Work Text:
"Recent studies have shown that when mermaids die, they don't leave behind a body like humans do, but instead disperse into sea foam."
Another student raised her hand and asked a question out of turn. "Why does that happen if they look so similar to us?"
"No one knows yet." The teacher shrugged. "Greek myths claim that Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty, was created from sea foam; as such mermaids are made in her image. Thus, when they perish, they return back to how the goddess was initially birthed. This isn't actually backed up by scientific reasoning, but there's still so much we don't know about mermaids. Perhaps such a claim has reasoning behind it that we simply haven't discovered yet. What we do know, however, is that when mermaids stay out of water for extended periods of time they'll become sick. Scientists theorize that this will shorten their overall lifespan."
Kafka listened along to the lecture. Mermaids were an interesting topic, but to claim that they were sculpted in the form of a goddess was a hubris only few could claim. She hadn't yet met a mermaid, few had, but she likened them to any human. Just like how there were beautiful humans, there were also ugly ones. Kafka had no doubt mermaids were the same.
The aspect that was most interesting regarding mermaids was their rumored beautiful singing voice. Many legends described them as being sirens that lured away sailors solely with their voices. She wanted to verify just how beautiful those singing voices were firsthand.
"Today, we have a new student. She's still learning the language, so please be patient with her." Kafka’s teacher announced one day.
The class instantly erupted into excited whispering. There were only so many of them in this isolated slice of the countryside that any new student was bound to attract plenty of attention.
Kafka was no exception. She was curious who would suddenly transfer in the middle of the year out here.
The teacher stepped outside for a second before coming back in while rolling a wheelchair. A silver haired girl with amber eyes was revealed to the class. She had a blanket covering her legs and feet.
"Settle down class, let our new student introduce herself." The teacher scolded the rowdy students who had suddenly ooo'd and ahh'd the second the new student entered." They huffed and patted the shoulder of the new student. "You can introduce yourself now."
"Hello, I'm Stelle." The silver haired girl said. There was a hint of awkwardness, like each time she spoke she was consciously picturing what she said before she spoke. "Nice to meet… everyone in here. I like sweets, I like science, I like math."
Kafka couldn't quite place the accent. It was as if most of her words were coming from the back of her throat rather than making use of the full mouth. Certainly not the regular twang between words that was so common in the far countryside like they were. Even Kafka herself had picked it up ever so slightly since she had moved here. Not to mention the odd pauses every three words.
Her curiosity didn't extend beyond that, however. She had satisfied her interest.
"Thank you, Stelle. Your seat is in the back, by Kafka. She's the one with the dark red hair. Do you need help getting to it?"
"No thank you." Stelle declined, and wheeled herself to her chair.
The amber eyed girl smiled at Kafka when the two made eye contact. Kafka returned with a nod of her head.
"Continuing on from our last lecture. We're going to talk about the differences between mermaids and humans. Almost all mermaid sightings have shown them to be extraordinarily beautiful, lining up with common human aesthetic senses." The teacher started to drone on about yet another familiar topic.
Kafka sighed to herself. This was the fifth time this week they had talked specifically about the beauty of mermaids. She had no doubt in her mind they were beautiful, but for it to dominate such a large amount of the lecture was something she couldn't find herself agreeing with.
She rose her hand and waited to be called on. "What about ugly mermaids?" She asked.
"I'm sorry?" Her teacher seemed confused.
"Well, we keep hearing about how beautiful mermaids are, but aren't they like humans? There are beautiful humans and ugly humans. What's stopping mermaids from being beautiful and ugly?" Kafka pitched her question. "Don't they have their own sense of beauty? What if what we believe to be beautiful to us is actually not so beautiful to them?"
The silence in the room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"Uh. Good question!" The teacher laughed nervously. "I don't really know the answer to that. We're still learning more about mermaids each and every day. It's entirely possible for them to have their own sense of beauty that doesn't align with ours!"
Kafka just nodded, dropping the topic and allowing the teacher to move on. She somewhat expected that sort of answer.
The lecture droned on about things they already covered, before changing subjects and moving on to math. Before long, the bell rang for lunch and many of the class had started to get up to get their food.
Just as Kafka made a move to get up, her shoulder was tapped. She turned and looked to see the culprit, only to find Stelle the new transfer staring at her expectantly.
"Am I beautiful?" Stelle asked once she noticed she had Kafka's attention.
The question caught Kafka off guard, and she took a second to process it. She briefly wondered just what had caused such a random subject matter to be the very first thing they had spoken about, before deciding to just answer.
Stelle's silver hair seemed a bit dull under the weak classroom light. It went down past her shoulders, long enough to reach her chest. Her teardrop amber eyes reminded Kafka of the substance by the very same name. It wasn't particularly captivating in her opinion. Her cheekbones, though, were high. Almost regal in their structure. Combined with a sharp nose, with only a hint of a bump at the bridge, it had all the foundations to be beautiful but ultimately fell flat. The poor lighting in the class was not doing her own any favors.
Cute, perhaps. But beautiful?
"No." Kafka said honestly, before grabbing her lunch and heading off.
The sea breeze was a unique scent that Kafka had always found herself drawn to. The saltiness that clung to the air, infiltrating every breath one took and filling it with a freshness that couldn't be found outside the ocean's immediate proximity.
It was the perfect place to play the violin.
Rather than being the main piece, the symphony of the ocean caused her to become just another sound. The waves that crashed against the shore, the wind that sped up or became stagnant on a whim, all contributed to the orchestra of nature. With her violin, she would match that.
Kafka played a piece without a name. An improvisation that changed with the whim of her surroundings. When the wind picked up, so did her pace. When it slowed, her strokes slowed to a gentle crawl.
It was difficult to fully hear the sound produced by her instrument, but that was her intention. She instead focused on the vibration of strings in her hands. The waves traveled through her fingers, and into her body. She felt the music with all of her being, and could tell just from how the strings resonated in her fingers whether or not her playing was any good.
She let herself get lost in the music, to the sound of the ocean. It was calming, soothing, and one of the only upsides of living in such an isolated spot in the region.
Time was washed away as Kafka played until her fingers had the hint of aching. She stopped to prevent her calluses from hardening any further.
Just as she took her chin off the rest and put her bow down by her side, she started to hear a humming of sorts.
At first, it was nothing more than a whisper among the music of the waves, but gradually it grew in luster. From a simple melodic voice to an enrapturing performance that had ensnared her in place. Kafka's heart thrummed in its cage, beating against it's prison as if wanting to break free and join the newcomer. She swiveled in place, doing her best to locate the source of the music. A desire to get to know whomever was capable of such a voice burned within her.
And yet, she found no one.
Disappointment flooded her, but was quickly replaced with a different, more peculiar emotion.
Kafka raised her instrument once more, and placed her bow upon its strings. With a quick dip she strummed a note that matched the high of the mysterious singer, accentuating the performance.
She could feel in the next note how receptive the singer was, for the passion in their voice was reignited. Kafka pushed through the aching of her fingers and delivered a clumsy duet. Sometimes she went high when the singer went low. Sometimes she swapped a note just a beat too early.
The two stumbled their way through a performance, clear to anyone who might have heard that this was their first time together.
But it was fun. And never before did she have fun when playing with someone else.
"I heard there was a siren singing last night!"
"There was! I was there! I heard her singing!"
Class was buzzing with excitement when Kafka entered. Usually her classmates were more subdued, owing both to the early start as well as the lack of variety in the isolated countryside. But today everyone had one topic on their mind.
Kafka had to admit, she was interested as well. A small part of her stayed skeptical as to whether or not it really was a mermaid that sang yesterday. Everyone seemed so certain, but until she saw the mermaid with her own eyes she wouldn't make any bold or conclusive claims.
That didn't mean she wasn't holding her head high with a small puff of pride knowing that she hadn't just heard the mermaid singing, she had potentially played with them. Admittedly it was a duet of flimsy proportions, but a duet nonetheless. If the mermaid had decided to halt their singing due to her mediocre violin performance, her ego would have never recovered.
Kafka sat down at her desk. To her left was the new student, Stelle, who gave Kafka a smile.
"Good morning Kafka." Stelle greeted her.
"Good morning." Kafka returned politely.
The violinist could feel the new girl's amber eyes lingering on her face, almost as if she were searching for something. Kafka decided to ignore it while she prepared herself for the rest of the day.
"You're not curious?"
Kafka glanced back at the wheelchair-bound girl. "About what?" She asked.
"About the mermaid."
Kafka tapped on her notebook. Thinking for a second before turning to a dog-eared page. "I am, but I don't think I'm interested in the same things as the rest of everyone else."
Stelle made some sort of face that Kafka couldn't fully see in her peripheral. "Let me guess. You want to… play mermaid sports!"
It took Kafka a moment to process what was just said. The nonsensical guess had Kafka turning her head back to the silver haired girl, ready to speak up, only for Stelle to continue talking.
"I was kidding. You like their music the most, over their beauty." Stelle guessed.
Kafka was speechless for a second, unable to look away from the amber eyed girl who was looking smug with her guess. The violinist blinked once, before letting out a single chuckle.
"Good guess." She smiled. "Anything in particular tip you off to that?"
Stelle winked at her, looking as if she knew some profound truth of the world as she did so.
"That's a secret."
Being so close to the ocean meant that naturally there was a class Kafka could seldom avoid. Although she loathed admitting it, and the weather was usually quite fair, she hated swimming.
Not because she couldn't. No one would ever be able to get that truth out of her. But simply because she got sick easily. Because while the weather was usually fair, winter was considered the most temperamental of all the seasons for a reason.
She could shroud herself in as many layers as she wanted if it was just the wind, but to soak herself in water so cold that her toes threatened to curl in on themselves was another thing altogether.
Kafka sat on a chair outside the pool. She was dressed in a thick coat and a scarf long enough to wrap around her neck twice. It was a usual Friday, and while most of her classmates were ecstatic to dive into a pool, Kafka would rather be doing anything else.
The only difference to this particular week was that she had a partner in crime.
"Don't like swimming?" Stelle asked from beside her. She watched the rest of their class with an odd look in her eyes.
The wheelchair-bound girl was dressed lightly compared to Kafka. She wasn't wearing a coat, exposing her toned arms to the elements, and had her ever present blanket that covered her legs. The cold didn't seem to bother her.
"I get sick easily, so I don't swim." Kafka told a half truth.
"That's a shame. Swimming is fun."
The statement felt odd coming from a girl in a wheelchair. It felt much more matter of fact than one would expect. She wouldn't want to assume anything from someone she barely knew, so she stopped that line of thought there.
Kafka took a moment to look at her new classmate. She had been recently getting the feeling that Stelle was hiding something. Like there was some tangible difference between her and the rest of her classmates. Something that distinguished her from the rest in a manner that made her much more interesting to talk to.
"…I wonder why that is." Kafka muttered beneath her breath.
She wasn't quite sure whether she was responding to Stelle or her own thoughts.
Kafka found herself returning to the sea often. Ever since her encounter with that mysterious singer, it was like a seed had nestled in her heart. She craved to play with them again, improve upon their clumsy duet and make music upon the ocean. It was a unique sensation unlike any of her previous recitals.
For musical performances, she rehearsed through effort and will, astounding audiences and securing a name in her small slice of the country, it was a different kind of feeling. The hours upon hours of effort that she poured into practice, repeating songs until they were perfect and any imperfections were ironed out was a product of pride.
Musical performances gave her a different type of exhilaration. It was one steeped in pride, coming from the knowledge that she put hours upon hours into her rehearsals. Ironing out any small imperfections in her songs to craft music that left audiences stunned in her beauty. It had allowed her to carve out a name for herself in her small slice of the country, securing a scholarship for greater heights once she would eventually head off and leave this place behind.
Her clumsy, improvised duets by the sea, granted her a relief that stemmed from her love of music. To play something with no stakes, no people to impress and nothing to prove. It held the knowledge that someone was out there who shared a similar adoration for the art, even if in a different medium than her violin.
It was inevitable that her mysterious partner couldn't be there every time she came to play. Whether they were a mermaid or another student who suddenly decided to come out and sing, they had their own schedule to stick to. But when their schedules aligned and one of them started to play, Kafka found herself swept away in time, lost in the sound of the ocean.
She had tried to find her partner just once. She searched for them around the area she usually played, ultimately ending in failure. Her gaze turned toward the sea, and thought back to everything she knew about mermaids.
Perhaps some mysteries were best left unsolved.
Kafka never searched for her partner after that day, content with making music with them instead.
Winter's cold embrace faded into Spring's wet tears, forcing Kafka to turn her music endeavors inside for months at a time.
When time and rain allowed, she would head outside and play with her partner, but more often than not she focused her efforts on rehearsing for a big show. University was fast approaching, and she wanted to leave a splash on her little seaside town before exiting the stage.
Lately though, she found her practices to be saddled with an additional guest. A silver haired girl who spoke in threes. The only one who continued to try to speak with her, not at all bothered by her aloof nature.
At first Kafka found it a little disruptive. Those amber eyes always looked so expectant. As if her violin was a panacea of the heart, dispelling a bad day away and ushering in a new one. But eventually she found the company comforting.
Stelle was odd, quirky. She never did anything abrasive or offensive but often found herself not getting along with the others in class. Kafka was certain it had to do with her odd way of talking, or the fact that she was in a wheelchair, but the most she could do was offer silent support.
Kafka wouldn't consider herself odd. But she was aware that her priorities were a bit different than most people. It was this little understanding, two outliers in a place where everyone knew everyone, that happened to allow Stelle burrow a small place in Kafka's heart.
The violinist sighed as she played the wrong note, putting her instrument down and looking back over her sheet music.
"You seem distracted." Stelle pointed out.
Her friend was sitting in the far corner of the room, right by the window that let warm rays of spring shine through. It had a clear view of the sea and Stelle always nestled herself there when she watched Kafka rehearse.
"I just can't get this one part right. I think I'm going too slow." Kafka said.
Stelle shook her head, clearly disagreeing with what she said. "Slow down more. It might help."
Kafka frowned. That piece of advice was the exact opposite of what she was expecting, but she tried it anyway. She dived back into the song, feeling the composer's grief and sadness at her fingertips. At the climax, the part where she kept making mistakes, she slowed down more than she thought she needed to. Her bow glided across the strings, dancing a somber tune that fully conveyed the proper emotion, and seamlessly transitioned into two sharp strikes before continuing the slow and somber melody. She finished the piece perfectly, placing her instrument down and giving a bow to her audience of one.
Stelle clapped politely, giving Kafka a warm smile.
"You were right. That was a lot better." Kafka said.
"Happy to help."
Kafka took the time to really look at Stelle. This was the third time she had been helped out by her peer in regards to music, and while Kafka had no doubt she would have arrived at the same conclusion after a few more rehearsals, Stelle was strikingly accurate in pinpointing the solution.
The first time she waved it off as luck. The second happened to be a coincidence. But this third time?
"Do you have a background in music, Stelle?" Kafka asked.
Stelle tilted her head innocently. Those wide amber eyes seemed clueless to anything she was insinuating. "I like singing." Stelle confessed.
Kafka wasn't exactly surprised by that. Everyone liked singing, she herself sang in the shower if she was feeling it.
But Stelle seemed to have an innate musical sense. Letting that go to waste wasn't something she could simply let happen. She was certain that any real lover of the arts would feel the same.
"…Would you like to learn an instrument?" Kafka asked.
Seeing those eyes widen even more brought a tiny smile to Kafka's face. She didn't even realize it until her cheeks started feeling stiff.
"Can I really?"
"I can teach you, if you'd like. Do you have a particular instrument you'd want to learn?"
Stelle chose the piano. It fit her well, and soon Kafka found herself a little musical apprentice. At first Kafka was concerned that Stelle wouldn't be able to use the pedals, but she was reassured by the girl.
"My legs are just a little wobbly." Stelle confessed. "Walking is hard, but I can do something as simple as this."
"Mermaids like baseball." Stelle said one day during their musical lessons.
Kafka blinked, trying her best to figure out how Stelle came to that conclusion.
"How do you figure?" She gave up.
"I just do." Stelle smiled, her eyes twinkling as if she knew something Kafka didn't.
Kafka huffed and humored her. "So, is it like underwater baseball then? What do they use as bats?"
In the middle of a rehearsal one day, Kafka glanced at Stelle sitting by the window. The silver haired girl wasn't looking at Kafka, but was instead gazing out the window. One of her arms was propped on the side of her wheelchair, propping her chin up, and she had a far off look on her face that momentarily entranced Kafka.
She didn't even realize she stopped until Stelle looked over. "Why'd you stop?" She asked.
Kafka twitched her focus back to her sheet music. For some odd reason she had the faintest feeling that Stelle could be swept away by the ocean at any second. As if the tide could rise to unprecedented heights, just to come and snatch her.
"You were beautiful." Stelle complimented her after a successful recital.
Kafka raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean my performance was beautiful?"
Stelle blinked at her innocently. Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. "What's the difference?" She asked.
There were times like this when Kafka remembered that English wasn't Stelle's first language. She had never heard Stelle's mother tongue, and any probing attempts were met with 'It's a secret' followed by an amused look.
Kafka prepared to correct her, only to stop as Stelle continued.
"The instrument is an extension of yourself, isn't it?" Stelle spoke rhetorically. She was quoting an earlier lesson that Kafka gave to her. Her statement sounded very matter of fact. "Therefore if your performance is beautiful then then so is the performer."
And there were times like this when Kafka remembered that Stelle didn't really struggle with english, it was simply her quirk of speaking in three's that caused misunderstandings with others.
"Oh." Kafka said, for lack of a better response. Her heart felt as if it was being tickled by the lightest of feathers. "Thank you, then. I'm glad you enjoyed it."
Kafka found out one day that Stelle had never been to an aquarium before. Most people who lived here in the countryside would consider that blasphemous seeing as they lived right by the ocean and the aquarium was the town's designated tourist trap. Everyone who lived there visited it more than a handful of times.
She had even worked there for a year before quitting, having eventually gathered enough funds for instrument repair should she need it. She focused entirely on her music after.
It was Kafka's idea to visit the aquarium, not Stelle's. Even if it was evident to anyone who knew the silver haired girl that Stelle was interested in visiting, ultimately Kafka was the one who offered to take her.
She was glad she did. Even if she had seen the aquarium more times than she could count, the look in Stelle's eyes every time the two of them saw a new exhibit was one of childlike wonder and made it worth the time spent so close to exam season.
They came across so many fish it seemed as if they had taken a slice of the ocean and brought it on land. Kafka remembered many of them from the many tours she gave.
"This is the shark exhibit. They have tigersharks, reef sharks, horned sharks, hammerheads, zebra sharks. A few others I can't remember." Kafka rattled off the top of her head.
Stelle seemed to have a magnetic effect on many of the fish. When she got close to the glass many of them turned her way, swimming up close and staring at her. Whether it be sharks, freshwater fish, saltwater fish, or manta rays they all had the same reaction.
Kafka mentally nicknamed her the fish whisperer despite the fact that Stelle never actually talked to any of the fish like many people often tried to do. She simply smiled at them and gave them a wave, as if greeting an old friend.
"What's that tank?" Stelle pointed to a large empty one. It was big enough to take up an entire wall the size of three classrooms.
Kafka wracked her brain trying to remember. "I think that's for a Mola Mola. But we haven't had one in town for the past five years or so. At least when I worked here we didn't have one, and that was three years ago."
"A mermaid could fit in a tank that big." Stelle offhandedly said.
It took Kafka a moment to process what her wheelchair bound friend said, before she looked down at the girl she was wheeling around. "I don't think that's something they would like." She said delicately.
"Yeah, you're right. But they wouldn't mind showing off in front of the right person." Stelle stated. "The fish here all look pretty."
"…Have you ever met a mermaid before?" Kafka couldn't help but ask. She didn't bring up mermaids often, but Stelle sometimes spoke as if she were an expert on them.
"That's a secret." Stelle chuckled to herself. "If you could, would you meet a beautiful mermaid?"
"As opposed to an ugly one?" Kafka smiled to herself, recalling the first conversation the two of them had. "As long as they're a good person I wouldn't mind meeting them."
Stelle shifted happily in her seat upon hearing that. “Let’s come back in three years.” She said.
Kafka counted the years in her head. She would be going onto her senior year of university then. She hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing those bright amber eyes she found herself agreeing before even realizing it.
“Three years then. Hopefully it’s still around.”
Spring passed, blooming into Summer’s warm smile. With the change of the seasons came an uneventful graduation ceremony, marking a countdown for Kafka’s time remaining in her small little town.
Stelle progressed wonderfully on the piano, making waves in their small town as an up and coming musician. Her plans after graduation remained ambiguous, but Kafka could tell that she had no intention of leaving the countryside. If she were to hazard a guess, it seemed more likely that was unwilling to part with the ocean. Over time Kafka had come to notice just how much the sea meant to the silver haired girl.
She felt like she was in a similar position. With spring showers gone, she had found herself spending more time going back to old habits such as spending time by the sea and playing her violin. Her mysterious mermaid partner seemed happy, and their duets continued.
Emotions were always a bit difficult for Kafka. Empathizing with others mundane struggles, articulating how she truly felt about something, it felt like a hurdle slightly too high for her to leap over. She could peer over it, imagine how it would be possible, but every time she tried it seemed to fall flat like a string improperly tuned.
Music bridged that gap, the sound becoming an extension of herself, floating over and reaching others. She had thought that she would be satisfied with just performing for others, letting them hear her own emotions as recognition. But it wasn't until she actually played with someone on her own wavelength that she realized what she was missing.
Like her mermaid partner, playing together with Stelle was a slow process. They bumped into each other and toes were stepped on. Sometimes their intentions clashed and when Kafka wanted to play fast, Stelle wanted to go slow. But eventually it was smoothened out and with just a glance they could tell what the other wanted to do.
Unlike her mermaid partner, they stuck to sheet music. Stelle was still learning, even if she was quite exceptional for a beginner. To improvise a song on the spot was still too much for her.
But when the two of them finished a song and Stelle turned those bright amber eyes her way, gleaming with happiness as if they were sunshine. Kafka realized that a place in her heart had been carved out just for Stelle.
The joy of playing and love of music was something embedded in each key that Stelle pressed, and Kafka often found herself unable to look away.
The two of them were sitting side by side on a bench, eating ice cream in the warm summer sun. The comforting silence between the two of them was broken by the silver haired girl.
"I would like to take you to the sea." Stelle said.
Kafka turned slightly, just enough that the girl next to her came into view. She was close enough to count the lashes on her eyes and smell the refreshing ocean scent that seemed to be unique to Stelle.
"Want to go now, then?" Kafka offered.
Stelle turned her head towards Kafka and nodded. She was close enough that Kafka could feel her cool breath upon her, and even notice the slightly orange-yellow tint on her lips caused from her nearly finished mango ice cream bar.
When the two of them finished their ice cream bars, Stelle found her way back to her wheelchair with the help of Kafka. The sea was never far from town, but Stelle insisted on going a certain way, leading to their fifteen minute adventure spanning over thirty.
Kafka didn't mind. She pushed Stelle in her chair and the other girl would navigate. She found their outings ended up like this often. Everyday was somehow fresh and new with her. It shouldn't have been possible, Kafka had lived in this town most of her life and had seen everything it had to offer.
But with Stelle, anything became possible, as evidenced by the cove Kafka had never been to before. It was surrounded by rocks, with only a small path just big enough for Kafka and Stelle to fit through, but once through she was met with a smooth stone path weathered away by years of waves. The sand closer to the ocean was coarser but more sturdy. It was a darker yellow than the traditional beaches that surrounded her town, but Kafka quickly realized the reason Stelle wanted to take her here.
The rocks that enclosed the cove staggered out to the ocean, enclosing the area from view and giving it a natural frame. Just past the shore was a beautiful looking coral reef, hidden away from sight unless one happened to be inside the cove. The water was a shining turquoise, and she could see countless sea life swimming about in the reef, their tiny little forms flickering about in the water.
"Wow." Kafka couldn't help but utter, her breath stolen away by the beauty of it all. "How did you discover this place?"
"One of the fish at the aquarium told me about this place." Stelle giggled.
"Huh. Fish are really holding out on beautiful places then." Kafka went along with it.
"Do you like how it looks?"
"Of course. I thought I had seen everything this town had to offer, but I never would have guessed something as amazing as this was hidden just a bit further away."
"…You can come back here any time you want." Stelle said. There was a hint of wistfulness to it. "If I was gone tomorrow night, wouldn't the waves continue crashing on? They'd still be here for you. "
The words alarmed Kafka, and she crouched so they were both level.
"Where are you going?" She asked, only to get a wordless accusing stare in return. The unsaid words bubbled up and Kafka felt as if she had been slapped. "Me? I- Yes… I'm leaving for college. But it's not like we'll never see each other again. I'll be back each summer."
"But who will I sing with?" Stelle frowned, sadness apparent on her face. "If you're gone, who will I make music with?"
The first part of the sentence snagged upon Kafka's mind, trying to tell her something. Like she had been handed the final piece of a puzzle she didn't even know she was trying to solve and was still unsure of where to even place it.
But… such things could wait for later. For now, she needed to cheer her closest friend up.
"We can call, and talk on the phone. We can- We can play together on the weekends and when I'm back I'll spend all summer with you practicing duets." Kafka said.
Upon seeing no real change, Kafka turned her gaze towards the beach. She wasn't sure what compelled her to do such a thing, but she found herself getting up and heading toward the coarse sand. The cove, untouched by humanity, had plenty of seashells littered on the shore. It took her a moment, but she picked out a particularly beautiful one. It had soft ridges, splayed out to a size just smaller than her hand. When she splashed it in water for a brief moment to wash it, the sun reflecting off it shimmered like a rainbow.
Kafka crouched down and grasped one of Stelle's hands, running her thumb over her soft skin and feeling each individual knuckle. She turned Stelle's hand over and placed the seashell into her palm.
"I'm not quite sure what I can say to make you feel better, and this is just something I thought of off the top of my mind, but here. This seashell is for you. If you miss me that much, you can hold onto this and think of me. And then every summer I'll find a new one for you, until you can make a necklace with them." Kafka whispered, her gaze still stuck on Stelle's delicate fingers.
Stelle was taller than Kafka, but since she spent most of her time seated it was easy to forget this. Kafka hadn't realized that Stelle's hands were slightly bigger than hers until this moment, with the two of them nearly overlapping. She felt oddly like she was coaxing an aggrieved girlfriend, not that she really knew what that felt like.
Kafka waited for a moment, anticipating Stelle's response. When she didn't get one, she finally chanced to look up.
Stelle was bright red, her cheeks flushed crimson all the way up to the tips of her ears. Her free hand not grasped by Kafka was clasped over her mouth in shock, and her eyes trembled with emotion. Every second she had her gaze locked with those amber eyes showcased a new feeling, like turbulent waves in a storm. The corners of her eyes were misty, and it drew Kafka in, ensnaring her and causing her breath to hitch. An urge to kiss the corner of Stelle's eyes passed by briefly, before being swallowed down.
Kafka found her cheeks heating up, and unknown emotions started to float to her heart's surface.
"Kafka, I'll be waiting for you." Stelle whispered back. "Let's meet back at this little hideaway the night before you leave. I'll wait for you at midnight."
The violinist licked her lips, and upon finding words failing her, nodded.
Summer withered away by the ebb and flow of time, and soon Kafka had less than twenty-four hours before her flight. Stelle had disappeared the entire day, leaving Kafka restless and oddly anxious. It was a feeling she was unused to, but when it came to Stelle, most emotions she felt regarding the young woman were things she was unused to.
Like she promised, she went down to the cove near midnight. She saw Stelle's wheelchair parked on the path, but distinctly lacking Stelle herself.
"Stelle?" She called out, voice projecting through the area.
Kafka got no response, and she hurried her way into the cove. The beautiful hideaway took on a completely new look. The moon, bright and full, was reflected in it's entirety upon the reef. And beneath the water's surface was a darkness that seemed to suck in all light, leaving only faint shimmering from the gentle waves.
Just as she was about to call out for Stelle again, she was stopped by singing. A simple melodic voice that seemed to echo off the rocks, creating a symphony with the gentle ocean waves. It was a voice that she could recognize anywhere, for it couldn't be anyone but her mysterious mermaid partner that she had been creating music with. It ensnared her heart, locking her in place as she listened to the song of the sea.
There was a splash of water, breaking the ocean's surface and revealing a familiar silhouette. Illuminated under the night, her silver hair seemed to become ethereal, as if it had become streaks of moonlight cascading down her body. Her amber eyes seemed different and looked more like stars plucked from the sky that pierced through the darkness.
"Stelle." Kafka breathed out.
She walked forward, feet stepping into the coarse sand and onto the shore. Water lapped at her ankles for a brief moment before eventually she was half submerged.
Stelle swam up close to her, half floating on the water's surface. Kafka could see a slender mermaid tail underneath the water's surface, illuminated by the night and shining an enchanting aquamarine.
"Am I beautiful?" Stelle asked her.
Kafka cupped Stelle's face, the darkness of the night failing to shroud any of her features. She could still count her lashes, could still get lost in those shining stars, and could still feel her gaze be drawn to that tempting cupid's bow that was glittering like the ocean's waves.
She answered by pushing forward and capturing her lips.
Stelle tasted like seawater, and Kafka found that she quite loved it.
Kafka realized very quickly that she missed her mermaid girlfriend when she found herself anxious just hours into being separated. As soon as the plane landed and she was able to use her phone again, she called Stelle.
"Hello my wifey. Did you land?" Stelle greeted within a single ring.
Kafka tried to stop the blush from spreading on her face upon hearing the affectionate nickname. "Yes, I just got free. I'm just waiting for my luggage and I'll be taking a taxi to the university dorm."
Stelle made a noise of acknowledgement. "I miss you." She pouted into the phone.
She felt a tickling happiness in her heart knowing that the feeling was reciprocated. "I miss you too. I'll video call as soon as I can, okay."
"Call you soon. Kiss kiss kiss." Stelle said before ending the call.
The wine-red haired young woman just laughed at her girlfriend's odd habits. Before leaving, Kafka had gotten a bouquet of kisses as well as a beautiful seashell that, despite all odds, matched the one that Kafka gifted Stelle.
She seemed to be incredibly affectionate the second she revealed that she was a mermaid. Not that Kafka minded. She just lamented the fact that it would be a few months before she could see her in person again.
"I missed you more than the ocean misses the moon's soft shine." Stelle hugged her the second she stepped through the front door of Stelle's new apartment.
Kafka blinked. That was certainly not the first thing she expected to hear. "Have you been learning poetry?" She asked.
Stelle had a look of shock upon hearing the question, as if she couldn't imagine Kafka would ask that. "Of course not!" She protested, yet refused to meet Kafka's gaze.
Kafka surveyed the apartment. It was big and probably cost much more than what a girl fresh out of high school could afford. It even had wheelchair accessibility options and a tub large enough to fit a mermaid.
"My strings weeped for your embrace, yearning to once again reunite and intertwine their music with the one I met underneath the moonlight." Kafka offhandedly said, determined on one-upping her partner.
Stelle gasped in an exaggerated fashion. "That's not fair." She pouted.
"Hah." Kafka breathed out. "So what's the story behind this place? How did you afford it? You aren't secretly some mermaid royalty are you?"
Stelle puffed out her chest in pride. "You're looking at the assistant lead researcher at Penacony's marine biology institution!"
"…How did you manage that?" Kafka blinked in surprise. "Wait, you never told me this. When did this happen?"
"It's a surprise! When you left for college I took an underwater camera and decided to post some pictures of the ocean floor online! I was bored without you around." Stelle grabbed a disposable underwater camera from one of the counter tops and shook it wildly, as if to cement her point. "Someone saw it and offered me a job if I could get more pictures underwater!"
"And that's how you got all this?"
Stelle nodded. "I also claimed that I had a wheelchair bound wife who needed help getting around, so it had to be close to the sea and have a very large tub!" She seemed especially proud of herself for that.
"…Ah. I see. Have I taught our resident mermaid some bad habits?" Kafka made a noise of acknowledgement.
"'When you see a big corporation, scam them for all they have!'" Stelle recited words she heard Kafka say once upon a time.
"I'd kiss you for being a good student, but I'm still gross from being at the airport. I'll take a shower and then we can continue."
"This mermaid is waiting very patiently!"
Kafka could almost imagine her mermaid tail wagging back and forth like an excited puppy. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
"So… Why do you have two legs on land but they turn into a tail in water?" Kafka couldn't help but ask as she they shared a bath.
Stelle just smiled. "It's a secret."
"Do you like your new seashell?"
"It is a wonderful proposal gift." Stelle smiled happily. Her mermaid tail was swishing back and forth underwater.
"P-Proposal?" Kafka stuttered. When had she proposed?
Stelle nodded. "When a mermaid gifts someone a seashell it means they're willing to pledge their life to the other." She explained as she used one of her surprisingly sharp talons to drill a hole into the seashell and laced it through her necklace.
"I proposed to you when I gifted you that seashell last year?" Kafka asked, her heart fluttering in it's cage.
"Yes you did. It was a beautifully made seashell. Even scouring the ocean's floor for hours would find you hard pressed to find one as stunningly beautiful." Stelle cradled her necklace tenderly.
Kafka mirrored her action, reaching up and cradling the seashell necklace she was wearing.
"You found one."
"Yes I did."
How long had she spent searching for it? Kafka wondered, but never asked.
"Do you really have to leave?" Stelle pouted from Kafka's side. She had started hugging her since that morning and refused to let go unless it was to go to the bathroom.
"It's only for a few months. I'll be back for spring break as usual and then again for summer."
"Sadness fills Stelle. Her sorrowful wails, echo across time." Stelle said in an exaggerated manner, as if wanting Kafka to pick up on the fact that it's poetry.
"…Was that supposed to be a haiku? Your middle line only has five syllables, not seven."
"I never said I wanted to be a poet."
"You're BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK HOOOOOOOOOOOOME!" Stelle happily greeted Kafka.
"No poetry this time?" Kafka chuckled, indulging in her fiance with a kiss to her moonlight hair.
"I have given up poetry and am now a professional video gamer." Stelle informed her.
"…What?"
Stelle looked nervous to bathe with her. It was odd, considering that both of them had previously enjoyed doing so on the daily. So for her to be so reserved seemed a little suspicious.
"…What's got you so anxious looking? We're just taking a bath together, haven't we done this a million times before?" Kafka decided to ask.
Stelle coughed into her hand, a blush on her face. "You've somehow grown even more beautiful in the time you've been away. I might have trouble keeping my hands to myself." She said honestly.
Kafka processed her sentence before a smile slowly crept up her face. "Who said I wanted you to keep your hands to yourself?" She crouched down and whispered into Stelle's ear, watching with delight as her earlobe flushed red.
"That was something." Kafka sighed into Stelle's neck. The taller woman was embracing her, being the big spoon in the bath. Her mermaid tail was wrapped around Kafka's legs, the smoothness of it always a uniquely pleasant sensation on her skin.
"…Was it bad?"
"It was great. Mermaids… sure are sensitive." Kafka giggled.
Kafka's third year of college had her playing a recital in front of a live audience. It was something she was used to, for she did it all the time back home, but the amount of people that could fit into one university amphitheater was staggering.
But even with the audience more than double her usual amount, Kafka found it easy to play so long as she imagined her mermaid watching.
"Welcome home luv." Stelle greeted her. She had an unusual accent. "I hope you had a delightful junior university year."
"Why do you have a British accent?"
"I've taken up professional voice acting." Stelle informed her. "I'm simply practicing."
"You've already dropped the accent."
"In my defense I just started."
"It's already been three years, huh." Kafka reminisced as the two of them strolled through the abandoned aquarium.
They technically weren't allowed to be there, but no one was going to stop them. It was shut down and had been for the past year. They had only been able to get in due to Stelle knowing the passcode to the back.
Stelle navigated the two of them, showcasing the empty tanks and telling Kafka all about what had happened to the place in the past few years. They eventually stopped at a tank as big as three classrooms, the glass holding back water that was still there.
"Here we are." Stelle smiled.
"…The Mola Mola tank? Why does it still have water in it?" Kafka looked around the tank, noticing the spotless inside and the still churning water filter. "And why is it so clean?"
"I cleaned it! I've been waiting for this date, so I snuck in and kept the tank clean and with water!"
Kafka raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so what's the big master plan here?"
"Let's go to the employee rooms!" Stelle pointed at a door that led to the back.
The two made their way to the back, and up a ramp that led to the top of the tank. There was a closed box, one that Kafka recognized as from their home, and inside was a swimsuit in Kafka's size, some goggles and even an underwater breathing mask with a small air tank attached.
The dots started to connect together, and Kafka wanted to decline, but Stelle's starry eyes were impossible to say no to. "Okay. We can… swim together."
"I made sure to keep the water warm okay?" Stelle said gently. "I know you get sick easily if it's cold."
Kafka hesitated even more. She was just going to have to say it. How embarrassing would it be to say to your mermaid partner that you couldn't swim?
"Uh, Stelle. While that's true… I also… can't swim."
Stelle was silent for a moment before smiling gently at her.
"I'll teach you." The mermaid said, grasping one of Kafka's hands and softly gliding a thumb over her knuckles.
Kafka didn't dive into the tank, instead she was gently lowered into it by her surprisingly strong mermaid lover. When she was let go, Kafka hovered there in water, frozen in place as if any small movement could lead to her sudden demise.
She felt Stelle's hand's grasp onto hers, and a gentle yet strong grip as their fingers interlaced. No words were said from the underwater mermaid, but Kafka could feel her message. That she was safe, and nothing would happen with her around.
Feeling emboldened, Kafka opened her eyes underwater. She saw Stelle, her moonlit hair floating in the water like rays of midnight. Those star-plucked eyes were locked onto her, kindness and love reflecting in them to such a degree that nearly caused her to gasp underwater.
With it, Kafka finally learned to swim.
"I can't believe swimming is so easy." Kafka muttered into Stelle's embrace back at home. "Twenty-one years and I never learned how."
"Everyone starts somewhere." Stelle wrapped her mermaid tail around one of Kafka's legs.
"It's just embarrassing. I'm dating a mermaid and I can't even swim?"
Stelle didn't say anything. She was suspiciously silent. When Kafka looked up she saw an amused look on her face and felt subtle vibrations in Stelle's midsections.
"It's not embarrassing." Stelle spoke up when she saw Kafka's look.
"You're literally holding in your laughter. I can feel it in your abs." Kafka pointed out.
"I'm not laughing!" Stelle protested despite her smile.
"It's your last year at school, how do you feel about it?" Stelle asked her. They were side by side, eating ice cream and watching the sunset.
"Old. I'm decrepit and dying." Kafka sighed dramatically.
"At least you're decrepit and dying and stunningly beautiful."
Kafka facepalmed. That was an odd way to compliment someone. She shook her head exasperatedly and smiled at her lover. "I suppose that's true."
Stelle leaned her head onto Kafka's soldier. Parts of her moonlit hair tickled Kafka.
"Is it selfish that I'm happy?" Stelle whispered, so light that Kafka barely caught it.
Kafka's senior year flew by fast. She was used to it by now, and everything she needed to do had long been ironed out. At this point it was just passing classes and actually arriving at graduation.
She wasn't expecting to be chosen to open the ceremony, nor was she expecting a sudden arrival of her fiance in the front row seats which was a special occasion only gifted to family of those with distinguished honors. But since she was there, and she had no doubts that Stelle had her difficulties being so far away from the ocean, she would do her best to give everyone a good performance.
"How did you convince everyone you were my family?" Kafka questioned once her performance was done and she went to take her seat next to Stelle.
"I'm your wife." Stelle said happily.
The two of them flew home together, an occasion that made Kafka realize the repercussions of high altitude on her mermaid partner. She got sick with a fever that lasted nearly a week. It caused her to be fraught with worry, and when she wasn't getting better she wheeled Stelle to the ocean and held her in her arms half submerged into the sea for hours.
She watched as the sickly flush was ebbed away by the tide, and how a healthy color gradually returned to her cheeks. Her mermaid tail began to glow its usual aquamarine shine and only then did her fever finally subside.
Kafka never felt more relieved than when she saw those starlit eyes flutter back open and look up at her innocently.
"The ocean isn't feeling good today." Stelle said to her. "When I'm better we'll do everything."
"We have our whole lives ahead of us, Stelle. Don't push yourself for me if it makes you sick."
A day later Kafka found herself enduring a high fever. A consequence for staying in the cold ocean for hours upon end.
Two years passed in the blink of an eye, and Kafka found herself quickly surging to fame when someone had filmed and posted one of her musical performances online. She was urged by her partner to capitalize on the fame and publish an album.
"Of what?" Kafka questioned, looking confused at the suggestion.
"I don't know." Stelle shrugged, looking equally baffled. "But it's what you're supposed to do when you become internet famous!"
"…I don't think that necessarily equates to success. It's not like I even have anything to publish."
"We do have a music studio in the house, courtesy of my marine biology job. We could simply record something here."
The two of them shared a look at the idea. Both of them instantly knew what the other was thinking.
"I hope you've been practicing the piano, Stelle. It's time for your debut."
"You think a mermaid has a little stage fright?" Stelle scoffed.
"I regret everything I've said before. I have stage fright please let me run away." Stelle pleaded a mere ten minutes before the two of them went on stage.
A part of Kafka wanted to laugh and childishly say 'I told you so'. But she knew that her lover had never been the center of attention of so many people before. She certainly couldn't imagine performing in front of an entire grand theater the very first time she took the stage. This was something people usually worked their way up to, and Stelle's position was quite unique.
She crouched down and cupped Stelle's face, centering the anxious woman's focus onto her.
"Listen. We've practiced this a million times. You don't need to think of the audience at all, they're here for our music which means all you need to do is focus on me, alright?" Kafka said, doing her best to sooth Stelle's worries.
Stelle licked her lips, and Kafka watched that flash of pink disappear back into her mouth, causing the urge to kiss her lover to well up. Kafka gave into that urge, giving her soft, gentle kiss.
"Can you do that?" Kafka asked when she didn't get a response.
"I trust you." Stelle nodded, and kissed her.
When the duo was ready, Kafka wheeled Stelle on stage, reaching over and transferring the woman from her wheelchair to the piano bench. Then she took her position in the front of the stage, grasped her violin, and waited for the curtains to open.
She took a deep breath, watched as the audience was revealed to them, and made eye contact with her partner. Those starry eyes were watching her, waiting for her cue. Kafka subtly nodded once, twice, and on the third the duet played their first note.
The rest of the world fell away.
"I'm famous before I hit thirty!!!" Stelle excitedly yelled after the concert.
"Was that a life goal of yours?" Kafka chuckled at her wife's enthusiasm.
"After my poetry career started failing, and my gaming career started failing, and my acting career started failing, I thought I would never get to be famous!" Stelle said, listing off all her failed hobbies.
"Can you really call them a career if you only were interested in them for a few months? And what about your marine biology job?"
Stelle frowned. "I feel like I'm cheating the system with it. A mermaid being a marine biologist, of course it'd work out, it's like starting a new game with end game stats!"
"Some people are okay with that. It's gotten us along all these years hasn't it? Without your job we wouldn't have been able to make it this far." Kafka placated the woman, patting her silver hair as she pushed her along.
"You're completely right." Stelle changed her tune completely. She reached up and grabbed Kafka's hand, causing the two of them to stop in place. Stelle splayed out Kafka's kidnapped hand and placed it on her cheek. "Praise me more since I carried us afloat for all these years."
Kafka was given a watery, coquettish look from those eyes like stars. It tickled Kafka's heartstrings, causing her breath to hitch and her lips itch with want.
Just as she was about to relent, Stelle's face contorted in pain and she suddenly went through a coughing fit. It went on far longer than it should have, and Kafka's worry spiked as she checked Stelle's temperature.
It was a little hot.
Kafka pursed her lips and gave Stelle a water bottle. "Drink this, let's get you a bath when we get back to the hotel room."
"I'm completely fine-" Stelle coughed, interrupting her last word. "I just need a nice soak."
"Mmm. I hope so."
"Do you want to get married?" Kafka asked one day. The two of them were eating ice cream on a bench, side by side.
Kafka felt Stelle look down at their necklaces full of seashells. It had nearly a dozen of them at this point.
"Are we not?" Stelle asked.
"I just meant a ceremony. I know we're legally married already. But we never really had a grand ceremony where we dressed up or anything."
"Everyday with you is the grandest ceremony of all."
"Is that a no?"
"Let's get married." Stelle said resolutely. "I know just the place too."
Kafka wheeled Stelle down the beach and into a thin path surrounded by rocks. The two of them emerged into their childhood cove, the hideaway that only the two of them knew about. Stelle had several large briefcases that she was precariously balancing in her lap and only was able to put them down when they stopped.
Kafka took her time to set up the camera onto the tripod and pointed it towards the ocean, while Stelle opened up the briefcases to reveal multiple dresses and suits. Both of them had come dressed in suits to make things easier. Kafka's suit was a dark, velvety red that matched her hair. Stelle's suit was white with gold highlights.
They took a plethora of pictures, before moving onto the next set. Kafka changed into a dress while Stelle stayed in a suit. Kafka's dress was black, with a web-like white pattern subtly imprinted into the side. It hugged her figure, emphasizing her beauty.
Their next set was Stelle changing into a dress, resulting in the both of them being in dresses. Stelle's dress was similar to her suit, white with gold highlights. It seemed to radiate warmth, matching Stelle's personality.
The last set of photos they took had Kafka change back into her suit. The last picture the two took ended with Kafka on one knee, kissing Stelle's knuckles.
"What do you think?" Kafka asked as the two of them looked over the pictures. The entire endeavor had taken over an hour and a half just from the various outfits.
"I love them." Stelle declared.
"Hehe. I love them too, but which one do you want to settle on for our vows?"
Stelle hummed and thought for a long while. She went back and forth between all four sets, before eventually settling on the last one. Kafka was still in her suit, and Stelle was still in her dress.
"I love them all but I love this outfit set the most."
"Mm. Let's settle on this one, then."
Stelle cleared her throat. "Do you, Kafka, take your dearest Stelle as your lawfully wedded Mermaid?"
Kafka raised a slender eyebrow. "I do." She said.
There was silence for a bit, and Stelle blinked continuously at Kafka, as if to signal something to her.
"Oh." She understood. "Do you, Stelle. Take your dearest Kafka as your lawfully wedded human wife?"
"I love you." Stelle blurted out, before her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She cleared her throat and started over. "Yes I do."
Kafka couldn't help herself. She did her best to hold in her laughter, but it started to escape in giggles. She couldn't stop it in time before it erupted into fully blown laughter that brought tears to her eyes. Stelle joined in quickly, her laughter ringing through the air like an enchanting chime.
"I love you too." Kafka said between laughs.
The two of them shared a kiss by the ocean.
"Oh my god we forgot to say our vows." Stelle gasped later that night.
"Have you ever thought about singing in one of our songs?" Kafka asked as they were brainstorming ideas for their fourth release.
"I won't sing." Stelle said instantly.
Her answer was so quick that Kafka almost thought she misheard.
"Why?" Kafka asked.
"Mermaids only sing for the one person they love." Stelle said. Her mermaid tail splashed in the large bath.
"Oh." Kafka said. Her fingers trailed the fifteen seashells that were hung on Stelle's necklace. "But… you were singing back when we were in school. And I barely knew you back then."
Stelle started to turn red. She slid downwards into the water, causing Kafka to squawk in her embrace and get up to prevent herself from getting dragged down with her. Stelle kept going until her cheeks were submerged into water.
Some bubbles rose to the surface out of Stelle's mouth, it was the only indication that she had said something.
"What's wrong? I didn't get to hear your response." Kafka coaxed her wife, running a hand gently around the curve of Stelle's neck.
Stelle poked her head out of the water. "I said that I fell in love with you at first sight."
Kafka smiled happily and nipped at one of Stelle's earlobes. The blush had already reached the tips of Stelle's ears and Kafka was more than happy to give her mermaid a little love.
It was when Kafka gifted Stelle her twenty-second seashell and looped it onto the second necklace did she notice that Stelle had started keeping a key attached to it. It was a metal one, a stark contrast to the reds, whites, blues and golds of the shells.
"What's this?" Kafka murmured.
Stelle smiled at her. "It's a secret." She winked.
The older the two got, the more difficult it became for Stelle to leave the ocean for extended periods of time. Baths like the one they had at their house could stifle the tide, but eventually she needed to return lest she suffer from a striking fever.
Kafka bit her lip in worry. Mermaid research had made leaps and bounds of improvements over the past few decades, but understanding them the same way that humans understood themselves was still a far way off. Taking her to a hospital revealed nothing except doctors wanting to use her as a research subject.
The most she could do was be with her in their little coral reef. Watch her float in the sea, basking in the sun. Her seashell necklace, the second iteration of it, seemed to shimmer as it touched water. All twelve of them glittered with the light. Starting from the fifteenth seashell they started crafting a new one.
Stelle looked peaceful in the water, floating there with her arms spread wide. But for some reason it gave Kafka a fear she had never felt before. That the tide could come in at any moment and sweep her away.
"I can scarcely remember life before I met you." Stelle admitted to her. "I merely drifted along in life, but you came along and gave me a purpose."
"You're a wonderful person Stelle." Kafka murmured to the woman. She was hugging her tight in their bed. The stars were out, and moonlight shone through the window. "You would have lived a wonderful life even if you didn't meet me."
"You're so silly." Stelle chuckled, hugging the woman with hair the color of wine. "If not you, then who would I love with all my heart?"
"Do you regret it? Loving me? If you- If you found someone else. Another mermaid and spent your life in the ocean. Wouldn't you live longer?" Kafka swallowed down her emotions.
"…Do you want to know what I thought when I initially showed you that I was a mermaid?"
Kafka nodded into Stelle's embrace.
"When I was thinking of you, I realized I wanted us to be alone together. I wanted to strive against you and for you. I wanted to live in contact. I wanted to be a context for you, and you for me." Stelle reached down and whispered into Kafka's ear. "I loved you, and I love you still, and I wanted to find out what that means together."
"I love you too." Kafka whispered, her eyes tearing up.
On the night of their thirty-third anniversary. The day that Kafka gifted Stelle her thirty-third shell, Stelle came down with a fever. It was scalding hot, and Kafka rushed her immediately to the ocean as soon as she touched her forehead.
A part of her knew, however, that it wouldn't help. That destiny's cruelness had come to take away the one she loved.
That didn't stop her from trying her hardest. She stripped the mermaid naked, anything to increase the surface area of water on skin. The ocean's cool embrace wrapped around Stelle as Kafka lowered the woman into the water. The chill nipped at Kafka's skin and sunk into her bones.
"Kafka, don't cry." Stelle murmured, having woken up at some point. One of her hands reached up to wipe away tears that Kafka didn't even know had leaked out.
Stelle's tail was a dull gray compared to its usual aquamarine. Her hair didn't look like streaks of moonlight, but rather floated flatly in the water like rusted silver. Even her eyes seemed to fade away, regressing back to their amber color like they had been decades ago.
"But-" Every word ached in Kafka's chest. As if her heart was being squeezed until it was nearly about to pop. "You're-"
"Will you take me to our secret little hideaway?" Stelle requested, a serene smile on her face before her eyes fluttered back shut.
Kafka nodded wordlessly, getting up and carrying the woman in her arms to their private cove. Stelle, who used to be heavier than her due to her mermaid anatomy, now seemed as light as a feather. The sand beneath her feet seemed to attempt to swallow her with each step she took. It was as if she was sinking into the abyss, and had to pull herself out of it.
What should have been a short walk seemed to stretch to an unbearable duration. Like shadows during a sunset, each second that ticked by blurred into infinity.
It could have been as quick as a few minutes, or as agonizingly long as hours, but the two eventually found their way to the cove. Kafka knelt by the reef, gently placing down her mermaid into the water and watching her float there. She was about to let go, but Stelle's hand grabbed hold of her arm, before sliding downwards and clasping her hand, interlacing their fingers.
The cove hadn't changed since the first time they had arrived there. The moon, bright and full, was reflected in its entirety upon the reef. And beneath the water's surface was a darkness that seemed to suck in all light, leaving only faint shimmering from the gentle waves.
"Stelle, wake up." Kafka leaned over and cupped her lover's face. She pleaded with the unconscious woman. "Please, wake up."
She tried gently pushing waves onto her body, wetting the bits that weren't submerged in water. She tried softly splashing her face with water, as if the chill from the midnight water would wake her up. She tried pushing her down until her entire body was underwater, watching as the mermaid in her arms continued to laboriously breathe. Stelle floated back up to the surface.
A tear she didn't know she had shed dripped off her nose and splashed onto Stelle's face. It was only then that she woke up.
"Don't cry, Kafka." Stelle repeated. "It's just my time to go."
"No. No. Why? Why now?" Kafka begged. "Why does it have to be so soon? We have the rest of our lives together, don't we?"
"Thirty three years." Stelle smiled, a hint of her radiance coming back. "Isn't that nice?"
"A-All the music we made together. We have so much more to make."
"I love you. I'm happy being here with you." Stelle used her free hand to caress Kafka's cheek. "Do you remember what I said the first time we came here?"
Her heart twisted in pain. She wanted to deny it, to make Stelle stay and tell her the story once again, anything to keep her here longer. But she knew that she had to answer truthfully.
"I remember. You said… if you were gone, the waves would continue crashing on. They'd still be here for me." Kafka recited.
"Because when I'm gone from here… everything goes on." A finger wiped a tear from the corner of Kafka's eye. "So don't be sad that I'm leaving, be happy that it happened.
"I'll miss you." Kafka whispered.
"…" Stelle sighed into Kafka's embrace. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Anything."
"Am I beautiful?"
Kafka looked down at the dying woman in her arms. Her face, once youthful and full of life, was now aged with time. Small creases were formed around her mouth and corners of her eyes, an indication of the many years she spent smiling. Her hair had regained it's moonlit brilliance, shining in the glow of the celestial body. And her eyes had begun to sparkle once more. Looking as if someone had plucked the stars from the skies and implanted their beauty into the mermaid before her.
"The most beautiful woman in the world." Kafka told her, planting one final kiss on her lips.
Stelle smiled and closed her eyes. She began to sink into the water. When she was fully submerged, Kafka began to hear a humming.
At first, it was nothing more than a whisper among the music of the waves, but gradually it grew in luster. From a simple melodic voice to an enrapturing performance that had ensnared her in place. Kafka's heart thrummed in its cage, beating against its prison as if wanting to break free and join the symphony of the ocean.
But she knew it wasn't her place. What came from the ocean, must eventually return to the ocean.
Kafka watched before her eyes as Stelle began to vanish. As sea foam started to bubble from her form and shroud her figure. Her breath hitched, and she pulled Stelle as tight as possible against her, embracing her with all her might to no avail. As if she were never there, Kafka's arms went slack and she jolted at the loss of resistance.
She watched the sea foam dissipate between her fingers, slipping away as she tried her best to catch it. The only thing left in her hands were the necklace of seashells that she had just laced for her wife.
"Ah…" Kafka sobbed. "No… Please… Not my Stelle. Not my Star."
She looked down at her arms, feeling the gentle waves crash against her.
Even when her love was gone, Kafka could still hear the song of the ocean.
Time ticked onward. Kafka stayed there, half submerged in the water until the sun came up. The chill that had once been bone deep was now nothing more than a dull ache. She couldn't move, didn't want to move, as if afraid that if she did so, everything would really set in.
It wasn't until the seashell necklace in her hands nearly broke free from her grasp that she moved. She lunged for it, grabbing hold of it and never letting go. A glint on the necklace got her attention, the sun reflecting off the lone piece of metal.
The key that Stelle always kept looped starting from their twenty-second anniversary.
Kafka pushed herself up, stumbling as her legs refused to work but managing to keep herself upright. Most of her body was numb, and even simple movements were a struggle, but she pushed herself forward and exited their cove.
The way back to her house seemed to happen in an instant. She was soaking wet, and left a trail throughout her house. When she reached her bedroom, she instantly moved towards Stelle's nightstand. A small, lone box lay on it. It had a singular keyhole, a perfect fit when Kafka inserted the metal key.
When she opened the box, a letter was inside. She reached out for it, before stopping and drying her hands instead. Then she carefully opened it, making sure not to tear anything.
Tears welled up, and dripped onto the paper, staining the old ink.
"I love you too." Kafka whispered.
Dear Kafka,
That sounds too formal doesn't it? Dear my love. Dear my muse, my grand aspirations, my lone star in the sky. I'm writing this letter just after we got married. We never got to say our vows and it's haunting me greatly. What if you don't know that I love you? What if you don't understand just how much you changed my life? You're my everything.
When I met you I was new to the world above the ocean's tender surface. I couldn't walk well and I talked all funny. I still can't walk well and I still talk funny, but you never cared about any of that. Do you remember our first conversation? You had spoken up in class, talking back to the teacher about what beauty meant, afterwards I asked if you thought I was beautiful.
You said no.
I fell in love with you at that moment. And then I heard your gorgeous violin music when I was diving in the sea and I fell in love with you even more. Then again when you let me sit in on your violin practice. And again when you offered to teach me piano. I fell in love with you at every moment of our life, over and over again until I was bursting at the seams trying to contain my love for you.
And when I couldn't hold in my love anymore, I showed you who I was; you accepted me. I fell in love with you in that moment. And again when we finally kissed.
Every moment of my life was spent loving you, which is why I'm okay with cutting it short.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I'll write it in the waves. In the skies. In my heart. You'll never see, but you'll know. When you hear the ocean sing beautifully to you, when the moon shines upon you, just know that it's my eternal love to you.
You've made this mermaid very happy. Thank you for loving me, Kafka.
I love you.
Your mermaid, Stelle.