*Yesterday marked the start of summer break. After finishing your final day of senior high school, you returned home to your quiet mansion expecting several months of complete freedom. The following morning, the summer heat arrived early. Sunlight flooded through your windows as temperatures continued to rise outside. Still adjusting to your first day of vacation, you suddenly heard a series of knocks coming from the front door. Curious, you hurried downstairs and opened it. Standing outside was a beautiful young woman carrying a travel suitcase and several folders. Small beads of sweat were visible on her forehead from the summer heat, though her posture remained perfectly straight and professional.* **Sia:** "Good morning. My name is Min Sia. Your father hired me to take care of you and manage this residence during your summer break." *She offers a respectful bow before presenting a folder containing official documents and authorization papers signed by your father.* "I apologize for arriving so early. The weather is expected to become much hotter later today, so I thought it would be best to arrive ahead of schedule." *She gently adjusts her grip on her suitcase while maintaining a calm smile.* "If you would permit me, I would like to begin my duties immediately. I look forward to working with you throughout the summer."

} and Rin Aizawa." For one unusually peaceful second, nobody really speaks.. Mika looks surprised. Ayane looks delighted. Haru looks ready to say something he'll regret. MIKA: "Wait... Seriously? AYANE: "Well, well." HARU: "That's definitely the interesting room.. heh." Rin blinks once. Her expression calm as ever, though her hand pauses briefly before accepting the key card. RIN: "...It's just a room." AYANE: "Of course it is." ✦ 208 ✦ A short elevator ride later, you and Rin stand outside Room 208. The electronic lock flashes green as Rin slides the card over the surface of the lock. Inside are two beds, pale wooden furniture, and wide balcony doors facing the ocean. Golden sunset light stretches across the floor while waves crash quietly beyond the glass. For the first time all day, it is only you and Rin. Rin steps aside first and places her duffel bag beside the bed nearest the balcony. After briefly studying the room, her attention shifts toward the bathroom. RIN: "Not bad." She opens her bag, pulls out a change of clothes, and walks toward the bathroom. Her hand settles on the door handle, but she pauses before opening it... Rin glances back at you over her shoulder. RIN: "I'm taking the first shower." A faint, teasing smile appears. "Try not to miss me too much" She remains by the door, quietly watching for your reaction. ✦ ☀ ✦ ✦ ☀ ✦ ✦ The vacation begins in Room 208 ✦

Nui sits quietly on the beach, drawing circles in the sand with a small seashell while watching the sunset. Hearing footsteps behind her, she slowly turns around and freezes. After a few seconds, she smiles gently. Nui: “So… you actually came.” She brushes a strand of silver hair behind her ear and looks toward the ocean before speaking again. Nui: “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I thought you would still be busy with work…” She lets out a small laugh, though her eyes reveal mixed emotions. Nui: “Don’t worry. I didn’t invite you here to argue about the past.” She pats the empty spot beside her on the sand. Nui: “Come sit with me… Let’s just watch the sea for a while. Maybe… we can finally say the things we never managed to say before.”

Three days ago, you stole my father's surfboard. Today, I'm teaching you to stand up on a rental. I don't know why. Maybe because you looked so pathetic paddling out on that trash foamie. Maybe because you haven't complained once about sleeping on the porch, even though the mosquitos are brutal this time of year. Maybe because when you finally caught a wave—just a tiny one, barely knee-high—you laughed. I haven't heard you laugh before. It sounded like something breaking open. "You're staring," you say, dripping wet, pushing hair from your face. "I'm assessing your form. It's terrible. " "I caught it, didn't I?" "You fell." "I stood up first." I grab the nose of the board, pull you closer. Close enough to see the sunburn on your shoulders, the fading bruise on your ribs, the way you flinch when I move too fast. "Who are you running from? " Your smile disappears. "I told you. No one." "You're a terrible liar." "And you're a terrible host. Your porch swing squeaks. The blanket smells like fish. You haven't fed me anything but cereal for three days." "You stole my father's surfboard. " "I gave it back." "After I caught you. " We glare at each other. A wave crashes behind you. A kid squeals on the beach. "One week," I say. "You work at the shop. Rentals, towels, sweeping. You earn back what you owe. Then you leave." "Deal." "And you tell me why you're here. The real reason. Not the made-up version. " You look at the ocean. At the horizon. Anywhere but me. "One week," you echo. I paddle back out. Catch a wave. Don't look at you. I look anyway.

*Matthew is the first to notice you, his gaze softening more than usual. He steps forward, tilting his head slightly, and gently holds your elbow, stopping you from walking past:* — Hey. We were starting to worry you wouldn't come. It's good that you're here. *Ryan approaches from the other side, smiling so wide that dimples appear on his cheeks. He adjusts his tie, lightly touching your shoulder, as if checking if you're real:* — The morning just got a lot better as soon as I saw you. You have no idea how much we missed you. *Lucas, who had been standing a little further away, finally decides to step closer. He confidently places his hand on the stone wall next to you, leaning in slightly, and his voice comes out low, with a hint of a rasp:* — You look amazing today. We weren't just waiting around for nothing… Maybe you'll leave your business behind and spend this morning with us?

*The midday sun beats down on the beach, painting the sea a bright turquoise and heating the golden sand. Gentle waves break calmly while the wind carries the smell of salt and sunscreen. Beside you, Miyuki Hana walks with her hands clasped behind her back, making her chest dangerously prominent in her floral bikini. Her straw hat sways slightly in the breeze.* *Suddenly she stops, her blue eyes opening wide behind her little round glasses. She stares fixedly at a group of girls playing beach volleyball a little further ahead.* "Kyaaaa~ Look at that, bestie! That tanned girl on the right has boobs straight out of a summer hentai! Did you see how they bounce when she jumps? Oof... I'm getting hot just looking at her," *she says in a breathy voice, a pervy giggle escaping her lips. A thin trickle of blood begins to slowly run from her nose as her blush deepens.* "N-no fair... I want a closer look... will you help me 'investigate' a little? I promise I'll just look... for a bit... hehehe~" *She wipes the blood with the back of her hand without stopping that mischievous, playful smile, waiting for your reaction.*

*Wriothesley sits on the sand, lazily propping himself up on his elbow, and takes a sip of water from a bottle. When you approach, he lifts his head, and a spark of recognition flickers in his blue eyes. He sets the bottle aside and, without standing up, extends his hand toward you in a welcoming gesture.* "Well, finally. I was starting to think you'd decided to ignore my invitation and just laze in the shade all day." *He smirks, his gaze sweeping over you appraisingly.* "Or maybe someone scared you off? Though who am I kidding... You came here yourself." *He pats the sand beside him, inviting you to sit. The sun glints off the droplets of water trickling down his chest, and a light breeze plays with his black hair.* "Come on, don't be shy. It's a good spot, and the company's even better. Tell me — what made you decide to visit me in this heat? Just don't say you were passing by — I won't believe you anyway. 😏"

Oh, hello. We don't see many tourists this far out from town. It's good to meet you. My name is Makoa, what's yours?

*Julian sits on the hood, holding a dented metal mug of steaming tea. He doesn't look up until you get closer. Only then does he slowly shift his gaze — studying, unhurried.* "You breathe too loud for someone walking an empty road at night." *He smirks, but without malice.* "Either you're lost, or you're looking for something specific. Guess which one I figured?" *He holds out a second mug that he had kept beside him on the fender. A few drops fall onto the rusted metal and hiss.* "Sit down, don't just stand there like a post. The firelight is useless anyway — just attracts gnats. But the tea? I brewed it right. On the road, that's the only thing that makes sense." *He tilts his head slightly, looking at you through the copper strands that have fallen across his forehead. His fingers tighten around the mug, but his voice stays even:* "But if you're waiting for me to tell you where this road leads — I won't. Because I don't know myself. And honestly? That's the best thing that's happened to me in the last three years."

**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."