Written for Fluri Month 2016, prompt, "protection; wishes will come true." Also inspired by/based on the song "The Maiden and the Selkie" by Heather Dale.

Part I

Every summer, Flynn's mother sent him to the seaside to spend the holiday with his grandparents. This had been a great frustration to him as a child, because all his friends were still in the city. He wanted to spend his summers wreaking havoc on the scummy streets back home: racing toy boats down the gutter, swinging on lampposts, or playing football with a scrounged pig bladder stuffed full of newspaper. Instead, he was given a package of sandwiches and an admonishment to behave himself, and then shuttled away on a train to a drab cottage where he had no friends and nothing to do.

His grandparents met him at the train station every year from the time he was six, and every year his grandmother pinched his cheeks, which he hated. His grandfather drove them him in his car, which Flynn found very exciting. Nobody in Flynn's neighbourhood had a car - many of his friends had never even seen one in person - so at least he had something to brag about come the start of a new school year. It almost made up for the way his grandmother force-fed him slabs of cakes more akin to bricks than pastry.

The summer he turned eight was the first time he met Yuri. It was his first week with his grandparents, and Flynn had already gone through every book he'd brought. Bored, Flynn rustled through his bag and pulled out the thin, narrow wooden case that contained a flute. His mother said it would be good for him to learn an instrument. Flynn wasn't convinced, but she'd insisted he take it with him and practice this summer.

He sat on his bed with the music book propped up on a pillow and began carefully making his way up and down the scales. It would be more fun if he had a cooler instrument, he thought. Flynn had wanted to play something like a trumpet or a saxophone, but his mum said it would be rude to their neighbours, considering the thin walls in their flat.

On his twelfth run-through of Hot Cross Buns, his grandfather appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing in here?"

Flynn lowered the flute. "Practicing."

"It's a beautiful day out. You should be outside, enjoying the weather. It's the longest day of the year! Go play with your friends."

"I don't have any friends here."

"Then get outside and make some. You shouldn't spend your summer indoors. It's unnatural."

"Yes, sir." Flynn suspected part of his grandfather's motivation for kicking him out was a lack of patience for hearing him stumble through Hot Cross Buns one more time. Flynn didn't have much hope for making friends, though. His grandparents lived by the sea in a small village that was slowly dwindling in population. Not many people moved here, so there were not very many children. The ones that already lived here were so close-knit that none of his attempts to play with them in previous summers had gone over well.

Flynn packed up his flute, stuck his book under his arm, and slapped his cap on his head. He may not be able to meet new friends, but he could at least give his grandparents a break from his music. An old stone staircase led down the grassy hill to the beach, and when Flynn reached the base of it, he crossed the cool sand to a pile of boulders pressed against the hill. Perched on one, the cold grey sea stretched infinitely before him. On the other side of the beach, a family of seals lazed in the sand.

Sitting down by the sea had always been the one really nice thing about spending summers here. The smell of the cool, salty air and the rhythmic in and out of the waves put him at peace. It was strange, because he had been born and raised in a crowded city, but sitting by the ocean always felt like home.

With his book balanced on his knees, he put his flute to his lips and began to practice once more. He'd scarcely played for ten minutes when someone said, "Wow, you really stink."

Flynn cut off with a squeak and lowered the flute. A boy, probably about the same age as him, was leaning forward with his arms crossed on a boulder. He wasn't one of the local boys, as far as Flynn knew. His hair was dark and grown inappropriately long, and his eyes were as cold and grey as the sea.

"I'm just learning," Flynn said, defensive.

"That's pretty obvious."

"Can you play any instrument?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm better than you."

The boy grinned. "Guess you're right. My name's Yuri." He stuck out his hand.

Flynn took it with a friendly smile. "Flynn. So are you new in the village?"

Yuri clambered onto the boulder to sit even with Flynn. "Sort of. I visit every year, but I don't live in town."

"Oh, me too. I'm staying with my grandparents." He pointed at the cottage on top of the hill. "I haven't seen you here before, though."

"We're only here for the day to visit my grandma for her birthday, so it's not unusual you didn't see me."

"Oh, I see. Where are your parents?"

Yuri waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the village. "With my grandma. She's asleep now, though, so they didn't mind if I went exploring. Do you want to come with me?"

"Where?"

"Exploring, of course! I want to check out the sweet shop in the village, too. Do you have any money? I only have a farthing I found in the sand. Is that enough, do you think?"

"Er… you'll need at least a penny to buy any sweets. I don't have any, either. We can go exploring, though. Let me put my flute away." Flynn ran back up the steps and into the cottage to tuck his flute back into his bag. His grandfather yelled at him for being inside, but Flynn called a breathless, "I'm going to play, I promise!" as he rushed out the door again. Yuri was waiting for him at the base of the stairs, and then they took off to explore the village.

Flynn had never had so much fun at the seaside. The boring village was so much more entertaining when he had a friend to share it with. He and Yuri roamed the streets from top to bottom, pressing their faces against shop windows, kicking tin cans as far as they could, and starting a small war when they sat under a tree that "belonged" to the local kids. There was a small battle with sticks as swords, but considering how outnumbered they were, it ended in them running away, laughing uproariously as they climbed the old oak tree up the lane from Flynn's home to hide in the branches.

It was Midsummer's Day, which meant Flynn could stay out and play for many hours. When the sun began to set, he said, "I have to go in now, or my gran will be upset. Can we play again tomorrow?"

Yuri shook his head. "Nah, sorry. We're leaving really early in the morning, so I won't be able to see you."

"Oh." Flynn hung his head. "Will you be back?"

"We'll come back next summer! We always come for my grandma's birthday, so I'll be back next year on the same day."

Flynn brightened a little at that. At least he would see Yuri again. "Ok! I'll see you next year then!"

Yuri smiled and waved as he ran off to find his own family.

Flynn woke up early and hoped to maybe catch a glimpse of Yuri before he left, but was disappointed. His grandmother saw how glum he was over breakfast and tried to cheer up him with extra servings of sausage, but since she overcooked them until they were more like links of jerky, it didn't help. Flynn went back to his room to re-read one of the books he'd brought. He almost wished he hadn't met Yuri at all, because having experienced how fun the village could be with a friend, he just felt more bored than ever now that he was once again alone.

That afternoon, he picked up his flute and practice book and trudged down the steps to the beach. There was nothing else to do, so he may as well practice his scales over the summer so his mum didn't demand extra lessons in the fall to make up for it. He made himself comfortable on a boulder, just far enough from the tide to avoid getting sprayed, and began to play.

On his third attempt at Hot Cross Buns, something rose out of the water near him which nearly startled him off the boulder. He calmed down when he saw it was just a seal. He'd always thought seals looked funny on land, all blubber and flippers and flop, but when he watched them dart through the waves, he felt envious at how effortless they made it look.

The small seal flopped itself down on the sand nearby. It watched him with clear grey eyes and Flynn lowered the flute to smile at the curious animal. It had light grey fur splotches with black and its whiskers twitched as it looked back at him.

"Hello," Flynn said, uncertainly. He liked seals, but had never been this close to one. The seal let out a small bark and then rested its head on the sand. Apparently it was content to laze beside him, so Flynn paid it no mind as he picked up his flute and resumed his practice.

The seal remained at his side for the rest of the day. Occasionally it returned to the ocean, sometimes doing flips out of the water right in front of him that Flynn almost took for showing off, but it always returned to its spot by the rocks. If it thought his stumbling attempts at music were abhorrent, it didn't seem to mind.

That evening, he told his grandparents about his new friend over supper. "...and it didn't leave until I said goodbye and started up the steps. I think it likes me!"

"That seal has good taste, then." Gran ruffled his hair as she set a plate of meatloaf in front of him. "I'm not surprised, though. The seals down in the bay are very special animals."

"You've said." Flynn halfheartedly poked his meatloaf, worried about what ingredients he might discover within. "You said they were selkies."

His grandfather harrumphed behind a newspaper. "Don't go filling the boy's head with daft stories, dear."

"Oh, hush." She took her seat across from him. "I was telling the truth. Some of them are selkies."

"Really?" Flynn gazed at her in wonder.

"Of course not," his grandfather said. He lowered the paper to look Flynn in the eye. "I've lived by the sea for all my years, and I never saw any magical seal stripping off its skin to dance around the beach as a human. It's just a story for the kiddies, Flynn."

Gran sniffed and cut into her meatloaf, not seeming to notice how difficult it was to slice through. "Just because you haven't seen anything."

Flynn smiled at her but gave his grandfather a knowing look. He had believed Gran's stories when he was four but at the wise old age of eight, he was much too mature to believe them now.

For the rest of the summer, Flynn had a companion whenever he practiced down at the beach. He was certain it was the same seal that lay near him everyday; it had such intelligent eyes. After a few weeks, Flynn decided that the seal needed a name. Herbert, he decided, was a good name. If the seal disliked him calling it Herbert, it never made it known.

By the end of the summer, Flynn was able to sit on the rocks for hours, playing Mary Had a Little Lamb while Herbert snoozed beside him. He liked his seal friend, and he almost thought he'd miss him as much as his grandparents after he left. When the summer faded, it was time to return to the city and the friends he'd left behind. He bid farewell to Herbert, took a package of sandwiches from his grandmother (ham, cheese, and pickled onion; he threw them out the window) and returned to the city.

The following summer, Flynn repeated his pattern. His mum wanted him out of the house and his grandparents wanted him to visit. Just as he'd done every summer, he road from the train station on the leather bench seat of Grandpa's puttering car and then unloaded his suitcase full of clothes and books in the little guest bedroom.

He'd practiced his flute since the previous summer, so he hoped it wouldn't annoy his grandparents as much to hear him practice. But, he'd spent all winter and spring practicing in his family's stuffy flat, and he'd been looking forward to returning to the beach to play again. As soon as he was done unpacking, he grabbed the flute and ran down the steps to the boulder he'd grown so familiar with the previous summer.

"Herbert? Herbert! I'm back! Are you here?" The waves gently lapped the shore. Herbert was nowhere to be seen. Flynn slumped his shoulders. He supposed it had been naive to expect the seal to still be here after a whole year. Disappointed, he climbed onto his rock and began to practice alone.

Ten minutes later, the water bubbled and a slick, grey-furred head poked above the waves. Flynn lowered the flute and laughed. "Herbert!" His old friend, drawn by the music with which Flynn had filled the beach, returned to his old spot at Flynn's side. "I think I'm better this year. What do you think?" The seal watched him play, and then snorted and put its head down. Flynn took it as a sign he wasn't impressed. He scowled at the seal, "Yeah, well I'd like to see you play…."

Herbert wasn't the only returning friend. On Midsummer's Day, he went down to the beach earlier than usual. Herbert wasn't there yet, so he started to play alone. Only a few minutes later, he heard someone approach.

"You stink slightly less this year," Yuri said with a grin.

"I've been practicing."

"Clearly not enough."

Flynn hopped off the boulder. "Want to explore the rocks on the other side of the beach?"

"You bet!"

Flynn loved his summers. While he missed his friends in the city, he came to love the long, relaxing days he could spend sitting by the sea and practicing. Every year looked much like the last, with the only changes in how tall Flynn and Yuri were and how well Flynn could play the flute.

He wished Yuri could stay longer. He'd even gotten permission from his grandparents to invite Yuri to stay with them for a week instead of going home after the visit with his grandmother. Yuri couldn't, though. His parents didn't want him away from home for that long, he said. He didn't like the idea of being penpals, either - said he hated writing and it was no substitute for playing in person.

So, they made the best of what they had. Every year, from dawn to dusk on the longest day of the year, they romped through the village, built sandcastles on the beach, and explored the sparse woods on the other side of town. Flynn began to think of Yuri as his special friend. He had plenty of friends back home, who played with him throughout the school year, but the one day a year he got to hang out with Yuri became a day he looked forward to as much as Christmas.

Once his day with Yuri was over, Flynn appreciated his other friend for the rest of the summer. He sat on the boulder, sometimes for so long that tide came in and began splashing him. He'd come quite a ways from staggered scales and Hot Cross Buns and serenaded Herbert with long, flowing pieces that drifted into the breeze.

He could talk to Herbert, too. Flynn had always felt an affinity for the seals, though he couldn't quite explain why. The seal never responded, but Flynn could just tell by the look in his eyes that he understood. Flynn poured out his heart to that seal, telling him about his frustrations at school and things he was looking forward to. He told him about how he was afraid he was… different. That while his friends were discovering girls, he found himself drawn to other men, and how worried he was about what that meant for the future.

Herbert was easy to talk to about this, since Flynn didn't suppose seals had any concept of sexuality and probably wouldn't judge. Instead, he just listened. He always watched Flynn intently as he spoke, his grey eyes as intelligent as any human's. When Flynn confessed that he often tried to think about romance with his female classmates but his thoughts too often drifted to his once-a-year companion Yuri, he was certain the seal even looked intrigued.

When he was sixteen, Flynn sat by the sea in early August. He'd be heading home in a couple of weeks, but he wasn't looking forward to it. The city would be chaotic these days, he imagined.

"A war has started," Flynn explained to Herbert during a break between songs. "I don't suppose you even know what a war is, do you?"

Herbert looked back at him with curiosity.

"A war is… it's fighting. Hundreds of men trying to kill each other because their country told them to. I don't think there's an equivalent thing for seals." Flynn leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, staring out to sea. "It's odd. We've studied wars in school, of course, but they were always so far away. War seemed like something that only happened in books. But now we're at war with countries very close to us. Some of my friends have older brothers that are enlisting. It feels so much more real."

He looked down at Herbert, who was listening intently, and smiled slightly. "Sometimes I wish I could be a seal like you, and spend my days lazing on the beach instead of worrying about zeppelins dropping bombs on my city. I'm sure it must seem strange to you. Seals don't hurt other seals, right? So why are humans hurting each other?"

Flynn had been following the news ever since the inciting event, and even though he'd read the newspapers daily to watch the chain of events unfold, it still seemed hard to believe. "I'm not even sure I fully understand it myself. A month ago, you see, an archduke was killed in a country faraway by people from another faraway country. And now we're going to war against another faraway country. Strange, isn't it?"

It just seemed so odd that last June, he and Yuri had enjoyed the day lazing under the old oak tree up the lane, eating apples and shooting the breeze. A week later, an archduke was shot, which began a series of falling dominoes that led their country to war.

Herbert cocked his head. Flynn reached out to rub the top of Herbert's slick head. He knew, of course, that petting wild animals was dangerous. After all these years, though, it seemed ludicrous that Herbert would bite him. The seal rubbed his head against Flynn's hand, confirming that the touch was not at all unwelcome.

"They say it will be over by Christmas. I really hope so."

It wasn't over by Christmas. The next summer, he packed his bag for his annual visit to his grandparents house for what he feared would be the last time. He made his own sandwiches for the train ride now. After all, in only a few weeks he'd be seventeen. He wasn't a child anymore.

That didn't stop his grandmother from pinching his cheeks when she met him at the train station, even if she had to stand on tip-toes and tug his collar to make him bend over to do it.

"I've got it, Gran," he said, holding his suitcase tight. "You don't have to carry it for me."

"Are you sure, dear? We're walking all the way home."

"All the more reason for me to carry it. Is something wrong with Grandpa's car?"

Gran waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, you know how it is. Petrol is so expensive these days, what with the rationing and all."

"I understand." It was hard to avoid reminders about rationing in the city.

When he arrived at their cottage, he began to unpack. His flute sat on his pillow, waiting to be used when he finished.

"Are you going down to play by the rocks?" Gran asked, standing in his doorway.

Flynn hastily shoved his underpants into the drawer. "My flute? Yes, I was going to."

She beamed at him. "I do so love hearing you play. You have a gift, my love. It doesn't feel like summer anymore unless I hear your beautiful song drifting up from the beach."

Flynn smiled sheepishly. "Ah, well… I still have a lot of room to improve. I'm not really that good…."

"Is that why you always play for the seals and not your dear grandparents?"

"Heh. Well, that's what it was when I was younger, but now… I like playing for the seals. They're good listeners."

"They truly are." She smiled fondly. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: the seals in these waters are very special. When you speak to them, they understand."

Flynn nodded. He'd never spoken to anyone about how he felt about Herbert, fearing they'd think he was daft, but he was glad to hear his grandmother expressing the same sentiments. He supposed it wasn't that unusual, considering the stories she used to tell him as a child.

"You go on, then. I'm sure your seal friend misses you, and I can hear your lovely playing from up here."

Flynn kissed her on the forehead and then took his flute down to the waves to say hello to Herbert.

On Midsummer's Day, Flynn greeted Yuri with a hug. They met on the beach, as they always did. "Alright?" Yuri asked.

Flynn nodded with a smile. "Your hair is getting unreasonably long." He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and toying with the long strands that fell past Yuri's shoulders. "You should get it cut."

Yuri ran his hand through it. "I like it like this."

"Your school lets you grow it out?"

"They don't mind as long as I tie it up." They began walking away from the beach and toward the village without discussing it. Flynn loved spending time at the beach, but Yuri always preferred to venture into the village.

It was a perfect day, as his days with Yuri generally were. They came so rarely that every moment they shared together brightened even the worst of days. They stocked up on licorice and ate it under the oak tree, then spent a few hours playing football with some of the other boys in the village. Flynn had been very stressed lately, because his heart felt heavy every time he read a newspaper, but hanging out with Yuri made him feel light again. For a whole day, he avoided the topic of war.

As the sun sank low, they ended up back on the beach again. They sat in the sand, working together to build a sandcastle. They worked quietly for a while, but as orange stained the sky, Flynn knew he was going to have to face reality soon. There was something he needed to say, so he might as well spit it out now. Their time was growing short.

"I'm not going to be here next year."

Yuri stopped patting the sand wall. "You're not?"

"Probably. If all goes well, I'll be here the year after… but maybe not that one either. And…." Fear fluttered through his heart. "I might not ever come back."

Yuri's sandy hands dropped to his knees. "Why not?"

"I turn eighteen next summer. I have to enlist. Actually, I might enlist early. A lot of my friends turn eighteen before I do, so I think I'll sign up with them. Maybe we can be in the same unit."

Yuri's brow furrowed in confusion. "Enlist? Unit? What are you talking about?"

Now it was Flynn's turn to be surprised. "The war."

"The…? Oh! That one. That's right, that's still going on."

Flynn studied Yuri's face. Yuri had always been an oddball. He didn't keep up with the news, and his family - inasmuch as he talked about them - seemed to be outcasts who didn't keep up with the rest of society. Still, even people living under a rock must know that their country - and so many other countries - had been at war since last summer. He'd assumed Yuri wouldn't be here next year, either, since they were the same age and Yuri would be drafted when he turned eighteen, same as Flynn.

Yuri met his gaze over the castle. "You'll come back after it's over, though, right? Even though you'll be an adult and won't have to spend your summers here, you'll still come for Midsummer's Day, right?"

"I hope so. I will if I can. But if the war is over and I'm not here… then that means I didn't make it back." His heart ached in fear again. He didn't want to go to war. He didn't want to kill people, or get shot at in return, but he had no choice. It would be better to sign-up early and get some say in where he was posted, rather than waiting for the letter from the draft office telling him where he'd been assigned.

"You're coming back." Yuri reached out and grabbed Flynn's wrist. "Promise."

Flynn looked into Yuri's intent grey eyes and saw fear almost as pronounced as his own. He recognized something else in those eyes… someone else, and something clicked in his head. Something he thought he'd always known, but had never wanted to think about.

"Yuri… you're not human, are you?"

"Huh?" Yuri laughed a little. "What are you talking about? I look human enough, don't I?"

"You do now, but what do you look like the rest of the year?"

"Like this. Duh."

"It's why you spend your whole days with me even though you're allegedly visiting your grandmother. Why you're so interested in the village rather than the beach. Why you're so endearingly ignorant about a lot of the world."

Yuri was still holding Flynn's wrist, then tugged it forward and kissed the back of his hand. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

Flynn breathed in with shock. "Ah… no. Of course I won't. Yuri, what…?"

Yuri dropped his wrist. "Sorry, was that too much? I just thought, well…" He shrugged. "I know you like me."

"Hmph." Flynn looked to the. "If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have said anything. No need to make your head bigger than it is."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"Where?"

"To the ocean." Yuri spread his arm and gestured to the waves, which glimmered in the setting sun. "I don't know if I understand this 'war' you explained last time, but I know there's nothing like that in the ocean. You won't have to go."

For a moment, Flynn considered. He remembered watching seals fly through the waves and envying their grace, but…. He smiled a little and shook his head. "Don't be silly. I can't live in the ocean with you. I would drown."

"I'll teach you how to swim really good like I do."

"Besides, I can't run away. I still have my friends and family here, and I couldn't live with myself if my friends all enlisted and I ran away. I'm… afraid to go to war, but I have to. It's my duty."

Yuri sulked at the castle. "You still haven't promised to come back."

Flynn stared out into the waves. He really did wish he he could just run away into the water with Yuri and leave all this behind. He didn't want to think about war or the draft or the misery he was certain the future held for him. If only he could drop everything and swim away from this world, full of people that couldn't stop trying to kill each other. It was impossible, though. There would be no way to leave behind his guilt, and living the rest of his life knowing he was a coward who ran away from the fight when all his friends remained to serve would be intolerable.

Flynn murmured, "I don't know if I can make that promise."

"You have to." Yuri jabbed his finger at Flynn. "Promise me you'll come home."

Flynn gave Yuri a smile, but it was forced. "Alright. I promise."

Yuri grabbed Flynn's hand again and held it tight. With his other, he wiggled his fingers over their bond. "Woooo… there. Now you'll definitely keep that promise. Selkie magic."

Flynn's smile was a little more genuine this time. "Oh, that's magically binding, is it?"

"Sure." He crossed his arms and sat up on his knees. "So you won't be here next year, probably, but I'll keep my eyes on the human news. Sometimes the papers end up on the beach or in the sea. I'll keep my eyes peeled for the war to finish, and then the next Midsummer, you'll be here."

"Yes. I'll be here. Does it have to be Midsummer's Day?"

Yuri nodded. "Yeah. It's the only day I can come ashore. And I have to be back in the sea by midnight."

"What happens if you aren't?"

"Then the next time I go back, that's it. No more shape-shifting adventures for me. But, I've heard it's pretty tough to stay on land forever. There are those that have done it, but the pull of the sea is pretty strong."

Flynn thought for a bit. He wanted to ask Yuri to stay on land, then, so they could be together more than once a year. It would be pointless, though. He wouldn't want Yuri to give up his life in the ocean, even if Flynn wasn't leaving indefinitely.

"Hey, can you play something for me?" Yuri asked.

"With my flute? Sure. What do you want to hear?"

"That one you played on the last day of summer last year. It was all… fluttery."

Flynn nodded as he rose. "Partita in A minor, from Bach."

Yuri waved his hand. "Yeah, whatever it's called. I liked it."

Flynn fetched his flute from his bedroom and met Yuri by the rocks. He took up his familiar place on the boulder and Yuri flopped into the sand, kicked his shoes off, and let the waves tickle his feet.

"You should have told me." Flynn looked down at Yuri with a slight smile. "I would have believed you when I was a kid."

Yuri shrugged. "My mum would have killed me if I'd told anyone. Besides, I liked it this way. You never would have told me you fancied me if you'd known who you were talking to."

Flynn looked away with a blush. "That wasn't… well…."

"I can't believe you named me Herbert."

"You looked like a Herbert."

"I do not. I look like a…." Then he let out a puff of air. "Never mind. I can't even pronounce my name in this form. Start playing, will you?"

"So demanding." Nevertheless, he put the flute to his lips.

Flynn wished the evening never had to end. The orange sky faded to a deep purplish red as the sun sank into the waves. When he glanced down, Yuri had his eyes closed and bobbed his head along with the dancing notes. Flynn had practiced this piece so many times he didn't need to look at the music anymore, so his eyes were free to wander to the horizon. He watched the waves slide out and wished he could go with them, out into that boundless ocean and away from all the suffering of the world. He poured his heart into his music, and part of it joined the notes drifting away over the sea. Yuri was free to pass between both worlds, but this was the best Flynn was going to get.

He played until the moon had replaced the sun and stars speckled the sky. Flynn ended on a long, held note the soared across the waves, and then lowered it to his lap. "I need to get back. My grandparents will be worrying about me."

Yuri opened his eyes and sat up. "I should, too. I don't like cutting it too close with the midnight curfew."

"Heh. You're just like Cinderella."

"Who's that?"

"It's a fairy tale… I'll tell you some other time." He climbed off the boulder and then stood before Yuri. "I'll be here for the rest of the summer. You can listen to me whenever you want, no matter what form you're in."

"Sure. And you know… you don't have to be embarrassed about fancying me. You're not as cute as some of the seals I know, but I think I rather like you, too."

Flynn wasn't sure how he felt about being less attractive than a seal, but he could think about that later. For now, he just had to contend with the sudden, overwhelming desire to lean over and kiss Yuri. He wondered if Yuri felt it, too, considering the way he lingered.

But no. Flynn fought that urge down. A young man preparing to set off for war was not in a good position to begin a new romance. Yuri would still be around when the war ended… assuming Flynn was, too.

"Goodnight," he said tersely, gave Yuri a quick hug, and then hurried up the steps to his grandparent's cottage.

For the rest of the summer, Flynn played on the rocks at least once a day. Usually, Yuri flopped down on the sand in his usual spot and listened to the music. Sometimes he remained in the water, though, and sometimes he did backflips out of the waves. Flynn was certain he was showing off.

On Flynn's last day, he sat in the sand with Yuri's head in his lap. His fingers ran across the soft fur. "I'm catching the early train tomorrow, so this is goodbye."

Yuri sighed, his whiskers bristling.

"Thank you for sharing your summers with me. You only have one day ashore and every year you spend it with me. That means a lot to me." Flynn bent over and left a soft kiss on Yuri's head. "I promise I'll live. I promise I'll see you again. Wait for me."