Chapter Text
The salt in my eyes, as I clear the border
Imagining lines, shatter and shimmer
I get to you, to ask you a question
I get to you, to find out for certain
- “Fixin’” by Walk the Moon
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
In the early morning, a man walks along the trees, on the well-tread path that’s become second nature to follow. He is on his way to the freshwater stream to collect water for the day’s activities. On his shoulders, he carries with him two large buckets which he crafted himself. It’s the beginning of spring, and around him nature begins to bloom. His favorites are the cherry blossom trees. He had never encountered them before he settled here, and they’re still unlike anything he’s ever seen, their pink petals falling all around in a spectacular brief display until the next spring. He will likely need two trips to the stream today, as the beginning of spring means he’s going to spend the next few days planting fruit seedlings to harvest in time for the summer. He smiles at the thought, happy he will get to see the blossoms more than once.
As he approaches the spring pools, he stops in his tracks. In front of him is the most beautiful human he has ever seen, bathing in one of the spring pools. Cherry blossoms fall around the bather, and they float on the water around him. The man doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s enraptured, and he watches as the bather scoops up some of the petals along with the water, gently pouring it over his arms. Without meaning to, the man exhales at the sight, and the bather freezes, alerted for the first time of another’s presence.
The bather quickly turns around, but calms when he sees the other man. Rather than covering himself, he spreads his arms along the edge of the pool and leans towards the man watching. The beautiful bather smiles invitingly and serenely at him, but the man can tell there’s something else behind it. Despite himself, he smiles back shyly.
“I’m sorry,” says the man, finding his voice. “I didn’t mean to intrude. This is usually where I collect water.”
“And who are you? A hunter?” The bather asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Hmm, perhaps,” the man responds playfully. He thinks it’s obvious from the buckets he’s carrying and his bright colorful clothes that he’s anything but. “And who are you?”
“Hmmm,” the beautiful man mimics back. “Perhaps the hunted?”
The man realizes he misunderstood, and that the bather before him truly does think he’s a hunter. What has this bather encountered? He could not imagine anyone hurting such a beautiful creature. The world has enough violence. He only wishes to use his existence to grow and nurture.
“I would never be a hunter,” the man corrects. His voice carries his disgust at the mere idea of it.
“I’m just a farmer, I promise,” he answers. “I came from far away, with a band of nomads. It’s just me now, my cottage and farm are up the path.” He’s not sure why he’s sharing so much information. He feels hypnotized, almost.
The bather’s eyes widen, and his plump lips form a perfect o-shape.
“You’re a human?”
“I...yes? What else could I be?”
“I thought maybe you were an elf. Or a nymph.” The bather pauses, looks away from the man and down at himself, looking shy for the first time, before he continues, “Like me.”
“A...nymph...”
His thoughts race through his mind. He’s heard the folktales growing up, heard the myths. But he always thought they were just that - myths. Though the man supposes anything is possible, nature already amazes him every day. Like many of the creatures that were born and existed long before him, he guesses it makes sense that the supposed mythos of nature were also born of the Earth.
But if the bather says he’s a nymph, then according to the legends...
“Oh my gods,” the man yelps as he realizes. In a rush to cover his eyes he drops his buckets and quickly turns away. “I am so sorry! I’ve never met a nymph before, I didn’t even know nymphs existed! I mean obviously you exist, you’re right there, and it makes sense, you are far too beautiful to be a human. Oh gods, wait, that’s not what I, sorry I am not here to see you, I mean I did see you and I understand that is a great offense of which I can never make up for, but I come in peace, I don’t have an ulterior motive. I really am just a farmer. These are the pools I visit every day to collect water for myself and my crops. I didn’t mean to offend you or look upon your form.” He’s out of breath, anxious of the ramifications of his blunder against nymph-kind.
To his surprise, the nymph just giggles.
“You didn’t actually see my true form, although I appreciate the apology. I’ve never met a human before. I appreciate the compliment, and I suppose it goes both ways, since I thought you were also a nymph.”
Now the man is glad he is turned away, because under his hands his face burns in a furious blush.
“Would you like to join me in the bath, human?”
“No! I could never.” He shakes his head vigorously at this as well, emphasizing his answer.
“Well, you can collect your water if you need, you came all this way.”
“I’ll come back later when you’re done!” He kneels down and feels around him for the buckets he dropped, eyes still closed. He locates them and hoists them back over his shoulders. He’s not sure, but he thinks he hears the nymph make a little noise behind him.
The man begins to take steps to leave, but the nymph calls out to him.
“Wait, if you’re going to leave, at least tell me your name, so that I can properly remember my first and likely only meeting with a human.”
The man stops, hesitating, but decides he owes this to the nymph after his misdeed.
“I’m Namjoon,” he replies simply.
“Nice to meet you, Namjoon. I’m Jimin.” Namjoon can hear the smile in his voice.
The way he says his name sounds like bells, Namjoon thinks.
“Nice to meet you too, Jimin,” Namjoon says back, still facing away.
He then takes off in a sprint, running as fast as he can away from the pools. He doesn’t stop running until he reaches his cottage and runs right inside, closing the door behind him.
--
Once his heartbeat finally returns to normal, he walks over to the small chest of his late grandfather’s belongings and rummages through it. He pulls out a small silver mirror, and looks at himself. Namjoon hasn’t made a habit of looking at his reflection; he never had the need to. But now he holds the mirror up, and examines who looks back at him. Jimin thought he was a nymph. Namjoon looks for anything in his face that could tie him to Jimin.
He sees the broad expanse of his cheeks, with some moles speckled across them. He tries to smile at himself in the mirror, and sees the dips that form just past the edges of the smile, but smiling like this feels unnatural to him, so he stops. He looks at the straight slope of nose. He pushes his hair away from his eyes and his forehead, examines his strong brows, the serious looking curve of his eyes. But he doesn’t find anything that he thinks could draw any likeness to someone like Jimin. Jimin is all fluid curves and gentle lines, almost ethereal in the way he looked like he was one among the blossoms, as if he could dissolve into the water if he wanted to.
But there was something powerful under the surface too. Namjoon had felt immediately that he could get easily swept away, willing him to Jimin, almost like a boat tearing apart at sea.
Namjoon thinks he’s plain in comparison. They both have black hair, he supposes, but his is bleached out a bit by his hours in the sun, brown strands weaving throughout. Jimin’s hair is uniformly the deepest black he’s ever seen, like the middle of the night without the moon. Jimin has striking eyes too, noticeable from the brief moment they held eye contact, now that Namjoon thinks of it. No striking eyes in this mirror, however. Just him looking at himself with his own dark brown eyes. Decidedly human. Namjoon carefully puts the mirror away and tucks the chest back against the foot of his bed.
When he goes back later in the day, just as the sun has begun skimming the horizon, the petals are still floating in the pools, but Jimin is nowhere to be found.
Namjoon sighs to himself as he dips his bucket into a different pool. He carefully picks the petals out of his pails, and stacks them neatly against the edge of the pool that Jimin visited earlier. Namjoon thinks that despite himself, he’s going to think of Jimin everytime he comes to these pools for a long time.
:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:
The next day, Jimin arrives at the spring and waits a while before getting in. Namjoon is nowhere to be found. When Jimin sees the stacks of petals next to his pool, he thinks back to how apologetic Namjoon had been, how careful he seems to be. He wonders if maybe not all humans are like the ones his people’s legends warned him about. Jimin takes some of the petals with him to dry and make into earrings. Before he leaves, he uses some magic to keep anything from falling directly into the springs, to keep the water clean for a certain farmer.