Two

Jurin's eyes widened in shock. The kiss was firm yet oddly gentle, and entirely unexpected. Heat rushed to her cheeks, then her ears, her heart somersaulting in her chest.

Chisa made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a wheeze, but Jurin couldn't focus on her. Her mind had turned to static.

The man pulled away with a pleased hum, licking his lips as he said, in perfect Japanese, "Much better."

Chisa burst into laughter. "Dude, what in the actual hell?!"

Jurin scrambled backwards, her back hitting the coffee table as she put distance between them. Her hand flew to her mouth. "What—why—you can't just do that!"

And yet, I have," he replied, entirely unbothered.

"Did he just—" Chisa managed between wheezes.

Jurin's face was burning. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the phantom pressure. A total stranger. Unconscious one second, kissing her the next. Her brain was struggling to catch up.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The man's lips curled into a smirk. "I am Riven."

A beat.

"The fucking Winx Club character?" Chisa arched an eyebrow.

Riven shifted his gaze from Jurin to Chisa, brow furrowing. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know. Winx Club? Fairies? Stylish clothes? Magic transformations?"

He stared at her blankly. "I have not the faintest clue what you're referring to."

"You don't know Winx Club?!" Chisa clutched her chest in mock horror. "What kind of childhood were you living?"

Jurin held up a hand, cutting off the spiral. "Hold on! Rewind and run it back." She turned to Riven, her voice steadier now. "You were speaking a different language before. Hissing. Clicks. Now, all of a sudden, you're fluent. What the hell?"

He tilted his head, studying her like she was a mildly interesting puzzle. "Sirens can only speak the languages of land walkers once a kiss has been exchanged."

Silence.

“In the name of fuck, WHAT?!” Jurin exclaimed.

Chisa snorted. "You're joking."

"This is not a jest," Riven stated.

Jurin stared at him. "So you're telling me you kissed me—without asking—so you could talk to us?"

"Correct."

"That's insane."

"Perhaps to your limited understanding."

Chisa sucked in a breath. "Oh, snap—"

"You arrogant asshole," Jurin said flatly.

Riven's eyes widened, genuinely offended. "Goodness! How do you attract suitors with such vile language?"

Chisa's jaw dropped. Then she cackled. "Damn, Jurin. He just called you single in the fanciest way possible."

"Shut up," Jurin hissed, though her cheeks were flaming.

Riven's silver gaze swept the shop—the surfboards lining the walls, the shelves of swimwear, the salt-warped floorboards. "This place is lacking in refinement.”

Jurin's eye twitched. "This is my parents' shop. What are you, from the 1400s?"

He smirked. "No. I am a prince."

Chisa barked a laugh. "You're the least princely dude we've ever met."

"Then you have never encountered a true prince, land walker."

Jurin pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Let's start over." She took a breath, forcing calm into her voice. "You said you're a siren.”

“Yes, that is what I said. Need I clarify more to satisfy your curiosity?”

“Prove it."

Riven raised an eyebrow. "And how do you expect I do that, little land walker?"

Chisa shrugged. "I dunno. Do a water magic trick or talk to a fish. You know your biology better than we do."

He sighed—a low, rumbling sound that made Jurin's stomach do something she refused to acknowledge. "Very well."

He held out his hand.

Jurin squinted. "What are you—"

A thin line of electricity crackled between his fingertips, casting a faint blue glow across his sharp features. The air hummed, static prickling against Jurin's skin.

Both girls jumped back. 

"What the fuuu—" Chisa breathed.

Jurin's heart slammed against her ribs. The light danced across his knuckles, alive and restless, before he curled his fingers into a fist and the energy vanished.

"Satisfied?" he drawled.

Jurin's mouth was dry. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

Riven flexed his fingers, faint static still crackling around his skin like dying embers. "Sirens can generate electricity similar to electric eels. An essential trait for hunting."

Chisa pointed at him, wide-eyed. "Did you just say hunting?!"

Jurin swallowed. "That's... actually terrifying."

"You wanted proof."

A heavy silence settled over the shop. Jurin sat back on her heels, mind racing. This wasn't a shipwreck survivor with a head injury. This was something else entirely. Something that shouldn't exist.

"So you're really not human," she said quietly.

"I am of the deep. A siren born from a powerful bloodline. Not some fragile land walker."

Chisa scoffed. “Well that was uncalled for—"

"Your presence here is tolerated, not required," Riven cut in, voice sharp. "Do not mistake the two."

Chisa blinked, then turned to Jurin with a slow smile. "You'd better get your man before I put hands on him."

Jurin shot her a warning look. "He's not my anything."

"Well, he kissed you, so..."

"That doesn't make him my anything!" Jurin's voice came out higher than she wanted. She cleared her throat. "And while we're on that subject." She turned to Riven, crossing her arms. "Don't do that again without asking. I don't care if it's how your kind communicates or whatever. You don't kiss people without their consent."

“I fail to see where the problem is, land walker. It resolved the language barrier between us, did it not?”

“Just don’t do it, okay? We don’t kiss people without their consent, period. Got it!”

Riven's smirk faded slightly. Something flickered across his face—not quite guilt, but something adjacent. "Noted," he said, and for once, there was no mockery in his voice. “My apologies.”

Chisa raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

The moment stretched, awkward and fragile, until Riven shifted on the couch. "This garment around my waist," he said, tugging at Jurin's track jacket. "It is... constricting."

"It's called clothing," Jurin said. "Land walkers wear it. You're going to wear it too."

"I do not see the necessity."

"Our eyes do," Jurin countered.

Chisa grinned. "Speak for yourself."

"Chisa."

"I'm just saying—"

"Don't."

Riven watched their exchange with something like fascination. "You two bicker like siblings."

“Oh, this is just the beginning,” Chisa grinned.

Riven made a cautious sound while shifting on the couch, staring at Chisa with guardedness.

Jurin sighed, rubbing her temples. 

This is fine. Everything is fine. 

She'd just found a half-drowned, electricity-wielding, possibly-insane siren prince on the beach, and now he was insulting her shop while her best friend was either encouraging or fighting with him. Totally normal Thursday. What could possibly go wrong?

"Okay," she said, standing up and dusting her shorts. "We need to figure out what to do with you."

Riven's gaze followed her. "I do not require your charity, land walker."

"Good, because I'm not offering charity. I'm offering common sense. We found you washed up on a beach. You’re naked under my jacket. And I doubt you can even walk. Do you even know how you got here?”

Silence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So until you can stand on your own two feet and figure out where you're going, you're staying."

Chisa's head whipped toward her. "We're keeping him?!"

"We're not keeping him. We're... hosting him. Temporarily."

"That's literally the definition of keeping him, Jurin!"

Riven's lips curved into a slow smile. "How generous. The land walker offers me shelter," His voice dripped with amusement. 

“We can always throw you back in the ocean to wherever the fuck you came from, fish boy,” Chisa blinked her eyes playfully, speaking in a tone that was sweet yet mocking.

Riven narrowed his eyes. “And what, pray tell, do you expect in return?"

Jurin met his gaze evenly. "I expect you to not be a complete nightmare and a pain in the ass. Can you manage that, your highness?"

Something sparked in his silver eyes—surprise, maybe, or the first hint of respect. "I make no promises."

"Uh huh."

Chisa groaned, flopping back into the beanbag. "I'm going to regret this."

Jurin ignored her and held out her hand to Riven. "Come on. Let's see if you can stand without face-planting this time."

He stared at her hand for a long moment, then up at her face. Then, slowly, he reached out and took it.

His palm was cool against hers. The faintest static prickled where their skin touched.

"One condition," he said.

Jurin gave him a deadpanned look. "You don't get conditions."

"I am a prince."

"And you're a guest in my shop. Different things."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't let go of her hand. "Fine. But I reserve the right to complain."

"You've been complaining since you woke up."

"And I intend to continue."

Chisa snorted. "I like him. I hate him, but I like him."

Jurin sighed, already exhausted. "Let's just go. Before something else happens."

She pulled him to his feet—and he immediately swayed, grip tightening on her hand as his legs buckled.

"Oh, for the love of—" Chisa jumped up and grabbed his other arm. "You said you could walk!"

"I can," Riven gritted out, face flushing. "I simply need... practice."

"You need a wheelchair?"

"I need nothing from—"

"Move your feet, or I'm dragging you by your ankles," Jurin interrupted.

“My God! He reeks!” Chisa gagged.

“My sincerest apologies for the offence of my scent attacking your nostrils,” Riven intoned with exaggerated politeness. “Shall I alter my very essence to better suit your delicate sensibilities?”

“BITCH, I WILL DROP YOU. HOW ABOUT THAT?!” Chisa barked, jolting him and almost making him trip over his own feet.

“CHISA!” Jurin hissed, tightening her grip on Riven’s arm. “Be careful! The last thing we need is him hitting the floor again.”

“Sounds like a skill issue,” Chisa retorted. “Start moving, fish boy.”

He glowered at her, but let them guide him toward the door.

The sunset hit his face as they stepped outside, and he flinched, turning his head away with a sharp hiss. Jurin shifted instinctively, blocking the light with her shoulder.

"Eyes down," she said quietly. "Look at the ground until you adjust."

He didn't thank her. But he also didn't argue.

They walked—shuffled, really—down the path toward the flat above the shop. Riven's weight pressed heavily against Jurin's side, his breathing uneven. But his hand never left hers.

Chisa caught her eye over his head and mouthed: You're in trouble.

Jurin mouthed back: Shut up.

But she didn't let go of his hand either.