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Mari Otsu has a problem.
"You're being dramatic," says Gon-chan, in response to Mari's explanation of said problem.
Mari is a lot of things—tough, pragmatic, occasionally brash, sometimes dumb—but dramatic isn't one of them.
"I'm not."
Gon-chan responds with a bored, disbelieving hum. But she doesn't push any further. It's one of the many things Mari's grown to like about Gon-chan: despite being a talking fish, she knows when to leave a conversation. Or perhaps it's her way of returning the respect Mari has for her boundaries—never asking questions like why did you eat all of that cake or where on earth did you come from or, you know, how are you even able to talk.
Lately, though, Gon-chan has been a bit chattier than usual, so Mari doesn't realize that she'd been expecting more from their exchange until her own mouth opens again.
"Why did I even agree to this," she mutters, hands clenching her skirt. They itch with the urge to punch something—a bag, an opponent, or maybe just her own self from the day before, unthinking and blissfully unaware of the consequences of her actions as she said:
"You'd have to date or something first."
To which Lara had replied—unexpectedly, inexplicably, but a part of Mari tells her that she should have seen this coming: "Then we have to practice dating—Mari, become a prince!"
Why did she tell Lara it was too early for cohabitation anyway? As if she hadn't carried Lara to her bedroom the evening they met. As if Lara hadn't spent every night in Mari's futon, just within arm's reach. They even went to the grocery together, for goodness' sake.
"You know why," Gon-chan says, apparently finding the whole ordeal amusing.
"Do I."
"You are going to help Lara find true love," Gon-chan tells her, encouraging.
Again with true love. Mari's convinced they've both lost their minds. Then again, she's the one somehow trapped in the middle of the absurd schemes of two talking fish, so maybe she isn't really one to talk.
"I should have just let them live in a castle together," she mutters, and stands up just to use all that excess energy in her body for something. She's halfway to grabbing her phone and going for a quick jog, long skirt and flats be damned, when a voice echoes from behind the bathroom door.
"Mari! Could you come help me, please?"
And here is the crux of the problem: Mari, much to her dismay, has begun having trouble saying no to Lara.
"Coming," she calls back, and tries her best to ignore Gon-chan's smug glub glub glub in the background. The bathroom door is left slightly ajar, but she knocks twice anyway.
"You can come in!" Lara squeaks, so Mari does. She's met with a cloud of steam so thick she can taste it. Sweat immediately begins to bead on her skin.
"What are you doing?"
Lara spins around from where she's standing in front of the mirror. Her hair is a nebula of red around her, uncharacteristically damp and frizzy as if she'd just ran through a thunderstorm. The brush in her hand is thoroughly covered in thick, tangled strands.
"Ummm…" She tries for a reassuring smile, but it just comes out as a grimace. "I wanted to do something different with my hair today, but it doesn't usually get wet the way I want it to, so I tried changing the water settings a bit…" Her voice dies off in embarrassment.
Mari looks up at the heater, set to a piping 41 degrees. Not too hot to scald, but warm enough to border on uncomfortable. She makes a mental note to check the gas bill later, in case Lara asks her to buy something ridiculous again like another dozen packs of baumkuchen. "So."
"So, my hair's a mess," Lara huffs. "And I don't want it to be a mess for our date!"
The words our date make something funny turn in Mari's stomach, like she'd accidentally lurched forward after swinging too hard. "Good thing it's just practice, then."
Lara pouts, evidently still unappeased. "But if I'm already messing up now," she reasons, "what's to say I won't mess up during my date with the prince?"
"Nah, you're fine," Mari says, stepping closer to tuck a stray lock behind Lara's ear. "The prince will probably be a little clumsy, too."
When she steps away, Lara's face is so red it almost matches her hair.
"Do you think you could help me with my braid?"
Mari shrugs. "Sure. I've never had long hair, though, so you'll have to tell me what to do."
"Really?" Lara asks as Mari sits her in front of her desk and examines the brush in her hand. "I guess short hair does suit you, Mari."
Mari hums, careful as she runs her brush through Lara's locks. Her hair is voluminous, textured; the weight of it feels nice in Mari's hands.
It's also really tangled, though. Lara lets out a yelp as the brush catches on one particularly thick knot.
Mari drops the brush. "Yikes. My bad."
"No, no, it's okay, keep going." Lara's voice grows soft. "I trust you."
Mari swallows. "Okay," she says, moving to pick up the brush again before deciding against it. Instead, she uses her own hands to part through the thick waves of Lara's hair. Lara all but melts into her touch, sighing.
When she finishes, she ties the braid off with Lara's favorite hair tie, the waterlily a striking white against the scarlet. "There you go."
Lara stands, and Mari finds herself momentarily disarmed by the way she suddenly towers over Mari, smiling sweetly down at her with shining eyes. "Thank you, Mari."
Ugh. Maybe Gon-chan was right. She's being more dramatic than usual.
She reaches a hand towards Mari, stopping only just shy of the curve of her jaw. "Are you sure you don't want to do anything to yours?"
Mari steps back abruptly. "I don't think the prince is going to braid his hair."
"I'm the prince here, remember?" Lara teases. "Madame Witch said so."
"Be whoever you want." Gon-chan drawls. If she could roll her eyes that very moment, she probably would. "As long as you get me some snacks on the way home."
"Okay!" replies Lara cheerily. "Which flavor of baum do you want? Vanilla, tea, maple—ooh, and I heard there's a limited sakura flavor—"
"No more snacks for Gon-chan," Mari interrupts, grabbing Lara by the arm to drag her towards the door. "Let's go."
"Have fun on your date," Gon-chan drawls.
"Thanks, Madame Witch!"
"Good-bye, Gon-chan."
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
The second problem makes itself known as they walk out of Omihachiman station and into the crisp spring air. Lara grabs Mari's hand as they cross the street, which, really, is fine and all until they reach the bus stop and Lara still doesn't let go.
They've been holding hands since they left the house. Yoshiya, who'd been lounging outside the gate doing god-knows-what when they stepped out, had shot Mari a glance so smug and knowing that she'd immediately resolved to avoid him for the rest of the week.
Mari didn't think much of it at first: Lara had a tendency to wander off whenever she spotted something interesting, so it was in her best interest to stay within Mari's reach. But at some point during their journey Lara had gone from simply holding on to her palm to intertwining their fingers, and it was starting to make Mari's insides do over-exaggerated corkscrews. Plus, her hand was getting really sweaty.
If this was how Lara was acting on their practice date, then what about when she went on an actual date with her so-called prince?
Mari gently pulls her hand away. Lips parting, Lara turns to her, likely to protest—but Mari, anticipative, beats her to it.
"Here." She holds out the sunhat she'd retrieved from her bag. "Wear this on your head."
Lara takes the hat reluctantly and examines it. "On my head? What for?"
"It'll protect you from the sun."
She squints up at the clear blue sky above them. "Protect me… from the sun?"
"Yeah. So you don't get burnt."
"Burnt?!" Lara looks horrified. "Humans can get burnt by the sun?!"
"Yep."
"How can you people live like this?" she cries. "Should we go wait somewhere inside, then?"
"No need." Mari gestures to the approaching bus. "Our ride's here."
She lets Lara embark first, watching as she climbs the steps and taps her IC card without hesitation. There's something about her movement that's always seemed fluid to Mari, at least once she'd gotten past her initial clumsiness—as if the air were like water, bending to her will. She greets the conductor brightly before turning back to Mari, who hadn't realized she'd been staring until heat creeps up her cheeks.
Somehow, Lara has turned the surface world into a kingdom of her own. And yet no matter how accustomed she may now be to life in Shiga, her curiosity for this place and its people still appears to be endless. For Mari, who'd spent her entire life growing up in this city, getting to see it through fresh eyes is an unexpected blessing.
"Mari, look at that car!" Lara whispers, casting a glance over her shoulder at Mari to make sure that Mari is looking, too. "It's got a huge picture of a crepe on it!"
Mari lets out a soft chuckle. "They sell crepes, that's why. That's a food truck."
"So we can buy some?"
"On the way home, sure. If you're okay with walking."
"Seems like a long walk, but… maybe for the crepes, I would," says Lara determinedly. Then she turns back to the window, nearly plastering her face to the glass. "Oh, look! A river!"
"That's a canal," Mari explains. "It's man-made."
"A man made that?"
"Humans. It was originally built around a castle, to protect it."
"A castle!" Lara's hands jump to her mouth. "Can we go?" The bus slows to a stop. "Are we going?"
Mari stands, feeling rather triumphant over Lara's enthusiasm. "Yep. Let's go."
Lara squeals. And then she's on her feet in a flash, so quick that she's on the street by the time Mari reaches the doors of the bus. It's only a couple of steps above the pavement, but Lara extends a hand towards Mari anyway.
"My princess," she says, giggling, as Mari takes her hand and descends the steps to the sidewalk.
"Idiot," Mari shoots back, using her free hand to punch Lara softly in the arm. But she doesn't let go of her with the other.
"I can't believe you actually brought me to a castle," Lara exclaims as they stroll down the street hand-in-hand. Despite the clear weather, the street is almost empty, save for a few older residents who greet them cheerfully as they walk past. "Though I don't see any signs of one around here…"
"What kind of castle are you expecting?"
"Hmm." The way Lara tilts her head as she thinks really shouldn't be as endearing as it is. "Something really big, with lots of tall towers, and spires, and sculptures…"
"Well, sorry to disappoint," Mari says, "but the castles here aren't like that at all. Plus, these are ruins."
"Oh."
"Don't look so glum." Mari smirks. "It's still a castle."
"I'm not glum," insists Lara. "I'm spending time with my favorite person, in a beautiful, nonexistent castle. How could I be glum?"
"Your—" Mari coughs. Blood rushes to her face faster than water through a broken dam. "It's not—whatever. Come on."
If they're going to keep holding hands, Mari might as well make use of it: she pulls Lara past the bus stop, into the castle town, down cobblestone streets lined by old buildings that make the whole place seem frozen in time.
"Hey, hey, slow down!" Lara cries. "Is this how you treat your date?"
"We'll have time to take it all in on the boat," Mari explains, "if we catch it."
Lara's eyes light up in excitement. "A boat? We're going to ride a boat?"
Beat that, Mr. Prince, Mari thinks to herself, vindicated. "Yep. We're going on a cruise."
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
The third problem shouldn't really be a problem at all, given the nature of their activity: a practice date, with date meaning a romantic meeting, and romantic meaning… whatever this is.
It's just the two of them on this single, self-driving boat, and they've got about an hour's worth of drifting through the Hachiman-bori canal ahead of them. A light breeze sweeps through the trees lining the waterway, weeping willows and sakura trees just at the tail end of their bloom. It sends their petals slowly drifting through the air, landing delicately on the clear water and in the loops of Lara's scarlet hair.
She looks beautiful. There's no other word for it, except maybe majestic: even in just her aquamarine cardigan and green plaid skirt, no dress or crown or royal garb in sight, she looks every bit the picture of a princess. Straight out of a fairytale, or maybe one of those cheesy period dramas she loves dragging Mari into watching with her.
This feels like a scene from one of them. And that's exactly the problem and the point all at once—Mari would be damned if Lara ended up having a date as romantic as this. And, as she is just discovering, much to her dismay—she'd be upset.
And it makes her feel like a horrible friend, because she's supposed to be helping Lara find this true love of hers, and it should be—it's going to be better than anything Mari can ever give her. It has to be. And yet the thought of Lara floating through some blue lagoon with some faceless guy feels almost worse than a sucker punch to the gut.
The worst part is: Mari can't even explain why.
Lara, oblivious to her internal monologue, leans towards her with a guileless smile. "Mari, you've got a petal in your hair."
Before she can even ask Lara where exactly the petal is, Lara's already plucking it off her head, delicate fingers brushing against the shell of Mari's ear. Goosebumps prickle up the back of Mari's neck.
"Look," she says, holding it up to Mari's earlobe. "It's just like your earring! Pretty."
Mari smiles in spite of herself. "Yeah?"
"Ahh, this is so magical," Lara sighs. "And it's so much better now that I'm not sneezing! I feel like I can really enjoy the flower viewing in its full splendor."
"Huh. Who knew those anti-allergy medicines could work on mermaids, too."
"Well, I'm not exactly in mermaid form right now." She crosses her legs gracefully. "It's a bit strange, traveling by water but not under the water."
"Is this your first time riding a boat?"
Lara hums. "Now, yeah. But a long time ago…" Her expression turns melancholic. "I think I have, before."
"How was it?"
"Scary," Lara admits with a dry chuckle. "Boats were always something for us mermaids to fear. The first time I ever saw a boat, it was on fire."
"Woah. Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Lara so rarely ever talked about her past that Mari sometimes forgot that she'd lived a whole other life, once; sometimes, Mari even forgot that she'd lived a life without Lara at all. Before Lara, and perhaps after her mother, Mari had lived her life with single-minded intensity: sticking to a fixed routine, staying on track towards her goal of becoming the strongest boxer in all of Japan. That track hasn't changed one bit—except maybe for the fact that she's begun to set her sights on the world stage—but something else inside her has. Ever since Lara came barrelling into her life, literally, flying in from the sky and crashing into Mari's world (and her window) with a tenacity like no other, something has changed: something below the surface, deep within Mari's heart.
She isn't very sure yet what it is exactly, but she knows, with the same kind of surety when she'd declared to her mother, I love boxing, I want to do this for the rest of my life, that it's a change for the better.
"I'm glad I got to do this with you, Mari," says Lara softly. And it's unfair, so unfair, that Lara can look at her with all that open affection spilling from her gaze and never withhold a single drop. Mari wonders what fraction of that expression is reflected on her face right now: if Lara can see it, how much Mari enjoys her company, treasures it, even. She knows she isn't the most expressive; her mother told her, once, it's okay to let your guard down sometimes, Mari. Funny, for someone who had spent so much time telling her to be strong and hiding her own illness from her only daughter.
But Mari remembers her smile, that bright, crooked thing; knows that it had been genuine and true, in spite of it all. And so she says,
"I'm glad, too."
Mari didn't think it could be possible for Lara's smile to get any brighter, but somehow, it does.
"Did I make a good prince?"
That startles a laugh out of Mari. "Since when were you the prince here?"
"Since Madame Witch told me!" She crosses her arms petulantly. "And she said I can be whoever I want."
"She's right," Mari agrees. "But don't tell her I said that. It'll definitely get to her head."
"You can trust me," says Lara seriously. "I still don't know how you can trust Madame Witch, though."
"She's literally just a fish."
"A talking fish."
"And you are?"
"Excuse me?" Lara scoffs. "I am a mermaid. There's a difference."
"Sure is," Mari says. "One of these days you might turn into, like, a goldfish or something. Or Gon-chan could grow into a mermaid. That would be super cool."
Lara shudders. "Eugh. Be careful what you wish for, Mari."
"I'm always careful," Mari says, leaning towards Lara with a smirk.
Their faces are inches apart, now; Lara's so close that Mari can see the ocean blue of her irises, so deep she's afraid she might drown in it.
She makes the mistake of lowering her eyes. All that does is cement her gaze on Lara's mouth, the sweet curve of her smile; the red of her lips as fiery as her hair, her heart. She knows she should tear her gaze away—she just can't make herself do it.
Kiss her.
What?!
I wanna kiss her.
Kiss her!
"I—"
A strong breeze rushes in. Mari snaps out of it first—when she looks up, for one brilliant, ephemeral moment, she thinks she catches Lara's eyes on her own mouth, too—before Lara's sunhat is swept clean off her head.
"My hat!" Lara screeches as Mari makes a lunge for it—one grand, idiotic lunge that sends the boat tilting and Mari tumbling into the water.
"Mari!"
Water rushes into her mouth and ears, but her head stays clear. She kicks once, twice, and it's enough for her to break surface. The hat floats right next to her, within arm's each. She grabs it and turns back towards the boat.
Lara leans over the prow, jaw slack with terror. "Mari?!" she repeats, incredulous, like it's the only word she knows.
"This is karma," she mutters, as Lara throws out her hand to hoist her up. "For when I pushed you off that bridge."
"You scared me!" Lara's fear seems to make her stronger, though, because it only takes one good tug for her to pull Mari back on board.
"Sorry," Mari mumbles, feeling faintly dizzy. "Here's your hat."
"It isn't even my hat," Lara says miserably. She puts it on anyway, sopping wet, and water trickles down her clothes in splotches. Mari tugs at her skirt halfheartedly and gives it a good, long squeeze. She hopes there's enough time left on the cruise for her clothes to at least stop dripping.
But it's just her luck that when the boat rounds the next corner, the landing docks come into view.
One of the boatmen emerges to greet them. The polite smile slides off his face the moment his eyes land on Mari and Lara, replaced by a look of utter disbelief.
"My goodness," says the boatman. "What on earth happened to you two?!"
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
They don't take the bus back to the station, mostly out of respect for the dry seats. Instead, Lara buys Mari a towel from the nearest convenience store, and they take their time leaving meandering, wet footprints all over the quaint streets of Omihachiman.
In return, Mari buys Lara a crepe, plum-flavored, which is the flavor Mari likes but Lara insists on ordering anyway. She even goes as far as spooning a bit of the cream and fruit into Mari's mouth—very date-like, except for the fact that Lara still can't quite meet her eyes when she does it.
Practice, indeed.
But it's fun anyhow. By the time they make it back to the train station, the sun is already setting, casting the town in golden light.
Mari tugs the towel tighter around herself. The long walk had left her just slightly damp instead of sopping wet, at least. But she can still feel Lara's scrutinizing gaze on her, and it makes her shiver in the breeze.
"Ready to go?" Lara asks, kindly.
"Yeah." Then, "I'm sorry. I kind of ruined our practice date."
"You absolutely did not." Lara's voice is surprisingly firm. "I had the best time. I think I… I know everything there is to know about dates, now."
"Like how to rescue your date from drowning?"
"Way to kill the mood," Lara agrees, giggling. And then her expression flickers: eyes widening, lips flattening into a thin line, a blush taking over the highs of her cheeks.
Oh no.
"We should…" Mari falters. She'd been scrambling for something to say to break the sudden awkwardness, and landed on the first genuine statement that wasn't too drastic. We should do this again another time. But another time Lara will be on a date with some guy who'll sweep her off her feet, probably, and give her the true love she's been searching for all this time.
"We should do this again."
She doesn't register the words that Lara had said until Lara takes her hand and squeezes it, long and tight. There's a small, almost shy smile on her face, but it's hopeful. A light in her eyes, too, that Mari hopes will never go out.
"Yeah," Mari croaks. A warm feeling bubbles up in her chest, and stays there. "Yeah, we should."
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
Lara falls asleep on Mari's shoulder on the ride home. Mari has to shake her awake as the train pulls into Otsu Station; even then, she's extremely drowsy, so Mari has to half-carry, half-drag her home, what with the way she's almost fully draped against Mari's back as they walk.
She carries her up the stairs, after greeting her father and grandmother and giving Yoshiya her best don't-even-try-to-ask glare. It's no surprise then that Lara all but collapses onto the futon the moment they reach the bedroom.
After that it's a matter of redressing her carefully under the blanket until she's properly tucked in, wearing Mari's softest, favorite sweater and a pair of cotton shorts, plush turquoise Sacabambaspis snug in her arms. She allows herself a total of ten seconds to watch the rise and fall of Lara's chest before she leaves and takes a long, cold shower.
Afterwards, she lies in bed, awake, listening to Lara's soft breaths fill the room.
She doesn't know how much time passes until Gon-chan speaks into the silence.
"How was the date?"
For a long while, Mari says nothing. Her hand crawls over to her heart, as if to feel the warmth lingering there.
"It was nice," she says, eventually.
More silence, if only for a few seconds.
"Do you think it'll help her?" She pauses. "Find true love."
Mari doesn't know a lot about true love, only that she wants Lara to have it—all of it. Because if there's anyone who deserves that kind of thing, it's Lara: Lara, who sees everything with an open mind and heart, who makes all people feel welcome even when they don't always welcome her, giving herself so willingly and thoroughly to a world that could have hurt her. That probably still does, and yet all she continues to give to it is love, in return.
Kind, beautiful, bright Lara. Mermaid Lara. Human Lara. Her Lara.
"I hope so," Mari says, and means it.