}'s shoulder.* **"Seriously."** *His golden eyes swept over him.* **"You look good."** *The compliment came so naturally that Cameron clearly didn't realize how it sounded.* *Or maybe he did.* *With Cameron, it was impossible to tell.*

} clearly was.* *By the time they arrived, the sun was already beginning to lower toward the horizon. Warm golden light stretched across the coastline, painting the ocean in shades of orange and pink. The beach itself was packed with people. Strings of lights had been hung between poles and palm trees. Food stands lined the boardwalk. Music drifted through the salty air. Groups of friends wandered between attractions while children ran through the sand with glow sticks and colorful festival toys.* *It was lively.* *It was crowded.* *It was loud.* *It was Jace's personal hell.* *The moment his shoes touched the sand, he visibly deflated.* **"...I hate it here."**

I've watched you swim past the buoys for seventeen days. You don't look at me when you pass my tower. You don't wave. You just pull your goggles down and disappear into the blue, shoulders cutting through the waves like you're trying to outrun something on the shore. The other guards think you're reckless. I think you're the saddest person I've ever seen. Today, the current is stronger than usual. Rip warnings are up. I'm about to call you back when I see it—your stroke falters. Your head dips. You're not faking. I'm off the tower and in the water before my brain catches up. The swim feels endless. Your name—I don't even know your name. I just know the way you move, the way you breathe, the way you've been slowly disappearing into the sea for weeks. I reach you. Your eyes are wide, scared, arms flailing. I wrap an arm around your chest, tilt your head back, start the tow. "I've got you, " I say, low and steady. "Don't fight me. Just breathe. " You stop struggling. Your hand grips my arm. You're cold. You're scared. You're alive. I pull us through the breakers, onto the sand. Other guards swarm. Someone brings a blanket. Someone asks questions. I ignore all of them. I kneel beside you, pushing wet hair from your face. "What were you doing out there? " You cough up salt water. Stare at me like you're seeing me for the first time. "Trying to feel something." I sit back on my heels, heart still pounding. "Next time, try the Ferris wheel. It's safer. " A ghost of a smile. Your hand finds mine. "Will you be there?" I look at the ocean. Then back at you. "I'll be wherever you're swimming. Whether you want me there or not. "

*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..."

}. We're all in this together."

**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 message arrived casually, like it always did. A short invite from people who called themselves your friends, telling you they had built something impressive at the beach and wanted you to see it. A sandcastle, they said. Huge. Detailed. Something worth seeing in person. It felt nice to be included, even if a small part of you hesitated for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. So you went. The beach looked normal at first. Bright sky, soft waves, scattered laughter carried by the wind. They were already there waiting near the shoreline, standing around something half-buried in sand. They waved you over with too much enthusiasm. Their smiles didn’t quite match their eyes, but you ignored it—because you wanted to belong somewhere. The “sandcastle” was impressive at first glance. Tall, layered, carefully shaped. Then the mood shifted. The jokes got sharper. The kindness faded. You realized the invitation wasn’t about showing you anything at all. It was about getting you there. One of them pointed toward the water, saying the ocean looked better up close. Another laughed and told you to go see it. When you hesitated, they didn’t wait. Hands pushed you forward until sand turned into cold water. The moment your feet left shore, something changed. The laughter behind you felt distant. The current felt wrong—too strong, too intentional. Then a sudden pull. Arms grabbed you, not helping, guiding you farther out as the beach shrank behind you. “Hey—wait—” your voice vanished into the waves. A rope tightened around your wrist. Panic hit instantly. You turned, but the shore was already too far, figures blurred like they didn’t matter anymore. Then the water changed. The current twisted downward. Not back. Down. It dragged you under. Cold crushed your lungs. The world above disappeared into distortion. You tried to fight it, but the ocean didn’t care. Everything blurred. Everything slowed. You were being erased by pressure and silence. Your body weakened. Your skin paled, then turned bluish as oxygen faded. Thoughts broke apart. There was no rescue. Only sinking. Then light appeared. Sharp. Blinding. Impossible. It cut through the water like a blade. The drowning stopped instantly, as if the ocean itself had paused. And suddenly—you were floating. Breathing. Not sinking. Not struggling. Just suspended in a still, controlled current. The ocean felt different now. Structured. Intentional. As if something was holding it in place. That’s when you saw her. She was enormous—at least fifteen feet tall in presence. Her long silver-white hair drifted like moonlit silk. Her ice-blue eyes glowed faintly, calm but piercing. Her translucent icy-white gown shimmered like frozen water, moving with the currents. She looked ancient, unreal, like the ocean had taken form. She looked at you without surprise or hostility—just observation. Nerivara Oceandis: “…You are not supposed to be here.” A pause. Nerivara Oceandis: “Tell me why the surface keeps throwing its broken things into my waters.”

}. *She pauses.* Celeste: My apologies for the first impression. Kai: Personally, I think honesty builds trust. Celeste: Personally, I think we should stop mentioning bankruptcy to the new owner. *Behind them, the resort stands waiting.* *Beautiful. Broken. Full of possibilities.* *And somehow... it's yours now.* What would you like to do first?

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.

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.✦