Dressed for every ripple.
Two Wings
The dragonfly had come to the water to look at her wings.
She settled on a reed and leaned over the surface. For a moment, she could see one wing clearly. The other was hidden behind the reed’s reflection.
She moved to the next reed.
Now both wings appeared, but the breeze stirred the water before she could compare them.
“Nearly,” she said.
A Jin heard her from beneath the surface. He rose slowly, his red-gold scales catching the light.
“Are you looking for something?”
“My wings.”
A Jin looked at her back.
“They’re there.”
“I know where they are. I want to see whether they open the same way.”
She spread them again. A Jin came closer to look, and a ripple travelled from his nose to the reed.
The dragonfly watched her reflection bend and break apart.
“Sorry,” he said.
“That’s all right. It was nearly still.”
“I can help you find a better place.”
Before she could answer, A Jin swam towards a patch of sunlight near the bank.
A Helpful Turn
“Here,” he called.
The dragonfly followed him and settled on a thin branch above the water. From there she could see both wings, although one appeared longer than the other.
“Is that how they look to you?” she asked.
A Jin swam beneath her and turned to see.
The water moved. Her wings stretched, shortened, and slipped apart.
“I couldn’t quite tell,” he said.
“Neither could I.”
He swam a circle around the branch, looking for a calmer patch. The dragonfly waited while the rings spread across the water.
“I think you’ve already found it,” she said.
“Where?”
“Just before you came round again.”
A Jin stopped. His tail gave one last sweep, and another ripple reached the branch.
They watched it pass.
“I could swim more slowly,” he suggested.
“You could try.”
He moved so slowly that the dragonfly had time to lift one foot, clean it, and put it down again. Even so, a small line followed his tail.
“That one is smaller,” she said.
“Is it small enough?”
“It’s just reached my left wing.”
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise to my wing. It’s the reflection that keeps moving.”
A Jin looked down. His own reflection had stretched across the pond, making him appear much longer than usual.
“Mine does that too,” he said.
A Place to Wait
The dragonfly moved to a reed near the shade of an overhanging tree. A Jin followed, then stopped before he reached her.
“Would it help if I waited here?”
She looked at the distance between them.
“Perhaps a little farther back.”
He eased beneath the shade. The last ripple from his tail travelled towards her and touched the reed.
“Can you still see?” she asked.
“I can see you. I can’t see your wings in the water.”
The dragonfly turned on the reed.
“What if you stay near that stone? You’ll be able to look across.”
A Jin moved to the stone. The dragonfly waited until he had settled.
“Can you see now?”
“I think so.”
They watched the water. A leaf drifted between them, carrying a tiny insect towards the bank. The insect climbed off. The leaf continued on.
One ring of water reached the reed, then another, each wider and fainter than the last.
The dragonfly opened both wings.
A Jin could see their reflection beside the thin green line of the reed. One wing appeared slightly shorter.
“Your right one—” he began.
The dragonfly turned to look at him. Her reflection turned too.
“Which is my right?”
“The one on that side.”
“That’s my left.”
“From here it isn’t.”
She settled again, facing the bank.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” she said.
“I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve been ready for some time.”
One More Ripple
The dragonfly opened her wings once more. A Jin stayed beside the stone, watching from the shade.
The water smoothed around the reed. The two wings came into view, almost whole.
“I think they match,” A Jin said.
“I think so too. Let me see the ends.”
She leaned forward.
A leaf fell from the tree and landed between them.
A round ripple spread across the reflection. The ends of the wings bent towards one another, then disappeared.
A Jin and the dragonfly looked up at the branch.
“That wasn’t you,” she said.
“I know.”
The leaf floated past the reed.
“Perhaps it was trying to help,” A Jin added.
The dragonfly laughed. “It could have asked first.”
They waited while the new rings widened. A Jin remained beside the stone. The dragonfly shifted one foot on the reed, then held both wings open.
This time she saw their ends before the breeze reached the water.
“Well?” A Jin asked.
“They’re not quite the same.”
“Which one is longer?”
“I’m not sure.” She lifted off and turned in the air. “They seem to work together.”
She landed on the branch above him.
“Thank you for waiting.”
A Jin came out from the shade. Light moved across his back, and a ripple followed him towards the bank.
The dragonfly watched it go.
“Your turn,” she said.
“My turn for what?”
“To look at yourself.”
A Jin peered into the water. His reflection was already moving.
“I think I’ll need someone to wait.”
“I can do that,” she said, settling on the branch.
A Jin became very still. The dragonfly watched his reflection begin to gather.
Then a tiny insect climbed onto the end of the branch.
She leaned forward to see it.
The branch dipped, and a drop of water fell from one leaf.
A Jin looked up.
“Was it helping?” he asked.
“I think it was practising,” she said.
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