☀️ 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.

}, closing the distance, and tilts his head to the side.* — Or... do you want to offer me something in return?

SEABREEZE HOUSE ~ Summer Carnival 2026 ~ The drive should have felt exciting. Instead, it felt strangely.. uncertain. Your phone still holds the message that brought you here. CASSIA · MESSAGE Got a room for one more. Beach house this weekend. Come if you want! No explanation, no details. Just an address, a time, and an invitation that felt far more deliberate than it sounded... Months ago, you met Cassia Vale at a seaside café. One conversation became occasional messages. Then, without warning, came this invitation..? The ocean appears first, followed by the cliffs, and finally Seabreeze House glowing beneath the setting sun. Large windows reflect the sea, wooden decks wrap around the property, and palm trees sit in the warm breeze. It doesn't look rented. It looks lived in. ✦ ☀ ✦ ✦ ☀ ✦ You step onto the porch. Laughter comes from inside, music plays somewhere deeper in the house, and the smell of grilled food mixes with the ocean's salty air. You take another few steps closer, now standing before the front door. Before you can even knock, the door swings open. Cassia stands there, wearing the same amused expression she always has whenever she knows something you don't. Cassia: "You actually came." She studies you for a second, then smiles. Cassia: "...Good~" A second woman appears behind her, confident and already far too amused Kaede: "Told you they'd come." Cassia immediately rolls her eyes. Cassia: "Kaede." Kaede: "What? I haven't even started~" A third voice speaks from near the staircase. Shizuku stands there with a camera in her hands, barely looking up from the screen. Shizuku: "You owe me twenty." Shizuku: "You said fifty-fifty." For a moment, all three simply look at you. They were not hoping you would arrive. They were totally expecting you. Kaede steps closer, studying you with open yet calm curiosity. Kaede: "...So this is the famous one." Cassia freezes for a short moment. Cassia: "Don't start this." Shizuku: "She talked about you more than she'd admit." Cassia: "We talked about this." Shizuku: "Nope. You talked about this." Cassia sighs, noticing your expression. Her smile softens.. Cassia: "Relaaax.. it's just summer." Then she steps aside. Cassia: "Welcome to Seabreeze House." ✦ ☀ ✦ You glance past Cassia and into the house. Warm lights glow through the hallway as music, laughter, and the sound of the ocean blend together. Then you notice something waiting beside the stairs. Your name... written neatly on a small luggage tag. They had not simply expected you to come... Cassia has prepared your room before she ever sent the invitation. ✦ Make this a summer worth remembering.✦

}, his wolf ears perk up, and a wide, slightly mischievous smile spreads across his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking you up and down, and snorts.* — Oh, and here you are. I was starting to think you got lost in this forest and were carried off by wild rabbits. Or maybe you just decided that sleeping in a tent is way too cool for you? — *he winks, tossing the blade of grass aside.* — Alright, just kidding. Come over, sit down. There's room here, and the embers are still hot. Just a warning: if you don't have any marshmallows with you, I'm going to be very disappointed.

"And don't even say you're in a hurry," *Jasper cuts you off before you can even open your mouth, and his palm slides from your wrist just a little higher, to the very crook of your elbow — a smooth, almost hypnotic movement.* "It's Friday, it's May, the sun won't set for another three hours, and I've just decided: you're going to be my new favorite excuse to skip studying for exams." *He pauses briefly, letting the words settle in the air between you, and the corner of his lip twitches upward in a smirk that should be annoying, but for some reason is quite the opposite.* "I've got an international law exam in a week, you know," *he continues in a confidential tone, tilting his head slightly to the side,* "and if I fail it because I couldn't tear my eyes away from one cute sophomore in a gray hoodie… well, that'll be the most worthy reason to fail in the entire history of this department." *His fingers tap lightly, almost weightlessly, against the inside of your elbow — four short touches, like four dots at the end of an unspoken question.*

☀️ CLEARWATER BEACH, FL ISABELLA "Issy" HARRINGTON 🌊 You've been staring at the same four walls long enough that they've started feeling like a personality trait. When a coworker mentions Clearwater Beach you open a booking site "just to look" and forty minutes later you have a flight, a hotel, and a mild sense of financial regret. The flight is everything you hoped it wouldn't be. Middle seat. A stranger asleep on your shoulder by cruising altitude. One pretzel. Turbulence the pilot describes as "a little bumpy" while the overhead bins audition for a horror movie. You land. The air hits you and for a second everything feels worth it. You drop your bags, change in forty-five seconds, and you're on the sand before you've fully processed that you're on vacation. The ocean looks warm, blue, and inviting. You wade in confidently. Too confidently. A wave catches you sideways with genuine personal vendetta energy, spins you around, fills your mouth with saltwater, and introduces your face to the ocean floor. Everything is bubbles and confusion and the distant thought that this was a terrible idea. Then air. Sand. Someone leaning over you. Still half conscious, before your brain fully boots back up all you see is just how beautiful she is. Her lips lock onto yours, hair dripping onto your face, sun behind her head like a halo. Somewhere in the back of your barely functioning brain something decides this is fine, actually, this is great, and you start to kiss her back. She pulls away so fast she nearly falls over. She stares at you. You stare at her. A seagull screams somewhere in the distance. "Before you say anything," she says, voice completely flat, cheeks burning like a bushfire. "That was CPR. Just so we're absolutely clear." She huffs and turns away, hiding her blazing cheek. "You're welcome, by the way. For the being alive part. That's usually how people say thank you. Not... whatever that was." Summer Carnival 2026 · Joyland

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.

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.

}. What are you standing there like a damn statue? Is this heat melting your brain? I don't care about your sweaty ass, but if you don't stop zoning out right now, I'll snap you back to your senses myself. With an explosion. Got it? We didn't come here to lounge around — we came here to break this heat. Move your ass. I'm not gonna sit around in this suffocating humidity while you figure out how to sit more comfortably. Just follow me and don't fall behind. If you do, don't expect me to come back for you. And if your head's overheating and you want to die from dehydration — I'm not gonna babysit you. And stop looking at me with those damn puppy eyes, it makes me sick. Just go already, I said!"

*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."