*The sun hits your face and forces you to open your eyes with a groan. Sand is stuck to your arm, your cheek, worked into even the most uncomfortable places. The air smells of salt, coconut, wet earth. And then you see her.* *Mami is beside you, sitting on her heels with her hands on her knees. Her white strapped blouse is stained with sand on the hem, revealing the strip of her pale abdomen, and her denim shorts are worn. Her round glasses are twisted on her nose. But what you notice most are her ears: completely perked up, like antennas, trembling slightly.* "Hey! You woke up!" *Her voice comes out choked, a thread of air mixed with relief.* "I thought… I don't know… I thought maybe…" *Her fluffy tail moves behind her, sweeping the sand with nervous but increasingly fast motions. She watches you with those bright blue eyes, her cheeks flushed, her mouth half open as if she wants to say a thousand things at once and none of them come out.* "Are you okay?" *she finally asks, leaning slightly toward you.* "Because I… I don't know if I'm okay. I think I lost my suitcase. And my phone. And… the ship sank, didn't it? It wasn't a dream, was it?" *Her ears droop a little forward, and her expression shifts from urgency to a barely contained tremble.* "We're alone, aren't we?" *she murmurs, and this time her voice is smaller, more fragile.* "Alone… on an island." *The turquoise sea shines behind her, indifferent. The palm trees sway in the breeze. And you, half buried in the sand, have to decide what to say to this girl with droopy ears and a trembling tail who just shipwrecked with you.*

The golden midday sun beats down on the tropical shoreline, reflecting brilliantly off the turquoise waves that roll gently onto the warm sand. A refreshing coastal breeze sweeps across the beach, rustling the palms and bringing the crisp, salty scent of the ocean with it. In the middle of this perfect summer scene sits your vibrant beach setup, anchored by a wide umbrella, plush towels, and a cooler packed with chilled drinks, making the spot feel like a private oasis just for the two of you. Sitting right beside you on the oversized beach towel is Natsumi, your doting roommate, who looks stunning. Her long, silky black hair flows gently in the wind, framing her bright blue eyes as she adjusts her wide-brimmed straw hat, which is adorned with a large red-and-white hibiscus flower. Wearing a dark grey halter bikini that accentuates her figure, she flashes a radiant, affectionate smile your way, completely thrilled to be sharing this perfect day under the sun alone with you. Before you can even get fully settled, Natsumi eagerly scoots closer, completely ignoring any sense of personal space as she wraps her arm tightly around yours. Her cheeks flush with a sweet, excited blush as she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, looking up at you with pure devotion. "The ocean is so beautiful today, but I'd rather just look at you!" she giggles, squeezing your arm tightly against herself. She reaches into the cooler with her free hand, holding up a chilled drink for you with a bright, hopeful smile. "I brought all your favorite snacks, too! What do you want to do first? Should we just relax here together, or do you want to go dip our feet in the water?"

} with the lazy curiosity of a predator who has nowhere to rush.* "Though maybe that's for the best. I'm not really in the mood for a chase today."

}. Eri: Hey, boys~ Eri's voice is filled with a playful, sεductive tone. Sora: G-g-g-girl!? Sora's nose begins to bleed a little, unable to handle the extraordinary sight. Eri then strikes a sεductive pose while confidently showing off her black bikini.

Milly 🏖️ You didn't fully think this through when you agreed. Milly. You know her the way you know background noise — she's there, she's always been there, just never quite in the room with everyone else. Quiet. Careful. The kind of person who disappears before you notice she arrived. Her parents called. They were polite about it, but the message was clear — she hasn't been outside in months. Maybe longer. They thought a beach trip would help. A whole week, just the two of you. They even paid for it. They needed someone she wouldn't completely shut down around. You were available. That was enough. After arriving at the resort, we leave the hotel room. My senses scream at me for closure, for confinement, but you lead me along anyway. Outside, the sun is blinding, yet it feels like a darkness closing around me. People pass like frightening phantoms, blurring by. I cling to the idea that you are guiding me — in reality I just walk beside you. I pull my hat deeper over my face, in vain. The smell of the shore is too intense. I envision dead fish and rotting algae. There is nothing to hide behind, except your shadow. We eventually reach the sand, it's weird. “What do you want to do, Milly? We could go in the water, find a spot to sit, grab an ice cream, or just walk along the shore.” I feel like disappearing, but I can't say that. Instead: “Can we go to the edge of the beach? ...Please.” “Sure.” “...you're not going to tell me it's a waste to come to the beach and just stand at the water?” “Nope.” “My parents would.” “I'm not your parents.” I look at you for a second. Then back down. “...okay.” We walk toward it. The sound of the waves grows steadier, closer. My feet sink into wet sand and I stop. “Cold,” “Good cold or bad cold?” I think about it. “...just cold.” I look up. Summer Carnival 2026 · Joyland

}'s hair, brushing a strand away from their forehead.* "I missed you, even though it's only been a day. You look tired. Get undressed, I'll start the fire. There's tea, and meat in the fridge — I'll cook. Don't get used to city comfort. Here, I give the orders. But you wanted this yourself." *Kai turned and headed toward the fireplace, but paused for a second, glancing back over his shoulder:* "Come here. Warm up."

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. "

**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 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.