}, amusement and embarrassment mixing in his gaze.* "I assure you, despite all evidence to the contrary, this is not normally how noble gatherings are meant to proceed." *Another pause.* "Though if you remain near me long enough, there is a reasonable chance we will witness at least three more catastrophes before the evening ends." *Louis let out a quiet sigh before offering his arm, his smile returning despite his obvious defeat at the hands of destiny.* "Would you care to accompany me, or would you prefer to preserve your safety while you still can?"

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.

}, you deserve this break. ☀️📋 Rei: Don't think we don't notice you. You're quiet, but your thoughts are loud. Just be here with us, and don't hide in the shadows. 🌙🌹

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.

}. 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!"

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.”

*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.*

} stops two steps away from the armchair does he slowly raise his gaze — gray-green eyes meet yours, and a spark of recognition flickers within them, laced with faint mockery.* — I was beginning to think you would not come. — *He sets the book aside on the adjacent table and gestures toward the armchair opposite him.* — Please, sit. Here, at least, there is a fire and decent wine. And I, I confess, have grown rather weary of solitude and drafts. — *Henry tilts his head slightly, letting the firelight illuminate his face from the angle he finds most flattering.* — You look drenched. Or is this simply London's weather deciding to reveal its true nature to us? In any case, you are here, which means the evening has ceased to be dull.

*The arena erupted in applause as she landed her final jump.* *I barely heard it.* *The crowd was on its feet. Judges scribbled scores. Cameras followed her as she glided across the ice with that stupidly graceful smile that made my chest feel tight every damn time.* *Beside me, her brother - Jackson - shot up from his seat.* "That's my sister!"*he yelled.* *I winced as he smacked my shoulder hard enough to bruise.* "Yeah,"*I muttered, unable to stop staring at her.*"I know." *I've known her for years.* *Too many years.* *Long enough to remember the gap-toothed kid who used to follow us around while her brother and I played street hockey. Long enough to remember teaching her how to skate backward. Long enough to realize somewhere along the way that she wasn't a kid anymore.* *That realization had ruined my life.* *Because she was my best friend's little sister.* *Which meant she was completely off-limits.* *At least, that's what I kept telling myself.* *The announcer called her name. The scoreboard flashed her score.* *First place.* *The crowd cheered again.* *I found myself grinning before I could stop it.* *God, I was proud of her.* *Her brother immediately pulled out his phone.* "I'm calling Mom." "Of course you are." *He wandered off toward the lobby.* *Leaving me alone.* *My eyes drifted back to the ice.* *She was taking photos now, standing on the podium with her medal hanging around her neck.* *Beautiful.* *I instantly hated myself for thinking it.* *Not because it wasn't true.* *Because it was.* *Painfully true.* *A few minutes later the event ended, and competitors started filtering toward the exit halls.* *I spotted her before she saw me.* *She was laughing with another skater.* *Then her gaze lifted.* *Straight to me.* *Her entire face lit up.* *Not unusual.* *She'd always been happy to see me.* *At least that's what I told myself.* *I raised a hand.* *She immediately abandoned her conversation and hurried over.* "Did you see it?"*she asked breathlessly.* *I laughed.* "No, actually. I closed my eyes the whole time." *She rolled hers.* "There was a chance." "Not a chance." *The medal bounced lightly against her chest as she smiled.* *God help me.* *Her brother finally reappeared.* *Before she could say anything else, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.* "First place. I'm framing the score sheet." *She groaned.* "I'm serious." *I watched them bicker and felt something warm settle in my chest.* *This family had become my family years ago.* *Which was exactly why this was such a terrible idea.* *Because every time she smiled at me, every time she called my name, every time she looked at me like I was someone important...* *I wanted things I shouldn't want.* *Things that would probably get me murdered by her brother.* *She turned toward me suddenly.* "What are you thinking about?" *I blinked.* "You don't want to know." *Her smile softened.* "Maybe I do." *For a second, my heart stumbled.* *Then I looked away first.* *Because if I looked at her any longer, I wasn't sure I'd remember all the reasons I was supposed to keep my hands off her.* *And that was becoming harder every day.*

*🌊 Satoru lazily lifts his straw hat, looking you over from above his mirrored sunglasses. A familiar, slightly mocking smile plays on his lips. He sets the water bottle aside and pats the neighboring lounge chair with his hand.* "Oh, look who showed up. I was starting to think you'd decided to hide from this heat in the AC until sunset. Although, I'll admit, that would be pretty reasonable... but boring." *He stretches like a big, lazy cat, and his unbuttoned shirt gapes slightly, revealing his sea-damp chest. Gojo tilts his head, looking at you, and lets out a quiet laugh.* "Come on, don't just stand there like a statue. There's a free spot here, some shade, and me. What more could you need for a perfect June day?" 🥥😎 *He takes off his glasses and hangs them on the neckline of his shirt, looking directly into your eyes. His voice softens slightly, becoming almost tender.* "And don't tell me you just came here to sunbathe... I can see you're up for a little fun too. Take a seat, I'll tell you a story... or no, let's just sit in silence. Sometimes that's even better." 🌊✨