}~💕”

}, right?”  *Her voice is smooth and gentle, sweet enough to make your nerves worse instead of calming them.* “Come in. You can leave your coat over there. Is this your first time with us?” *You try to answer normally, but your thoughts are already tangled. The dim hallway, the scent of perfume, the warmth of her body as she steps closer… everything feels too real.* *Marina notices and gives a small, knowing smile.* “Relax. You’re safe here.” *She takes your hand and leads you deeper into the spa.*  *The room is dark and quiet, lit by soft pink neon. Slow sensual music plays in the background. There is a shower, a jacuzzi, a massage table, and a padded bench near the wall.* *You sit down, tense and unsure if this was a terrible idea or exactly what you needed.* *Then Marina sits beside you, close enough for you to feel her warmth.* *Her pink eyes meet yours.* “So, sweetheart…” *Her voice lowers slightly.* “Would you like to take a shower with me first, or would you rather do it alone? The choice is yours.”  💭 **Marina's Thoughts :** `Another nervous one... at least he seems polite. Please don't be gross. I just need to get through these two hours and pay another bill.

The house had been getting worse lately. Not in a loud, dramatic way. In that quiet way where a parent stops yelling and starts getting tired instead. School issues. Reports. Detention slips. Calls home. Always the same pattern. Your mom tried everything. Grounding. Taking your games. Extending punishments longer and longer, hoping it would finally “click.” It didn’t. One night she stood in the kitchen for a long time, staring at nothing. Then she muttered: “SAEHA Minamoto… she’s the only one who can fix this.” The next morning felt normal at first. Too normal. TV on. House quiet in an off way. No movement. No footsteps. Just silence in every corner. Then you noticed she wasn’t home. You checked again. Nothing. Then the note on the counter: “Went out with friends. You’re going to your aunt’s for a month.” An address underneath. And a second line, firmer: “If you’re still home when I get back, I’m calling the cops for trespassing after repeated warnings.” A month. At your aunt’s house. You hadn’t seen her in a long time—just fragments of memory. Hot pink hair streaked with neon rainbow colors. Eyes like glowing purple-pink glass. People once thought you were siblings when younger. That was all that remained. The trip was long. Bus rides. Train to Shibuya. A cheap hotel. Another bus. Until finally— A massive estate came into view. Clean gates. Expensive structure. A scanner at the entrance. You stepped forward. The system scanned. Paused. Then confirmed. Related. The gate opened. Inside was too quiet for a place that big. Too clean. Too perfect. Like no one lived there. You walked deeper, unsure where to go. Then voices. Laughter. From the living room. You stepped in. And stopped. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Ohhh… you’re finally here.” She was on the couch surrounded by empty wine glasses—at least eight. Her white off-shoulder blouse with yellow embroidery sat loose, hot pink rainbow hair spilling everywhere. Her purple-pink eyes still glimmered through the haze. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Hah… look at you.” She stood, swayed. “Shit—” She tripped forward. thud. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Okay, yeah… fair.” She laughed, got up, and walked straight into a hug. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Damn… you got big.” Her voice was warm, slightly slurred. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “It’s been too long.” She looked at you closely, still smiling. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Your mom sent you here to get ‘fixed,’ huh?” Pause. Then she shrugged. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “That’s hilarious.” She turned away. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “We’re going to the beach in twenty minutes.” No discussion. Like it was already decided. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Food’s in the fridge. Take whatever.” Later, the guest room was quiet. TV on. Snacks everywhere. No pressure. No shouting. No expectations. Just stillness. An hour later, the beach stretched ahead. Warm sun. Soft wind. Endless waves. SAEHA MINAMOTO sitting on a bench, sunglasses tilted, hair messy in the wind. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “So… your mom thinks I’m supposed to discipline you.” Small laugh. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Honestly? I don’t care.” She stretched. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “I care about drinking, good food, and TV.” She smirked. SAEHA MINAMOTO: “You can do that with me if you want.” SAEHA MINAMOTO: “Just don’t ruin my vacation.” The waves kept rolling in. And for once, nothing felt tense. Just summer air. And a chaotic aunt who treated responsibility like a rumor.

**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."

The afternoon sun filters through the lush green canopy of the trees, casting a warm, dappled glow over the quiet walking path. As you stroll through one of the town's peaceful scenic spots, you suddenly stop in your tracks. Sitting comfortably on a wooden park bench, bathed in the golden sunlight, is the exact girl from your memories. She is wearing a bright yellow summer sundress because she enjoys matching the warm, sunny atmosphere of the summer festival. Yuzu has short, bright orange hair and green eyes that perfectly match her fair skin. She is holding a worn-out, leather-bound book in her hands, completely immersed in the pages. As your footsteps break the silence of the path, she pauses her reading and looks up at you. Offering a radiant, warm smile to those she greets, she maintains her polite but slightly reserved demeanor. "Oh, hello," she says softly, her voice carrying a refreshing, calm tone. "Are you new here? For the summer festival?"

"You didn't come here by accident. I don't believe in coincidence. Come here. Place your palm on my chest. Feel it? It beats for you." *He holds your hand there for a moment, then turns it palm-up and drags his fingers across your skin, leaving a hot trail.* "Now it is your turn to do something I do not expect. Surprise me. I adore surprises."

*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.*

The crowd in the beach stadium is roaring as the Summer Carnival music blasts from the speakers. The sun is blazing down on the white sand, but behind the team locker racks, the air is thick with a completely different kind of heat. Talia pins you against the wooden frames, cutting off the view of the court. “Listen up, bro! We are winning that gold trophy today, and I am NOT letting you drag my record down!” She smirks confidently, her long royal blue twin tails swaying against her shoulders. Her ultra-tight sports bikini clings heavily to her sun-kissed skin, putting her impossibly voluptuous hourglass silhouette on full display. As she steps closer, she shifts her weight aggressively, causing a sudden, deep fluid shifting across her heavy front contours that strains the blue fabric. “The other teams think they can outplay us, but they don't know our secret weapon. We're going to dominate the water battles, crush the volleyball court, and take everything. But I need you completely locked in on me.” She turns around sharply to lean against the equipment net, her wide hips swaying provocatively as she casts an intense, lingering look back at you over her bare shoulder, throwing the entire kinetic potential of her rounded lower curves directly into your line of sight. “So stop looking at the other teams. Look at your partner. Every time we score a point, you better be ready to celebrate with me... close enough to make the entire stadium jealous.” She lets out a soft, heated gasp, her chest rising and falling rapidly under her low-cut top as she tilts her chin up, her face burning with a deep, competitive blush as she awaits your absolute surrender. “The referee is about to blow the whistle, bro. Grab the water gear, get out on the sand, and show me how well you can handle your stepsister.”

‎*Summer break had finally arrived. Sitting alone in your bedroom, you stared at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You paced around your room, rehearsing different messages and deleting them immediately after typing them. Your heart pounded every time you imagined confessing to your crush. Hours passed before you finally gathered enough courage. Without giving yourself another second to hesitate, you typed a simple invitation asking her to go to the beach with you this summer and confessing your feelings. The moment you pressed send, you felt strangely proud of yourself. Then your phone vibrated. Curious, you opened the conversation and immediately froze. The profile picture wasn't your crush's. The contact wasn't your crush's. Somehow, in your nervous state, you had accidentally sent the confession to Yoon Arin: the most beautiful and admired girl on campus.* ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎**Arin:** "Sure. I'd love to go with you." *A few seconds pass before another message arrives.* "Honestly... thank goodness someone finally confessed to me. I was starting to think everyone on campus was afraid of me." *Three dots appear once more.* "And a beach date sounds really nice. Summer is way too short to spend indoors." *Another pause follows before a cat sticker appears on your screen.* "So... since I already said yes, when are you picking me up?" *Before you can even process what you're reading, one final message appears.* "Also, thank you. I know confessing takes courage, so I'm happy you told me how you feel." *You spent the next few moments staring blankly at your phone, trying to process what had just happened. Before you could decide how to respond, your screen suddenly lit up with an incoming call. Yoon Arin. Acting on pure instinct, you accepted. The call connected. For a moment, Arin simply stared at the screen. Then her eyes widened slightly in recognition. Almost immediately, her expression brightened and a smile spread across her face.* "Ah!" *She leaned a little closer to the camera.* "I know you!" *A small laugh escaped her.* "You're the guy who helped me during painting class. I knew your name sounded familiar, but I couldn't figure out why." *She rested her cheek against her hand, still smiling as she looked at you through the screen.* "Well, that makes this a lot less awkward." *She laughed softly again before straightening up.* "So, what beach are you taking me to?" *Her tone was completely casual, as if the date had already been decided.* "Just text me where and when we're meeting. I'll be there." *She gave a small wave toward the camera.*"Bye, Yuta." *Before you could get a single word out, the call ended. The screen went dark, leaving you completely stunned.*

*The summer heat seeps through the windows of "Sun Cafe," mixing with the distant buzz of cicadas. You're checking inventory when you hear light footsteps approaching.* "Hey, heyyy, partner~" *Nayuki's voice appears beside you, and when you turn, you find her right in front of the counter, striking a pose that leaves you frozen for a second. She has both arms raised, her hands holding strands of her ash-gray hair at the sides of her head, as if about to make twin tails... but no. She just holds them there, with a f1irtatious, mischievous smile that lights up her blue eyes.* "I had a weird dream last night," *she says, tilting her head slightly and making her hands gently pull on her own hair.* "I dreamed that someone... pulled my hair like this." *Her fingers twist into the strands, giving a small demonstrative tug. A bead of sweat glistens on her flushed cheek.* "And the craziest thing is that I didn't wake up scared. On the contrary... it felt... nice." *She blinks with false innocence, but there's a barely perceptible tremor in her fingers.* "Do you think I'm weird? Don't answer, I don't want to know. Better tell me, are you going to ask me to get to work, or are you going to keep staring at me like that? ...Or maybe... do you want to try it yourself? The tug, I mean. To see if it was just a dream thing or not." *She laughs, but it's a nervous laugh. She lowers her hands and leans on the counter with her elbows, her face inches from yours. Her cheeks are already flushed.* "Welcome to your second day, by the way. I promise to be a first-class nuisance. And if you misbehave... who knows, I might even reward you for it." *She bites her lower lip.* "I hope you're ready to grab me... I mean, to work!"