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Lara is not heavy.
That’s the first thing Mari notices when she pulls her out of the water, both dripping wet and tired, Lara’s legs covered in cuts for days. Hauling Lara onto her back is as instinctual as breathing, and so is, she imagines, the way Lara wraps her arms around Mari’s neck for balance. A small wobble, a grunt, and Mari is walking. They find a rhythm in seconds.
Lara doesn’t ask Mari if she’s heavy. Doesn’t bombard her with questions or apologies; doesn’t mention anything at all, in fact. Their journey is quiet, shoes dragging against sand, waves crashing on the beach behind them. Lara’s breath tickling Mari’s ear slowly. The cadence of sleep, or something close to it. She can feel the warmth of Lara’s chest expanding with air and exhaling. There’s a whole person in Mari’s arms, living and breathing and free. It probably should feel overwhelming. Mari doesn’t linger on the image of Lara pointing a blade to her own neck just a few minutes ago.
That doesn’t mean Mari isn’t thinking. Her head swims with feelings. If she focuses enough, she can feel where the blade perforated her chest. It’s a bothersome little thing that warrants scratching, but that comes later. When they’re safe and dry. When Lara is back on the futon next to Mari’s bed, where she belongs.
It’s such a sudden thought that Mari halts her steps for a moment. The image of her room, empty and sad. Devoid of Lara. She felt so alone then.
The hole in her chest aches.
Mari swallows and resumes her walk. If Lara noticed anything, she didn’t mention it. Mari can tell she’s completely knocked out – from the transformation or something else. Mermaid magic is a foreign field to Mari. Whatever happened to Lara took its toll. Mari isn’t sure she wants to ask why her legs look like that. When she came to, she was in Lara’s arms, the hug the warmest she’d felt since—
Well, since her mom.
Mari remembers not wanting to leave it despite the fact that they were airborne. She wonders when that happened. Everything was such a blur. But she remembers Lara’s voice, pleading to the world to give her Mari back. Because she wanted to live somewhere with Mari in it, and she would drag her broken torso, and claw and scratch her way to Mari, even when she wasn’t supposed to, even when mermaids and humans weren’t supposed to love each other, because Lara…
Another halt in her step.
Mari blinks, the truth hitting her then.
Lara loved her.
Waves crash behind them, and a helicopter lands yards away.
Lara feels heavy suddenly.
--
“It smells just like I remember,” Lara buries her head in the futon as soon as they get home. She whines, her bandaged legs still leagues away from healing completely, but she still hugs the comforting pillows like long, lost friends.
Mari places their things on the floor with a smile. “Don’t mess yourself up. We just left the hospital.”
“I’m okay…” Lara sing-songs taking a deep breath. “I think I’ll heal faster here than anywhere else.”
Four days under the fluorescent lights of Shiga’s General Hospital took their toll on both of them. Lara’s condition was far worse than Mari’s, but both stayed in the same room for the same amount of time regardless. Mari heard the staff at night murmuring something about trying to separate them was impossible but didn’t linger on that. She behaved and did everything well so they could leave as soon as possible.
Lara felt oddly distant on that first day. She would sit up on her bed and watch the sea in the horizon with clouded eyes. Moving hurt too much, so Mari would go to her and stay by her side just for the sake of company. She would feed Lara at first when her arms failed to reach her mouth, and at night, Mari would whisper to her about the most mundane things in the world, and the knots in her stomach would untie one by one when Lara responded with a smile that was barely noticeable.
On day two, whatever spell Lara was under seemed to dissipate. Her eyes cleared slowly and she looked at Mari when she talked. Mari’s grandmother brought them a puzzle and they spent the whole day in amicable silence putting it together. Lara’s hands felt steadier then. Her fingers brushed Mari’s a few times as they moved pieces around and they were warm.
On day three, Lara started talking again. The doctors would come over and check on her legs, pleasantly surprised with how well Lara seemed to be able to move them. Mari watched as they helped Lara up for the first time, still wobbly and in pain, but with a newfound determination in her gaze. Hospital food was starting to get old by then. Lara told Mari that she missed cakes, and for some reason that simple sentence sent Mari into overdrive. ‘I’ll get you a big cake when we’re back’, Mari whispered that night. Lara smiled at her with her eyes, knowing it to be true.
On day four, Lara could walk again with Mari’s support. She got two crutches to experiment moving on her own, and something about reclaiming her agency in that manner made Lara so determined to go to the other end of the hallway that everyone around her was in shock. When she got back to the room, Mari walked over with a smile. ‘That was amazing’, she said. And that’s when Lara looked up at her and replied with, ‘I want to go back to our home’. It made Mari dizzy.
Mari looks at Lara now, lying on her futon, and can’t help herself. She lies down next to her, arms touching. Lara opens her eyes and stares at her. Mari stares at the ceiling.
“Strawberry or chocolate?” Mari asks after a quiet beat.
Lara blinks, confused for a moment. “Sorry?”
“Your cake,” Mari elaborates. “Which flavor? I’ll go buy it right now.”
Another quiet beat. Mari feels Lara’s stare on her, almost curious-like. Studying her, or maybe just taking her in. The hole in her chest itches again.
Before Mari can do anything, Lara speaks.
“Strawberry.”
She sounds so unfathomably happy. The word loops inside Mari’s head. She chances a gaze at Lara and they’re closer than she expected.
Lara’s hair is different.
Mari gets up.
“Alright. Don’t go anywhere.”
Lara just closes her eyes. “I won’t.”
--
It’s a sunny day when Lara decides to drop the crutches. Mari wakes up to the girl hovering over her with a sneaky little grin and just one crutch in hands. “Help me down?”
They’re in the garden and on a mission. Mari holds Lara’s hands and walks backwards as Lara steps forward. Her pink, cut tongue pop out with the effort, small steps on the grass feeling like a herculean task.
“Girls, do you want some lemonade?” Mari’s father asks from the kitchen with an empty jar in hands.
“Yes.” Mari replies.
“Yes, please!” Lara says at the same time turning her head to grin at him, and Mari’s eyes never leaving the girl in front of her. Or her bare feet, more precisely.
Something about helping Lara move around pulls on Mari’s caretaker instincts. It reminds her of Gon-chan, that fragile little fish on the brink of death that Mari could nurture back to life. She was so young back then, but watching as Gon-chan recovered and became chatty was enough for little Mari to forget the pain of loss, even if for a bit.
It’s almost like this now. Lara struggles with this basic function, so Mari helps. She holds her smooth hands and guides her around the garden until Lara is tired enough to sit back down.
Except that Lara doesn’t tire.
They’re on their 9th lap when Mari finally looks up from Lara’s feet. She’s surprised to see Lara already staring back.
“What?” Mari asks.
Lara is smiling. “Nothing. You’re just so concentrated.”
“Yeah, well…” Mari averts her gaze, a bit shy suddenly. “I can’t hold you back.”
“You don’t hold me back,” Lara replies. “You’re holding me up.”
Mari lets out a slight chuckle. “You know what I mean.”
“Your fingers are calloused.” Lara changes subjects suddenly and Mari tilts her head to the side. They stop for the first time since the exercise started. Lara drops one of Mari’s hands to hold another with both of hers, caressing Mari’s palm. “I never really noticed.”
It feels so intimate. Mari feels heat crawling up her cheeks, the sudden shift impossible to avoid. It’s the first time in two weeks that Lara seems to address the elephant in the room that Mari so conveniently ignored until now – the fact that this isn’t a dialogue between two friends. That these words aren’t Lara’s ditzy, funny self just blurting out whatever for the sake of filling up the silence. That she means it. That she wants to hold Mari’s calloused hands and feel them for a moment on purpose.
Because she—
Mari gently pulls her hand back, holding Lara’s forearm for support. She looks back down at her feet.
“Boxing does that to you,” Is all she says before she’s pulling Lara again. “Let’s keep going?”
Lara doesn’t let awkwardness linger and just agrees. Mari doesn’t look back up to see what expression she’s wearing. They don’t go far anyway. Dad comes around with lemonade, and they take this moment to finally sit and relax.
The glass is cold and wet from the melting ice. Dad and Lara are talking about something far away and muffled to Mari’s ears. Her vision blurs.
Mari’s palms tingle and she bites her tongue.
--
Mari avoids a punch easily, defending her face with both hands until she finds an opening and hits her adversary. The girl stumbles back and Mari goes for offense. She brings her best punches to the side of her head, and when the girl tries to shake her out, Mari steps to the side and clocks her on the jaw.
The girl falls on her ass.
“Time out!” Her coach jumps into the ring to help the poor girl who’s been nearly knocked out. “Fall back, Otsu.”
Mari breaks out of her stupor, sweat running down her temple. She realizes her shoulders are incredibly tense. With a swift move, she removes her gloves and head gear, and leaves to get some water.
There’s a mirror in the hallway and Mari stops to take a look at herself. A wild animal would’ve looked more presentable. There’s something dark behind Mari’s eyes and she tries to shake it off. It does nothing. She’s fidgety. Been fidgety for a while now, like something sharp is poking her from behind her ribs. A physical thing that she tries to leave back at home whenever she steps into the ring, but that decided to follow her to school today. Mari doesn’t know what it is, or why every nerve in her body feels exposed recently.
She leaves the mirror with a sigh.
Back home, her grandmother greets her, but she can tell something is wrong.
“What happened?” She asks with a keen eye.
“Nothing,” Mari is a terrible liar. “I just need a shower.”
Grandma simply hums and lets her go.
Mari takes her towel from the rack and beelines for the bathroom.
Before she can open the door, Lara comes out and nearly smashes her face with the door.
“Mari! Welcome home!” She smiles, then realizes what she’s almost done. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you coming.”
“It’s fine.” Mari says, curtly. Then, she truly looks at Lara.
Lara is wearing nothing but a towel, hair up and flip flops. There’s still moisture from the bath sticking to her skin. Mari’s eyes follow a drop from her hair that falls on the girl’s shoulder.
Her overworked brain finally relents, and the turbulence inside Mari’s heart subsides. Something about seeing Lara like that is so achingly familiar that Mari stands there like an idiot for far longer than necessary. It’s so mundane. Domestic. Lara just took a warm bath in their shared home and is happy to see Mari.
She looks beautiful.
“Mari?” Lara asks, breaking the spell. Her confused tone is cute.
Mari blinks, finally coming back to life.
“N-nothing. Sorry. Do you need help upstairs?”
“I think I’m okay. I can do it if I go real slow.” Lara’s eyes shine. “But thank you for offering.”
And that would’ve been the end of the conversation if everything was good and normal, but Mari doesn’t feel normal. She feels like if she doesn’t do something right at this moment, that heaviness from practice will return, and it will be the worst thing she’s ever felt.
Mari takes Lara’s forearm like she’s been doing for weeks now. “Let me help you anyway.”
It surprises Lara. But it doesn’t take long for her to melt into another grin. “Okay.”
Towel forgotten, Mari slowly starts their journey upstairs. Her head clears. She places one hand on Lara’s lower back, and Lara looks at her, and Mari gets lost in her eyes and forgets everything.
--
Luca visits.
For a month Lara had dismissed the idea whenever Yoshiya brought it up, saying she wasn’t ready to face him yet after everything. Mari’s brother and Luca seemed to have gotten close, and the guy was basically Luca’s courier when it came to matters of the heart. Mari always kept quiet about the subject. That was Lara’s issue to face.
But then, something changed. Mari isn’t sure when or why, but the longer she spent with Lara, the brighter the girl became regarding every facet of her life. Mari remembers the first time Lara thanked her for everything on a random afternoon after their walking exercises. Mari wasn’t sure what to reply, but apparently she’d been helping Lara figure some things out.
Mari watches from inside the house as Luca and Lara talk in the distance, their conversation out of bounds. It’s a warm afternoon. Yoshiya brings Mari more shaved ice and sits with her by the kitchen table. He looks at her, and then at the former couple.
“Do you think they’ll get together again?” Yoshiya asks with the tact of a rhino.
Mari shoves her spoon in the ice. “No.”
“Oh? She told you that?” Yoshiya is nosy.
“Something like that.” The dessert is pleasantly cold on her tongue. Her mind wanders, miles away to that day again.
Weren’t we all born to love someone?
Mari recalls being desperate at that moment, but not enough to speak carelessly. All she knew was that she didn’t want to lose Lara for anything in the world, and that Lara’s search for true love was bringing her more anguish than joy. When those words leaked from her lips, everything went dark, and Mari had apparently died.
Watching Lara and Luca talking feels eerily similar right now.
That weird poking sensation returns, transformed into a burning heartache that is strong enough to make Mari grunt.
Yoshiya stares at her, spoon in mouth, “You okay?”
Mari averts her gaze from the couple and gets up. “Yeah. Bathroom.”
She leaves her shaved ice and lingering questions at the table and locks herself up. Her chest hurts. Mari pants by the sink, looks at herself in the mirror and sees the same wild beast from weeks ago back at practice. Opening the faucet, she washes her face. It cools her down enough to bring some clarity to the situation.
She’s not jealous. It feels worse than that somehow, but also completely different.
Without thinking, Mari takes her shirt off to check on her scar. It’s still there, same-sized and plain. Nothing is pulsating despite the weird sensation. Mari presses her palm on top of it and sighs.
“Get a grip.” She mutters to herself and puts her shirt back on.
When she gets back to the kitchen, Lara and Luca had gotten up. They seem to be saying goodbye, and when Lara bows politely, her legs give out for a moment. She topples forward and Mari’s heart leaps. Luca holds her, gentlemanly and dedicated. Lara looks up at him and says something. Mari can’t help to think they look great together.
But when all is said and done, Luca leaves, and Lara turns around. Eyes finding Mari immediately, she smiles.
Mari doesn’t think twice.
She goes to her. Hands meet Lara’s forearms and the burning stops.
--
“Mari.” Lara speaks at night when both girls are already in bed, lights out and ready to sleep.
“Hmm?” Mari hums.
“Can we go out tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She replies. “Where do you want to go?”
“Hmm… The park.” Lara says. “I want to walk by the lake.”
“Alright.” Mari agrees.
“And then, after that, we could have some yakitori?” Lara goes on.
“Of course.”
“And eat ice cream on the way back home.” The smile leaks through Lara’s voice.
“Whatever you want.” Mari matches the tone.
Silence fills the room again. There are crickets outside the Otsu household.
“Mari,” Lara speaks again. “Thank you.”
Mari doesn’t know what to say to that. It doesn’t leave her mind. A minute passes, and it doesn’t leave her mind, and if it was any other day, any other circumstance, it wouldn’t bother her this much, like the absence of Gon-chan doesn’t bother her so much anymore despite her keeping the empty aquarium around, because a sacrifice deserves a proper memorial, like the scar on her chest, the mark of a boxer who fought bravely, something given to her by a mermaid with the weight of the world on her shoulders, because she needed to save everyone, she needed to be a princess and marry a prince, and be beautiful, and regal, and not broken to pieces by the same love she—
Mari throws the blanket away and turns the softer light on.
She takes the bottle of lotion next to Lara’s futon and kneels by her legs.
“Let me massage you.” Mari says before she loses her grip on whatever this is.
She looks at Lara, and Lara stares at her in awe.
“Okay.”
When she pulls the blanket away from Lara, her bare legs come into view. They’re scarred. Healed skin covers the lighter cuts, but the deeper ones are still quite reddened. Mari hears the sounds – she’s starting to remember more. Cracking of bones and punctured flesh under the muffled sea. Despair and hope consuming one girl whole.
Mari squeezes the bottle and applies some lotion on her ankles first. Lara lets out a shaky breath. Mari looks up.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, no,” Lara is quick to reply. “It’s just a little cold.”
“Oh. Okay.” With that, Mari starts rubbing.
No one says anything for a long while. The creamy sound of product against skin feels so impossibly loud in the room. Mari is sure to apply the least pressure possible, taking her sweet time with her rubs, tiny circles and soft motions. There, the wound is deep. There, glassy skin.
She moves further up, to Lara’s calves. Lara shivers. Mari slows her movements, hands covered in lotion and heart so tight in her chest that it hurts.
She hears a soft, gentle laugh. It’s Lara.
“Your hands really are so calloused.”
Mari stops.
Walking exercises and punches and princes break something fundamental within her.
She can’t take it anymore.
“Lara,” She blurts out in the least elegant way possible. “Do you love me?”
Time seems to stop. Mari’s eyes water. She pulls away from Lara’s legs, feeling unworthy of touching the girl in front of her. The question breaks something they’d been building for months now, and it’s palpable. It’s too much. The balance was good, was perfect, out of sight and out of mind. They were supposed to just go to the park the next day and eat meat and have ice cream for dinner, and Mari was supposed to live with the ache in her ribs that would grow and swallow her whole before she could ever put a name to this feeling. She ruined it all. She—
“Yes.”
Mari looks up. A tear falls on Lara’s ankle.
Lara is smiling. It’s the same, unchanging smile she’s been giving Mari since the hospital.
Oh.
Mari opens her mouth, nothing comes out. She puts the lotion away and places her hands on her knees, face burning with something.
Mari asks the only thing she can, “So what do I do now?”
It almost feels like a plea. An utmost need for a guide. Mari isn’t a prince. She’s not even a boy, and a human at that. She’s everything Lara couldn’t love, and everything that almost doomed her in the first place. How could she go on now? What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t punch her way out of this, and for the second time in her life she had something so fragile in her hands that crushing it would crush her.
To her surprise, Lara simple giggles.
“Nothing. There’s nothing to do.” Lara pulls her legs back with a tiny grunt and moves closer to Mari. “That’s it. It’s done. I love you, and I can’t take that back.”
Mari doesn’t understand. “But… Luca.”
Lara shakes her head. “It’s never been him.”
“But with him, you didn’t get hurt.” Mari insists, and she realizes that the dam was broken, and everything was coming out now. “You went on dates, and he painted you, and you thought it was fun. He took you to a festival. He took you places you’ve never been, and you were happy. And he liked you back.”
Mari stops.
“He liked you back.” She repeats, eyes widening.
The hole in her chest explodes.
Mari leans forward, grabbing her heart.
“Mari!” Lara crawls towards her, hands on her shoulders. “Mari, what’s wrong?”
The pain feels unbearable, and it chokes Mari. It feels like burning. Hellfire coming from inside, and Mari clenches her teeth and leans her forehead on Lara’s neck.
Lara hugs her. She pulls her in and says something that Mari doesn’t hear.
Everything is a haze.
He liked you back.
Through the pain, Mari hears her own words, and suddenly she understands – the fear consuming her, everything she’s been avoiding since learning the unsurmountable truth of Lara’s love, it was all trying to tell her something. Knocking on her dumb, athlete heart, trying to be heard through all of Mari’s complex emotions and avoidant behavior.
“Mari?” Lara speaks her name with such reverence.
Something inside her starts quelling. The burn leaves her body through her back, and she can feel every last drop of it being sucked out.
When Mari comes to, she’s being held again by Lara’s comforting arms.
Slowly, she hugs her back. Arms encircling Lara’s torso, still so careful not to hurt her. Mari is aware of every part of Lara. It’s so warm.
She sobs once.
“Mari…” Lara sounds confused, but doesn’t let go. Mari shakes her head. She never felt like this.
They stay in each other’s arms for a long time before Mari pulls back with a long, satisfied sigh. When she looks up to face Lara, her eyes are red and the tears are still fresh in them. But she looks impossibly softer.
Lara still looks worried. Mari reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Lara’s ear. It’s like she’s seeing Lara for the first time and it nearly breaks her.
“Mari…?”
Mari’s voice is low and raspy when she chuckles, “No wonder it nearly killed you.”
“What?” Lara blushes at how tender Mari is being. “Mari, what happened just now? Are you okay?”
This time, Mari is the one who takes one of Lara’s hands in hers and caresses her soft, uncalloused palms. She says nothing. Her index finger traces a lazy pattern all over Lara’s palm, seemingly random at first, but slowly taking on a meaning all of its own. Lara blinks once, widens her eyes and then understands. The tips of her ears go hot and she tingles all over. With a whine, she buries her face against Mari’s neck, punching her shoulder with a weak fist.
“Stop playing with me.”
For once, Mari speaks with conviction when she whispers in Lara’s ear. “I’m not.” And with the courage she never had, she places a soft kiss to the top of Lara’s head.
--
The park is a date.
They don’t call it that, too embarrassed to admit out loud what they both know, but it is. Mari wears a pale-blue buttoned up shirt and white shorts, and Lara wears a yellow dress, long enough to cover her scars. Her arms and shoulders are free for the world to see, and Mari, not once, not twice, but several times, stares at them like they’re novelty. Every part of Lara feels new to her.
Absolutely everything feels new to her.
Lara is bolder than Mari could ever imagine. They find a remote place by the lake, and Lara’s hand finds Mari’s. She holds it with purpose, still clumsy, but firm. They walk side by side without mentioning it.
Mari’s thumb caresses Lara’s.
Yakitori is good. Mari has an appetite and Lara just likes frying things on the little skewers. They sit side by side, impossibly close despite the heat and smoke. When they leave, they’re sweating all over. Lara thinks it’s the perfect time for ice cream.
Mari pays for both of them. She gives Lara her treat, but not before taking a bite out of it. Lara complains, blushing all the while. She stares at the spot Mari’s bitten and tries her best to look nonchalant about it. Her mouth doesn’t touch it until it’s nearly melted. Mari laughs.
She wants to call Lara cute. Wants to shout to the world about this secret feeling she discovered. Mari is not equipped to deal with affection this strong.
It’s almost night when they return, and Mari thinks it’s the best Sunday of her life. Lara asks if she wants to shower first, but Mari tells her to go on ahead. She needs to sort some things out. Lara does, and when she’s back, Mari is waiting outside. She just wanted to look at Lara again. She tells her this. Lara slaps her shoulder with a smile that could crack her face in two.
They wish the rest of the family goodbye and Mari helps Lara upstairs. When she gets there, the futon feels closer to Mari’s bed than before.
And it’s Lara, bold and brave and beautiful, who takes the step when she says, “Can we share the bed?”
“Yes.” Mari replies, heart tripping on itself.
They lie down facing each other. Their bare feet touch, knees knocking together. Lara locks Mari’s legs into place with her own, suddenly possessive, and Mari just looks at her with a confusing gaze.
Lara lets out a shaky breath. “Sorry, it just… doesn’t feel real.” A pause. “I’m so happy, but it’s terrifying.” And then, “I might be broken for good.”
Mari hates the way Lara speaks of her own happiness, but there’s understanding behind her eyes. She reaches out and cups Lara’s cheek, hoping that her touch can be grounding. Lara’s is.
“I’m here,” Mari says. “I have a knack for broken things.”
It’s so earnest. Lara smiles with a sniffle. “I don’t think true love is supposed to feel like this.”
“How is it supposed to feel like?” Mari asks.
Lara takes Mari’s hand and places a kiss to her palm, replying, “Suffocating.”
Mari’s heart twists in her chest and she hugs her close. Lara wraps herself all over Mari, a tiny peck to her neck sealing her choice. And it’s quite of a shock when Lara realizes she would let her kingdom drown for Otsu Mari.
True love be damned.
--
Mari says it five months later, when they’re alone at home reading in the garden, for no reason at all other than wanting to.
Lara cries.
Lara says it back.