnight to find a massive white wolf’s face covering his entire left shoulder, framed by delicate silvery swirls and red berries.
Jagae had teased him about it, saying that at least Crunchy Chip would find it dead easy to recognise his soulmate, while secretly hiding her terror at the thought that, in a few months’ time, her own body could end up looking so radically different.
She had later heard that her friend had fallen for a warrior from another kingdom, but she hadn’t asked whether he shared the same tattoo.
To tell the truth, the whole bizarre phenomenon rubbed Jagae the wrong way. Another hopeless romantic like her would have spent every night dreaming about the moment she met her destined soulmate, but not her.
The thought that she would never truly have a choice, that she would never fall for someone just by chance, or out of pure chemistry, made her skin crawl.
On top of that, there was the bitter truth that some people never crossed paths with their soulmate at all. They ended up spending the rest of their lives alone, or settling for someone with a mismatched tattoo, carrying on unfulfilling relationships built on the cold certainty that their partner was definitely not the love of their life.
Spending the rest of her life loveless, living in a relationship plagued by a constant sense of something missing, or being “lucky” enough to have the choice taken out of her hands and meet her soulmate, those were her options.
And Jagae, especially the Jagae who had just turned twenty, wasn’t about to settle for any of the three.
So, when her guildmates told her where the tattoo had appeared, since she couldn’t see it herself, she refused to look at it. In fact, she had downright banned them from describing it to her.
And that was how it went on for five years, without her ever giving in to temptation, right up until that fateful morning.
She was standing at the sink in her private bathroom aboard her ship, staring at her own panting reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, holding a smaller mirror in a trembling hand.
She was shaking mostly out of anger rather than excitement; anger at those absurd rules the Witches had forced upon their little world, and anger at herself, because no matter how hard she had tried, she had never managed to ignore the tattoos completely.
Lately, she had caught herself dwelling on other people’s marks more often than ever. Colleagues, clients, passers-by; inevitably, her eyes would end up searching every bare patch of skin for the design that sealed their fate in love.
It was easier with some than with others; certain people were so desperate to be found that they had altered their clothes just to keep their tattoo on full display, whether it was on their back, their thighs, or anywhere else that could easily be covered up.
At first, it was just a game to Jagae. She liked looking at the designs and imagining what kind of people they represented, or what unlikely matches the Witches had devised for them. But then, she started wondering if, amidst those stories drawn in ink, hers might be hiding, too.
She had walked past drawings of ships, pearls and butterflies, never knowing if she had already crossed paths with her soulmate.
Once, she had even joked around with Captain Caviar, whose chest was so packed with gorgeous tattoos that his soulmate mark could have been literally any of them, but he had pointed to a ship bearing a large, iridescent pearl.
Jagae had laughed when the old Captain told her that, if he hadn’t already found his lady, he would’ve undoubtedly thought of her.
She, however, would have ruled that out straight away, given that the only thing she knew about her own tattoo was that it was very small – much to her relief.
Yet, she had reached the point where everything she hated about that magic had caught up with her, too. The expectation, the searching, and the haunting fear that she had missed out on something important.
So, she gave in. In total secrecy, she pushed her hair to the side, bent her arm to position the little mirror behind her head, and leaned as close as she could to the mirror over the sink, determined to catch every possible detail from the reflection.
Out of all the possibilities she had envisioned, the tattoo matched none of them.
The part of the tattoo that represented her, or so she assumed, was a pastel teal shell, the kind shaped like a tulip bulb, with a colour strikingly similar to her hair accessories. Wrapped around the shell, she noticed with a twinge of confusion, was a simple red ribbon.
Jagae stepped back from the mirror, feeling vaguely let down. Perhaps all those years spent imagining her own tattoo had set her expectations just a bit too high.
◆◇◆
Her meeting with the Manju Guild took place a few months later.
Jagae couldn’t remember the last time a spat with another merchant had gotten under her skin so badly, so she marched right up to him to give him a piece of her mind.
Inevitably, even while fuming with irritation, her eyes scanned his body in search of that mark, more out of habit than any genuine interest in the Buttershell Fox, but he caught her in the act.
«My, Captain, are you really that furious deep down, or are you just looking for an excuse to get closer? Are you searching for something?»
His voice was warm, deep, and genuinely amused. It triggered such a rush of irritation – and sheer embarrassment – that her cheeks turned bright crimson.
«I don’t give a damn ‘bout you! Just stay the hell away from my guild and my wares!»
Jagae was only just getting started, but the Guildmaster raised his hands in surrender.
«Do not fret, I have got my hands full» he said, maintaining that same charming tone. Then, he gestured to the bandages wrapped around his chest. «Besides, do not trouble yourself. Mine is well hidden. I see no point in leaving such delicate and private information on full display in the public square. Still, I am surprised it piques your interest, considering you do not seem to show yours off either.»
«I don’t, and like I said, I couldn’t care less. Just stay away!» she snapped as a parting shot, without it ever crossing her mind, even for a split second, to dwell on the Red Knot.
◆◇◆
As time went on, it seemed as though the Witches found it increasingly amusing to intertwine the fates of the two guilds in ever more blatant ways.
One of Jagae's best guildmates, a girl just a bit younger than her, had found her soulmate among the ranks of the Red Bean Harbor merchants, a quiet Buttershell Fox who had been standing beside Manju while the latter was arguing with Jagae. That was when the two of them had caught sight of each other and seen their marks, and there was absolutely nothing either Guildmasters could do about it.
After that episode, relations between the two guilds seemed to soften a little, at least among the crews, while the two captains continued to provoke each other at every given opportunity.
Perhaps simply to push the two of them even further, the Witches blessed the third officer of the Jagae Guild with a tattoo that visibly resembled a red fox.
When the Manju Guild found out, everyone instantly turned their eyes to a girl in their own guild – a girl still a few years too young to bear a mark, but whom everyone would have bet money on regarding what hers would turn out to be.
And Jagae, reluctantly, was among those who believed the two would end up being soulmates; finding one’s destined match before both had even reached the age for the mark was a rare occurrence indeed, but those two were blatantly a match made in oven.
One evening, while both guilds were in the same tavern, the crew members were still talking about the situation, much to the extreme embarrassment of the two involved. Jagae and Manju, meanwhile, had stepped out onto the terrace – him to smoke, and her to escape the noise, a glass of juice in hand.
She was leaning against the railing, just as she always did on her ship, watching the rooftops shrink into the distance, fading into the night as the streetlights grew sparse and the moon alone faintly outlined their silhouettes.
«And that makes four of them already. My, what were the odds!» Manju was saying between puffs. «Do you think it’s time we checked ours, too?» he asked, stepping closer to her and resting his hands just beside her arms.
She stiffened. «And why on earth would we do that?» she asked, without meeting his gaze.
«Aren’t you curious?»
«I don’t know how I’d react if they matched. I reckon I might end up flayin’ my own skin off» she shot back sarcastically, resisting the urge to reach for the nape of her neck and give away her tattoo’s exact location.
But as he let out a soft laugh, Jagae felt her heart race in her chest. The only reason she didn’t want to know was that she was terrified they wouldn’t match at all.
◆◇◆
Jagae would never admit it out loud, but Manju had grown on her.
He certainly got on her nerves – getting under her skin even when she had a crush on him must have been a natural talent of his – but over the course of more than a year of bickering and trading letters, she had fallen for him.
Every now and then, she would creep back to the bathroom mirror to check on her tattoo, gazing at the red ribbon wrapped around the shell and wondering if it truly represented that red ribbon.
More often than not, a design could be open to multiple interpretations, much like Captain Caviar’s, though there were just as many cases where there was no room for doubt, as with her third officer. Now that Manju’s deck cadet had come of age, that match had been officially confirmed.
Yet, what kept her second-guessing was the fact that both of her guildmates who had ended up with the two Buttershell Foxes, bore marks with clear nods to their features.
Jagae, on the other hand, had only the ribbon, and she was far too terrified of finding out that it wasn’t enough.
◆◇◆
The Grandberry Festival was as chaotic as ever, with children darting back and forth to the rhythm of songs echoing in the distance, drifting first from one stage, then another.
Jagae had dragged Manju away from the stalls, and they were strolling around the large, circular fountain in the middle of the square where the paths to the stages intersected.
«Why must you always show off? It’s very rude of you!»
«My, Jagae, I was merely doing market research. You are the one who made a scene!» the Buttershell Fox replied nonchalantly.
A group of children, little scamps who had escaped their parents’ watchful eyes, dashed right between their legs at that exact moment, nearly causing the two Guildmasters to lose their footing.
While Manju helped Jagae regain her balance by catching her by the arm, one of the kids ran up to the fountain and started splashing water all around to hit his friends, catching the captains in the crossfire.
The front of Jagae’s jeogori got completely soaked, while Manju watched the entire right side of his body get drenched, kimono and all.
Jagae was already bracing herself to scold the kid, but when she looked up, instead of meeting the face of her rival – who was still standing close, holding her arm – her gaze landed on a spot on his chest.
There, the water had soaked through the white bandages he always wore, making them cling to him and revealing the skin underneath. And right there, she saw the tattoo.
Manju followed her eyes and realised what she was staring at. Letting go of her arm, he hurriedly pulled his kimono shut over his chest. Jagae had never seen him wear it properly done up.
A few seconds ticked by before he whispered, «did you... did you see it?»
«I...» Jagae could barely catch her breath, as though all the blood had rushed to her cheeks, leaving her heart without enough to pump to her lungs, making it hammer wildly against her ribs in protest.
«Yes... I saw it...» she finally managed to reply.
Manju parted his lips to say something else, but closed them again, perhaps waiting for something that never came. Jagae watched his tail droop and his ears flatten against his head.
«Well, Captain, it seems I no longer have any secrets from you» he said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
◆◇◆
That day, the storm seemed to have no mercy on the poor merchants and privateers it had caught unawares out at sea.
«Haul down the sails!» Jagae was shouting, struggling to make herself heard over the roar of the wind and the rain whipping at her face. «Hard to port, or we risk capsizing!»
«Yes ma’am!» the guild shouted back in unison, carrying out the captain’s orders.
Jagae ran towards the railing of the Iridescent Wave, yelling, «that goes for you too! There are sea stacks further ahead!»
The Manju Guild, aboard the Red Knot, was eagerly taking her advice, given that Jagae had successfully steered both ships out of storms time and time again.
She didn’t blame Manju for lacking the same seamanship; storms like this were hardly ever seen outside the Licorice Sea or the Duskgloom Sea, and Jagae was an expert in at least one of the two.
When they finally broke free, the waves calmed down and the vessels resumed cruising smoothly over the water, allowing Jagae to breathe a proper sigh of relief at last.
«If you’re going to throw up, do it overboard! And then all of you, head down to the hold to dry off properly!» she commanded as her final order before heading for her cabin at the base of the poop deck.
She had barely tossed her jeogori onto the floor – soaked through to every last fibre, instantly regretting it as her wet hair slapped against her back in heavy, clingy strands – when a knock sounded at the door.
«Payment can be made to the Jagae Guild, right?» greeted Manju, standing in her doorway with a jingling pouch, soaked hair, tail, and clothes – and his tattoo on display, which, unlike the week before, he hadn’t bothered to hide. Besides, Jagae thought, his guild must have known what it was for a long time.
«Are you really that eager to pay me, Mandu? Is this a declaration of surrender? Are you admitting my guild is the best?»
He laughed, and she felt her heart warm.
Right after what had happened at the Grandberry Market, a heavy silence had fallen between them, stretching well into the next day. Jagae had spent a sleepless night asking herself what she should do, what she ought to say to him, and how, all under the pressing urgency that if she didn’t act immediately, they would drift apart.
Yet, unexpectedly, two days later Manju had gone back to talking as though nothing had happened – if anything, acting closer to her than before – and together they had set sail from the Hollyberry Kingdom towards the Crème Republic, until the weather had slowed them down.
«Oh, no, your wares still pale in comparison to ours» Manju resumed. «However, when it comes to steering a ship, you know I have no qualms about calling you the finest sailor I know. So, here’s your payment for bringing us out of the storm unharmed.»
Jagae rolled her eyes, but smiled at him nonetheless. «Fair enough. Come in, I’ll write you up a receipt. Just don’t drip all over my paperwork!» she stepped aside to let him pass.
Closing the door, she turned her back on him to walk towards the chest where she kept her ledger paper. She had just bent down to look inside when she felt a hand grab her shoulder and pull her back.
«What the–» she managed to say before feeling hands brushing her hair aside, and the cold air caressing her exposed neck.
Jagae was fast, but not fast enough. She shook her shoulder to break free from his grip – which hadn’t been firm to begin with – and readjusted her hair to cover the nape of her neck, turning round to face Manju.
Were the Witches tired of waiting for her to make a move? Was Manju angry?
«I...» Jagae started, but whatever she had intended to say died on her lips.
His brow was furrowed, looking more confused than angry.
«And here I was thinking… why didn’t you tell me?»
A simple question, but the answer, at least for Jagae, was anything but.
«I don’t know» she finally replied, folding her arms across her chest as she stared down at her crumpled jeogori on the floor.
Manju took a step closer and brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Jagae shivered at his touch.
He didn’t speak. Whether he was waiting for her to say something first, or trying to find the words himself, Jagae couldn’t tell, but she felt the tension building up until her palms began to tingle. She took a deep breath, and then, before her pride could get the better of her, she poured out everything she hadn’t been able to say.
«Look, we know how these things work, don’t we? You meet someone, tell them your name and what tattoo you have, right? It’s just... it felt strange. We’ve known each other for longer, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all...» she rambled, barely taking a breath. «And since I didn’t say anything back then, the longer I waited, the weirder it got… I couldn’t just bring it up out of nowhere!»
«Were you disappointed?»
Jagae shifted her eyes from the floor to the man in front of her. There wasn’t a single trace of anger in that question either; only a low, hushed tone that rarely belonged to the charming merchant.
«What?» she asked, stunned.
He offered a soft, genuine smile, tinged with melancholy. «You once told me that if you ever found out our tattoos matched, you’d flay your own skin off. Am I to assume you’ve changed your mind, or did you spare yourself only because you can’t reach the spot?»
She blushed furiously. «It’s been a long time since I said that...»
At those words, Manju’s tail lifted off the floor and began to sway gently, scattering stray drops of water.
«So, may I assume you’ve had a change of heart?»
«And what difference does it make what I think?» Jagae countered, dodging the question. «It’s a match, so there’s not much to think about anyway. The Witches decided this a long time ago–»
«The Witches can burn in the First Oven for all I care» he interrupted with a shrug.
It was a downright brutal statement to Jagae, who had never heard him speak like that before.
«Jagae» he continued, his voice lacing her name with a brand-new tenderness. «If you really must know, and as things stand, I might as well tell you, it wouldn’t have changed a single thing for me if your mark had been different.»
Jagae’s eyes widened slightly as her mind raced, trying to grasp the implications of those words.
«Changed?» she echoed.
Manju nodded, his previous smile turning into an amused smirk. «Is the meaning of the word unfamiliar to you?»
Jagae bristled at his smug air, which had completely wiped away his solemn mood from a moment ago, and took a step back.
«Oh, drop it! You know what hasn’t changed? Just how easily you manage to irritate me!» he let out a low chuckle, but she ignored the flutter his laugh caused in her chest. «And you know what else won’t change? I have no intention of going easy on you just because of some stupid tattoo! Don’t go expecting me to soften up!»
«Well, that's a relief. That’s precisely what I love about you.»
All the colour that had rushed to Jagae’s cheeks drained instantly.
«You... what?» she asked, unsure if she had heard correctly.
«I already like you. Regardless of the tattoo, I couldn’t care less about it. Though» he added, and for the very first time Jagae caught the pink flush creeping onto her rival’s cheeks, «I would like to know if you feel the same, or if whatever happens from here on out is something I must attribute purely to magic» he concluded with a bitter smile.
Jagae stood in silence. Her gaze lingered on his familiar face, on the wet hair shifting just enough to reveal the eye he usually kept concealed, and on the broad, solid frame that made her chest tighten.
Without casting another glance at Manju’s mark, she stepped forward, closing the distance she had just put between them.
«Don’t tease me about this...» she murmured. «I didn’t tell you it was a match partly because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you disappointed, ‘kay? That’s it. I said it. Hope you’re happy now.»
It was his turn to blink in surprise. «Disappointed?»
Jagae couldn’t pass up the opportunity. «What’s wrong? Is the meaning of the word unfamiliar to you?» she mimicked.
He looked at her with an unreadable expression, and as she tried to put a name to it, he spoke «very well, allow me to clarify all your doubts.»
Then, without another word, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Jagae’s brain simply short-circuited, and she kissed him back driven by something that went far beyond mere rational thought.
When he drew his lips away from hers, it took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and the more her mind registered the lingering sensation of the kiss, the more her heart skipped a beat.
«You–» she stammered, «you–» but nothing coherent came out.
She had never seen Manju look so amused. «My deepest apologies, Captain. I was merely trying to express myself as clearly as possible. I do hope this won’t prevent you from writing up that receipt you invited me into your cabin for in the first place» he said, licking his lips – a tiny detail that instantly snapped her back to reality.
«You know where you can shove that receipt, you absolute–» but she didn’t even get to finish that sentence either, as Manju placed a hand on her back, drawing her close once more, while his other hand guided her face back to his, pressing her lips against his.
«Listen, I love who you are, but do you think it might be possible to soften up just a little? At least behind closed doors?» he asked, still a whisper away from her face.
While Jagae’s neurons finally fired back into place, she wrapped her arms around Manju’s neck.
«I’ll make you pay for this» she told him, smiling at him like she never had before.
Manju shook his head in mock defeat, returning her smile. «I had to give it at least one try.»
What strange ways the Witches had of entertaining themselves.