☆ before sunset ☆

Outside of a small town, there sits a shrine, long forgotten. It stands weary over a steep, rocky shore on splintering stilts and beams, its wooden walls far weathered through the years its spent here.

And watching over it from the water, a dragon. A god.

Johnny is a photographer who comes to admire this old shrine's beauty. He walks carefully on its deck overlooking the water, the wood creaking underfoot. He came at this time, just before sundown, because the villagers told him it was the safest time, when the waters were still.

"The lake is settling for the night," they told him, and he chuckled at how they spoke as if it were alive.

It is a beautiful sight though, the huge span of water as still as glass, reflecting the distant other shore with such clarity that he must take a shot.

It's a beautiful picture, tinted orange by the sun setting over far mountains, but when he looks closer, he notices something strange.

A shadow under the water. A /large/ shadow.

The sound of splashing makes him look up, and he watches as the water ripples, peace disturbed.

Just a fish, he tells himself, but as he goes back to exploring the shrine, he can't shake the feeling that something is watching him from those murky depths.

He's staying in the village for a few days while he researches local legends and shrines, so when he gets back to his motel, he immediately goes to the local bar to ask around some more about the one he visited earlier.

"There's a thing lurking out there, you know," an old man tells him while they sip beers, "under the lake's waves. Some says it's that old shrine's guardian, others say it's a demon, waiting for the day the wood'll give way and fall into the lake so it can swallow the shrine up."

Such stories aren't that believable to Johnny but amusing nonetheless. He chuckles, "Oh, really? I didn't see anything when I was out there today."

The man pauses, looks at him over the rim of his glass, and murmurs, "You didn't see it, but it saw you."

When he heads out to the shrine the following day, again just before sundown, he thinks back on what the old man told him, as well as that strange shadow in his picture and the noise that followed.

He's overthinking it, surely. He's letting old legends get to him.

He may be doing a project over these things, but he shouldn't let them get in his head.

Still, when he arrives and begins creeping through the shrine, the thoughts weigh on him, particularly when he leans on the cracked rails and looks out over the water.

He sighs, wondering if there really is something looking back.

And there is, only it's behind him instead.

"What're you looking for?"

The voice likes to startle Johnny out of his skin, and he whips around to look bewildered at the young man standing just a few feet away.

"Who- What are you doing here?" he asks quickly.

The man tips his head to the side, a little smile tugging at his lips. "I asked you a question first."

Johnny purses his lips and eyes the stranger warily, taking in the sight of him.

He's rather small, terribly unassuming, dressed in traditional clothes, all the way down to wooden sandals that Johnny thinks he /surely/ would've heard clacking as he approached.

Despite that cute face, he's suspicious, to say the least, but Johnny's intrigued at the same time.

"I'm looking for the- the beast in the lake," he answers, tossing a little glance over his shoulder to the still waters. "I heard some rumors, so I thought I'd check it out."

"Do you believe them?" the man asks as he walks over, and, sure enough, his sandals click as he walks.

Johnny definitely would've heard that. He keeps his guard, eyeing the man as he steps up beside him to look out over the railing.

"Not really," he answers quietly. That seems to amuse the man, but he doesn't say anything, so Johnny goes on, "Your turn, what're you doing here?"

"My family's watched over this shrine for many years," he answers, glancing up at Johnny with a little smile as he leans on his elbows on the railing. "I'm just checking in on it."

That gives Johnny some ease, but he still keeps an eye on him as he turns back to the water.

"Yeah? You guys have let it get pretty, uh-" he glances at the wood under his fingers, picking at some of the peeling red paint, "-rugged, huh?"

The man chuckles. "I suppose. We're poor, it's hard to keep up, but so long as it doesn't fall in the lake, I think we're doing good."

"Good point," Johnny mumbles, finally relaxing enough to take his eyes off the man to look out over the fiery-colored water once again.

For a little while, it's quiet, a peaceful silence that Johnny's never known in the city.

Save for the wind, the distant calling of a crow, and his own heartbeat, there's not a sound to be heard for miles.

He risks a glance at the man beside him, who seems to be soaking the quiet up while looking at the water with some sort of wistful expression.

"Do you believe the rumors?" he asks, keeping his voice low to not disturb the peace.

The man smiles. "I think there's some truth to them."

"Like what?"

"I think the beast is the lake," he answers, and when Johnny's quiet for a second, he looks over. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I can see that," Johnny replies with a slow nod of his head and looks back to the water. "A lot of monsters in stories end up just being representations of some element or something, so that'd make sense."

Surprisingly, that gets a laugh out of the other man.

Johnny looks over, raising an eyebrow in question. "What, you disagree?"

"Oh, no, no," he answer through giggles, holding one long sleeve up to cover his smile.

And, terribly, Johnny finds himself momentarily struck by just how beautiful he is, smiling so bright with such a brilliant twinkle in his eyes while the evening sun kisses the apples of his cheeks.

Heart suddenly and embarrassingly in his throat, Johnny stammers, "W-What then?"

"Oh, you're just-" the man giggles again and looks up at him, eyes alight with amusement, "I don't know, I just like you."

Of course, Johnny only gets that much more flustered, but he covers it with a huffed laugh, quickly looking back to the far opposite shore.

"You don't even know my name."

"Well then, what is it?"

Surprised, he stares at the stranger before answering, "Johnny."

"Johnny," he says back, voice soft. Then, just as the sky is beginning to purple to reflect the deep shade in those big eyes, he smiles, "I'm Dejun."