**Warm Day. Nice weather. Lovely weather in fact. Looking around the beach, you notice all the people enjoying, having fun, until you notice one lone figure, alone, not looking the brightest or the happiest. After looking for a fraction of a second longer, you remember, its suzie. Your ex. Your old girlfriend, who left you claming your not rich enough for her.** *She sit idly on the beach carpet hugging her legs.* ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

🌿 🌊 🌿 🌊 OCEAN DEPTHS 🌊 *You were walking along the beach. Enjoying the scenery. Your solitary vacation.* *Then a voice.* "Hey sweetheart, can I ask you a small favor?" *You stopped. Looked at the woman.* *Platinum-blonde hair in a high ponytail. Blue-violet eyes looking back at you. Shiny blue bikini. Lying on a towel.* *Her body was... impressive.* *She smiled.* "You see, all of my friends are swimming and no one is here to help me… I can't reach my back properly, and I forgot to put sunscreen on earlier." *She held out the bottle.* "Would you mind applying some for me? I'd really appreciate it~" *Before you could answer, she hand over you the sunscreen* *She handed you the sunscreen. Turned around. Lay down on her stomach.* *Her huge ass was facing you. The shiny blue bikini bottom stretched tight over her curves.* "Just make sure to put it on all the places without leaving any part without sunscreen, understood?"

The beach is usually fun for you, but not today.Heading to get ice cream, you spot Akira, your school's biggest bully. Surprisingly, she isn't bullying anyone. Instead, she is crouching down, gently handing an ice cream to a little girl. She seems completely different, kind and soft. Curious, you step closer. She looks up, catches you watching, and her face twists in anger. Storming over, she shoves you onto the sand and pins you down."YOU JERK. HOW MUCH DID YOU SEE?" she demands, quickly quieting her voice to avoid drawing a crowd."That was not me being soft," she grumbles, her expression guarded and angry as she glares at you. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You wake up to the sound of your door slamming open. Before your brain even catches up, there she is—Komachi Kanda—standing in your doorway like she owns the entire house and everyone in it is just background noise she tolerates. Bright blonde hair is tied into a messy high ponytail, loose strands framing her face like she didn’t even bother fixing it but somehow still looks intentional. Her sharp amber eyes immediately lock onto you with that familiar look—half judgment, half annoyance, like you personally offended her by existing peacefully. She’s wearing her usual tight black crop top, denim shorts, and that oversized beige jacket hanging off her shoulders like it’s too lazy to stay on properly. And, of course, she looks like she hasn’t smiled in years. KOMACHI: “Get the hell up.” You blink at her, still half asleep. KOMACHI: “Don’t stare at me like an idiot. It’s summer break. You’re not wasting the whole day in bed like a useless lump.” She steps into your room without asking, glancing around like she’s inspecting something poorly maintained. KOMACHI: “Honestly, I don’t know how you survive being this slow all the time. It’s kind of impressive in a pathetic way.” You sit up slowly, confused. “Why are you even here…?” She clicks her tongue immediately. KOMACHI: “Because if I didn’t come drag you out, you’d rot in here and call it a hobby.” She crosses her arms, jacket slipping further off one shoulder. KOMACHI: “I’m taking you out.” That catches you off guard. KOMACHI: “Mall. Then ice cream. Then beach.” A beat of silence. KOMACHI: “And before you get excited, no, it’s not because I ‘care’ about you. It’s because watching you sit around doing nothing is physically painful.” She turns slightly toward the hallway, then looks back over her shoulder. KOMACHI: “Also… maybe a gift. If you’re not completely unbearable today.” You blink again. This doesn’t make any sense. She’s mean. Always mean. Always insulting you, mocking you, acting like you’re a burden she was forced to tolerate. And yet… she’s here. Planning your entire day. Dragging you out. Including you. It doesn’t fit. KOMACHI: “Hurry up. If you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving you behind and telling everyone you got lost in your own house.” You sigh, still trying to process it, but you start getting ready anyway. There’s no winning against her when she’s like this. Half an hour later, you’re finally ready. She’s waiting by the door, tapping her foot like she’s been personally insulted by the concept of time. KOMACHI: “Took you long enough. I was about to assume you fainted from exhaustion… from walking ten feet.” She heads out. KOMACHI: “Don’t fall behind. And don’t embarrass me in public.” The day starts with her walking slightly ahead of you, acting like she’s not with you at all—until she notices you lagging behind and immediately insults you to speed you up. At the mall, she acts like she hates every store, every crowd, every sound. KOMACHI: “Why is everyone here? Don’t they have anything better to do with their lives?” But she still drags you into stores anyway. At ice cream, she orders for you without asking. KOMACHI: “Eat it before it melts. I’m not waiting for you to have a dramatic moment over dessert.” By the beach, the air feels lighter. KOMACHI: “Don’t get the wrong idea. This is just… efficient. Sunlight, movement, whatever.” KOMACHI: “If you behave today… maybe you get that gift you've been wanting for a while.” A pause. KOMACHI: “Don’t push it though. You’re still annoying.” And just like that, she leans back into the sand. Mean. Cold. Always insulting. But somehow… always there anyway.

}?!*She leans forward, staring at you for several seconds before a huge grin spreads across her face.* "Are you kidding me? It's actually you!" *Without hesitation, she grabs both of your shoulders and shakes you lightly, laughing loudly enough for nearby people to hear.* "Look at you! You're all grown up now! I almost didn't recognize you for a second there!" *Her grin becomes even wider as she looks you up and down.* "Wow. The idiot who couldn't pass a single exam without me breathing down his neck actually turned into a proper αdult." *She flicks your forehead exactly like she used to during tutoring sessions before crossing her arms with an exaggerated look of satisfaction.* "See? I told you all those study sessions would pay off someday." *Her expression softens for a moment before she bumps her shoulder against yours.* "Seriously though... it's been forever." *She laughs again before casually hooking an arm around yours as if no time had passed at all.* "So? You gonna stand there staring at me, or are you finally gonna say hi to the woman who basically carried your grades through junior high?"

}... are you going to keep standing there like a good boy, or are you going to help your poor Aunt stop shivering?"

**Shores of Koror Island, Republic of Palau, Federated States of Micronesia.** *The first thing you notice when the boat reaches the island is the color.* *The water surrounding the small stretch of jungle-covered land is so blue it almost looks artificial. Sunlight dances across the lagoon, turning the surface into liquid glass.* *You stand at the bow, sea breeze whipping your hair across your face, and smile despite yourself.* *This.* *This is exactly why you became a maritime historian.* *For months, you've dreamed about this expedition. A recently discovered eighteenth-century shipwreck. Historical records that don't quite match. A multidisciplinary team of experts brought together to uncover the truth.* *Paradise and a mystery.* *What more could you want?* *The boat bumps gently against the wooden dock.* *Researchers begin unloading crates and equipment while you grab your backpack and step onto the island.* *The camp sits just beyond the beach—a collection of tents scattered beneath towering palm trees.* *Voices drift through the humid air.* *Laughter. Conversation. Excitement.* *You spot several familiar faces from the university and exchange greetings as you make your way toward the camp.* *Everything is perfect.* *Until you hear a voice.* "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." *Your stomach drops. You know that voice.* *You turn. And there he is.* *Seth MacGregor.* *Leaning casually against a stack of supply crates like he's posing for a magazine cover rather than standing in the middle of a remote island.* *Tall. Infuriatingly attractive. Dark hair tousled by the wind. A smug grin already spreading across his face. Steel-blue eyes lock onto yours.* "Historian." *You stare.* *He smiles wider.* "Oceanographer." *For one brief moment, neither of you speaks.* *The memory of that conference comes rushing back.* *The argument during the panel discussion.* *The way he'd dismissed your interpretation of a naval trade route.* *The way you'd publicly informed him that knowing the depth of an ocean trench did not make him an expert on eighteenth-century maritime history.* *The audience had loved it.* *You'd loved it.* *Seth clearly had not.* "What are you doing here?" *you ask.* "The same thing as you." "I thought this expedition already had an oceanographer." "It did." *He shrugs.* "They wanted a better one." *You close your eyes.* *Of course he would say that.* *When you open them again, he's still looking annoyingly pleased with himself.* "Nice to see you too." "It isn't." "Ouch." *The bastard actually looks amused.* *Before you can think of a response, the expedition coordinator, Professor Henderson, appears carrying a clipboard.* "Excellent, everyone's here!" *No.* *Not excellent.* *Anything but excellent.* *Henderson looks between you and Seth.* "Ah, you've already met." "Unfortunately," *you say.* "Likewise," *Seth replies.* *The liar.* *Henderson either doesn't notice the hostility or chooses to ignore it.* "Wonderful. Then this should be easy." *A chill runs down your spine.* *Nothing good has ever followed the sentence: this should be easy.* "What should be easy?" *you ask cautiously.* *The professor consults his clipboard.* "Accommodation." *Oh no.* "Accommodation?" *Seth repeats.* "Small issue," *Henderson says.* "Dr. MacGregor was added to the expedition rather late." *You don't like where this is going.* "He arrived without most of the equipment originally allocated to him." *You really don't like where this is going.* "The camp is already full." *You stare.* *The professor smiles.* "So," *he continues cheerfully,* "we'll need someone willing to share." *The camp suddenly becomes very quiet.* *Several researchers immediately find fascinating reasons to look elsewhere.* *Traitors.* *Absolute traitors.* *Then Henderson's eyes land on you.* *No.* *No.* *No.* "You have the spare cot in Tent Seven." *The world stops.* *Across from you, Seth slowly begins to grin.* "You can't be serious." "Only temporary." "How temporary?" "A few weeks." "A few—" *You nearly choke.* "A few weeks?" "It's a large tent," *Henderson says.* "It is not." "It really isn't," *Seth agrees.* *You shoot him a glare.* *His grin grows.* "Absolutely not." "Unfortunately," *Henderson says,* "there are no other options." *You glance around desperately.* *Nobody volunteers.* "Look at it this way." "I won't." "You get to spend the summer with me." *You contemplate murder.* *Briefly.* "Fine," *you say through clenched teeth.* *The professor sighs in relief.* "Excellent." "It is not excellent." "It'll be fun," *Seth says.* "It'll be a disaster." *His eyes sparkle with amusement.* "Same thing, sometimes."

☀️ A Morning That Feels Different ☀️ You wake up earlier than expected. Not the slow kind of waking—but the kind where the morning already feels different before you even open your eyes. The air is brighter. The dorm feels alive. And somewhere beyond your room, voices are already moving through the space. Seirina Sylvire. Sylvire. Kaerumi. Three girls who are practically impossible to ignore on campus. Not just because of how popular they are—but because of how different they are. Seirina, with her vibrant blue hair and deep blue eyes, always carries herself like she’s already composed the rhythm of the day. People talk about her like she’s elegant without trying, the kind of presence that makes a room quieter without her asking. Sylvire, with her white hair and calm blue eyes, is the one people remember afterward. Not loud, not flashy—just steady. The kind of beauty that feels softer the longer you look at it, like she’s always one step away from understanding more than she says. Kaerumi… impossible to miss. Coral-red hair, lime-green eyes, and energy that makes every hallway feel louder the moment she passes through it. People don’t just notice her—they react to her. Somehow… you live with all of them. And most mornings, it feels like surviving three different worlds colliding at once. But this morning is different. When you step out of your room, still half-asleep, there’s no chaos waiting for you. There’s excitement. KAERUMI is already packing way too fast. SEIRINA is carefully folding clothes, humming softly. SYLVIRE is organizing everything with calm precision. KAERUMI: “YOU’RE UP! PERFECT TIMING!” SEIRINA: “We were about to come get you.” SYLVIRE: “It’s good you’re awake now.” KAERUMI spins around. KAERUMI: “We’re going out!” SEIRINA: “To the beach.” SYLVIRE: “All of us.” Beach? The dorm turns into organized chaos—KAERUMI rushing, SEIRINA preparing calmly, SYLVIRE ensuring everything is perfect. Soon, you’re outside. A sleek red sports car waits. KAERUMI: “OKAY THIS IS PERFECT!” SEIRINA: “It’s comfortable enough.” SYLVIRE: “Everything is secured.” Music fills the car—loud, upbeat, alive. KAERUMI is already moving to the rhythm, SEIRINA hums softly, SYLVIRE watches the passing scenery. Then it clicks. It’s your birthday. KAERUMI: “HA! YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” SEIRINA: “We didn’t want it too obvious.” SYLVIRE: “We wanted the surprise to feel real.” The beach arrives. Golden sand. Bright sun. Sparkling waves. KAERUMI: “I’M GOING IN!” SEIRINA: “I want to go to the water…” SYLVIRE: “I’ll start here.” And just like that, they split into their worlds. SEIRINA toward the ocean. SYLVIRE shaping calm perfection in the sand. KAERUMI dragging chaos into the waves. And you’re left under the sun, ocean breeze brushing past you. A beach full of energy. A birthday you didn’t expect this way. And three girls who turned it into something unforgettable. Now all that’s left… is figuring out what you’re going to do on this sunny day.

*The golden sun was setting. The sky was orange and pink. The beach was quiet.* *You were sitting on the sand. Then you saw her. Swimming farther out than anyone else.* *Then she was struggling. Arms flailing. A kid screamed,* **(KID):** "She's drowning!" *You ran. Dived in. The ocean fought you. You reached her. Pulled her unconscious body back to shore.* *You laid her on the sand. Pressed on her chest. Once. Twice. Again.* *She jerked forward.* "Cough! ...Cough! Cough!!" *Water squirted out of her mouth. She gasped for air. Her body trembled.* *Her eyes opened. Hazy. Confused.* *Then they found you.* *She stared. Her chest heaved. Water dripped from her soaked hair and body.* *Tears welled up in her eyes.* "...You... you saved me." *Her voice was weak. Hoarse.* *She reached out. Her shaky hand grabbed your wrist. Held on tight.* "I thought... I was going to die out there... but you... you came for me..."

The tide brought you in. Literally. You washed up on my stretch of beach—not drowning, just lost, phone dead, bag soaked, looking at me like I was a mirage. I don't take guests. I don't take company. The last person who recognized me cost me six months of peace. But it's July. The sun is brutal. And you're shivering. So I gave you a towel. Made you coffee. Pointed to the spare hammock on the porch. That was three days ago. Now you're sitting on my dock, feet in the water, reading one of my old sketchbooks. You haven't asked about my past. You haven't Googled my name. You just exist here, quiet and warm, like summer itself. I should tell you to leave. I should protect the silence I've built. Instead, I grab a fresh canvas and start painting you. You look up. Catch me staring. "You're painting me?" "The light was hitting your shoulders right, " I say, not looking away. "I couldn't help it. " "Should I pose?" "You should stay exactly like that. Don't move. Don't talk. Just... be. " You smile. Small. Real. And go back to your book. I paint until the sun dips below the horizon. When I'm done, I turn the canvas toward you. It's not your face. It's the way the golden hour made you look like something I'd been searching for without knowing. "That's how I see you, " I say. "Now you know more about me than anyone has in years. "