A Princess, A Pebble, And The Water That Listened

Weekends are supposed to be sacred.

Not sacred like shrines or holy relics. No. I mean sacred like royalty time. For me, Princess Sumire of the Kappa River Clan, that usually means - morning cucumber baths, midday posture and fan-etiquette, afternoon lessons on how to float gracefully, even against strong currents, and Grandmother reminding me ‘‘A princess never slouches, even underwater”.

Exhausting, yes, but I have gotten fond of it. Other Kappa children don’t have my life afterall. I must be grateful. I really am.

But, this weekend started differently.

Grandmother called me over with her serious voice. The voice she uses only for diplomacy, divine rituals, and when someone has eaten her cucumbers without permission.

She pressed a tiny silk pouch into my hands. Inside was the Sacred River Pebble, a family heirloom.

‘Deliver this to the riverside shrine,’ she said. ‘Quietly. Carefully. With dignity.’

I bowed, perfectly poised. ‘Yes, Grandmother.’

Easy. Or so I thought.

I walked along the river path with my hood up, my fan open, and my back as straight as a bamboo stalk. I was elegance incarnate. I told my attendants to walk on ahead to make sure we don’t come across any human. But in reality, I was enjoying the weather and the freedom. I twirled round and round, floating on top of the flowing water. Not in it, just hovering on top of the water, like a pretty cloud. 

Then disaster struck. Gasp.

The pouch loosened. The pebble slipped. NOOO!

I watched in horror as it rolled down the slope.

Bounce. Bounce. Plop… — straight into the rushing river.

OH NO. I froze. Completely forgot how to breathe. My fan slipped. My composure shattered.

I wanted to scream, but princesses do not scream unless monsters are involved. Technically, Kappas are counted as monsters but that’s another debate for another day. And losing a sacred pebble to the river definitely felt like a monster situation. I got ready to scream, but I didn’t. I was graceful. I was a lady.

I scrambled into the shallow water, splashing everywhere, scooping with my fan, kicking pebbles, yelling at the river.

‘Give it BACK!’

The current ignored me. Rude.

I tried not to cry, because tears would ruin my royal image. But my eyes stung anyway. That was when I heard footsteps on the gravel. Someone humming.

What were my attendants doing allowing a human slip past?

I turned, very annoyed and ready to scare a human off. I froze again. Because there he was.

Mutsuki-sensei.

In weekend clothes, soft sweater, loose trousers, sandals, carrying two convenience-store bags. His long hair was tied back casually, some strands falling over his cheeks. He looked pretty.

Pretty like a lady. Pretty like a prince. Pretty like something in between that confused my princess brain. I knew pretty when I see it, but I couldn’t put a name on what kind of beauty this was.

He looked at me, standing knee-deep in the river.

‘Sumire? …Are you fishing?’

‘ABSOLUTELY NOT.’ I snapped open my fan to hide my wet sleeves. ‘I get served food, I don’t catch them.’

‘Of course. Apologies.’

‘I am performing a royal assessment of river spirits, thank you very much.’

He looked at the splashes. Then at my dripping fan. Then at me.

‘…You dropped something, didn’t you?’

I wilted. ‘…Maybe.’

He walked closer without hesitation, stepping right into the water. The hem of his jeans soaked instantly, but he didn’t care. He crouched beside me.

‘What did you lose?’ He asked gently.

‘The… The sacred pebble…’ My voice wobbled. ‘Grandmother will be very upset if I go to the shrine without it…’ My eyes started to water and face started to scrunch up.

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t scold. He didn’t sigh dramatically like my tutors do.

He just said, ‘Alright. Then let’s get it back.’

He rolled up his sleeves. His arms were soft-looking, elegant, but with faint strength underneath. I stared because he looked… confusingly beautiful. Not manly. Not womanly. Just… Mutsuki sensei.

He placed his hand on the river’s surface. And everything changed.

The current slowed. The water shimmered. It felt like the river itself was holding its breath.

‘Water likes you,’ he said quietly. ‘Ask it again.’

‘I DID ask.’ I huffed. ‘It ignored me.’

‘You asked like a princess.’ He said flatly. ‘You probably screamed, or demanded too.’ 

Bingo… He was right

‘What’s wrong with that?!’

‘Nothing,’ he said, smiling. ‘But princesses command. Children… connect.’

I didn’t really understand, but I trusted him. He always sounds like he knows secret things.

I knelt beside him and whispered, ‘Um… water? Please? I dropped something really important… Could you help me?’

The river was quiet. I look at sensei for approval and he was just smiling. He nodded to urge me to continue.

‘I am sorry for raising my voice earlier…’

More silence.

‘SEE???’ I started to angry cry. ‘NOTHING EVER—‘

Then, a glow. A swirl of gentle movement. A spiral funnel forming between our hands. Glowing softly, my pebble floated up…

…right into my palms.

I stared with mouth open. This was some magic I’ve never seen nor experience before!

‘Sensei! I DID IT!’

‘You did,’ he said, smiling like warm sunlight. ‘See? Respect isn’t given because you’re perfect. It’s given because you’re honest.’

I clutched the pebble to my chest. My heart felt warm and shaky.

‘I… I thought princesses weren’t supposed to ask for help.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Says who?’

‘…Generations of kappa tradition.’

He snorted. Actually SNORTED. A very un-princesslike sound.

‘Sounds exhausting.’

‘It is,’ I admitted.

We walked back along the riverbank together. I carried the pebble. He carried his groceries — milk, snacks, something pink in a bottle. He looked so normal. Not powerful. Not mysterious.

Just a person. A little tired. A little soft. Very calm.

We reached the bridge. He stopped and said:

‘You did well today, Princess Sumire.’

My cheeks warmed and my chest did a strange flutter.

‘You too,’ I said. ‘You’re very good at… everything. Even talking to water.’

‘I try.’

He turned to go, but I tugged his sleeve gently.

‘Sensei?’

He looked back.

And he looked… pretty again.

Pretty like moonlight. Pretty like ripples. Pretty like someone who could be a boy or a girl or something in between, and it didn’t matter.

‘Today,’ I said shyly, ‘you looked more like… you. Not just our teacher.’

He blinked, obviously taken aback by my rare show of kindness.

Yeah be grateful that a princess like me is praising you!

 He smiled. A real, gentle, quiet smile. I liked it.

‘Good,’ he murmured. ‘It’s nice to be myself sometimes.’

When he walked away, the river rippled pink again.

So this is the mentioned level even a princess like me will not achieve. A gifted genius. The kind of natural talent paired with a good, humble heart.

My attendants come running, sensing unknown magic powers through the waters. I told my them it was the sunset reflecting.

But I knew better.

It was Sensei. His voice. His magic. His something… The kind of energy even rivers listened to.

I wrote exactly this on my journal.