The early morning sun filtered through the gaps, casting its light upon the sandy beach.
The sea breeze was much gentler than it had been during the night, carrying a faint scent of brine as it brushed over the two intertwined bodies.
Aoyama was awakened by a tickling sensation.
“…” He opened his eyes to find Kasumigaoka Utaha lying on her side beside him, a stray strand of her hair lightly brushing the tip of his nose.
The sunlight caught her crimson eyes, making them glow like molten amber.
“Awake?” Aoyama tried to move his arm, only to find it almost completely numb from her weight pressing against it.
He glanced at their disheveled clothes.
His shirt was draped over her, while she wore only a white collared shirt and that pleated skirt, three of its buttons left undone.
“What time is it?” Aoyama asked instinctively.
“…I don’t know either.” Kasumigaoka Utaha pulled his shirt closer around her and sat up, stretching lazily.
The warm sunlight from behind her traced the contours of her body.
“But the sun has already risen above the top of that coconut tree,” she said, turning her head to look at him, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Aoyama-kun, your breathing seems very uneven.
Your heart is also beating much faster than it was just now.” “Caught me again?” Kasumigaoka Utaha tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“And Aoyama-kun, the look in your eyes right now…
is exactly the same as it was last night when you looked like you wanted to devour me.” Aoyama didn’t deny it.
His gaze swept over her.
The hem of the shirt barely covered the tops of her thighs.
Her long, slender legs were bent at her side, the skin on her ankles nearly translucent in the sunlight.
Her seated posture caused the pleated skirt to ride up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her shapely thigh.
“…” Aoyama’s throat tightened.
Kasumigaoka Utaha noticed his gaze.
Instead of turning away, she leaned back slightly, letting the shirt’s collar slip a few inches lower.
“Aoyama-kun~” “You wouldn’t happen to be thinking…” Her voice held that familiar, teasing lilt.
“I am.” His answer was blunt and decisive.
Kasumigaoka Utaha froze for a moment, her ears flushing a soft pink.
She turned her head away, pretending to look at the distant sea, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“So straightforward this early in the morning.
I thought you’d at least pretend to hesitate for three seconds.” “Hesitating with you is pointless.” “…Is this Aoyama-kun’s way of confessing?” Kasumigaoka Utaha breathed softly against his ear.
“Well, I don’t hate it.
So I accept Aoyama-kun’s…
confession.” Aoyama reached out and pulled her into his arms.
Utaha, pulled along by Aoyama, lay down on the makeshift bed of palm leaves, her head resting on his folded school jacket.
The glaring sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, dappling her face.
She squinted, her lips slightly parted.
“Aoyama-kun, you…
gently…” Her voice softened, losing its usual sharp edge.
Aoyama leaned down and kissed her, sealing her words.
Utaha’s body tensed slightly in his arms before slowly relaxing.
Her hand instinctively traced his back, her fingertips leaving invisible trails across his shirt.
The light grew brighter, and the beach’s temperature steadily rose.
Utaha lay on the leaves, her pleated skirt bunched at her waist, her legs closed with her feet pointing upward.
The familiar white face towel hung from the base of her thigh, swaying gently with the incoming waves.
“…” One of Utaha’s hands gripped the leaves beneath her, while the other covered her mouth, as if trying to suppress a sound.
Aoyama leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Don’t hold back.” A muffled moan escaped from between Utaha’s fingers, and she slowly lowered her hand.
Her cheeks flushed red as she looked up at him.
“Aoyama-kun, you’ve suddenly become so talkative at a time like this…” Aoyama said, “You taught me.” “You’re the one who said it’s a shame we can’t talk underwater…” “So…
you’re making up for it in such a profound way?” At this moment, Utaha’s voice was also broken and intermittent.
“Yes, this is my way of taking revenge.” Utaha was both embarrassed and angry by his words, raising her hand to punch his chest.
Unfortunately, the force was soft and weak, not even enough to tickle.
“…You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” “On purpose?
What?” “On purpose, saying things like that…
to distract me…” Aoyama didn’t answer, just bent down and lowered his head to taste the sour grapes.
Utaha trembled violently, her face instantly flushing completely red, her hands gripping his hair tightly.
“Ugh, Aoyama-kun…” Her voice grew smaller and smaller, until finally, it was almost inaudible.
By the time Aoyama finished his morning training, it was already noon.
After the night and morning’s exertions, Kasumigaoka Utaha had fallen into a deep sleep after a quick meal.
“So weak, yet so eager to play,” Aoyama thought.
Utaha was still too sensitive.
Besides, after his body had been strengthened multiple times, Utaha alone couldn’t satisfy him.
Still, he didn’t rush off to the shipwreck.
Instead, he waited quietly for her to wake up.
In the afternoon, by the time Utaha opened her eyes, the sun was already leaning west.
The sea breeze rustled the palm leaves, and warm light danced on her eyelids.
The first thing she saw was Aoyama’s back as he sat beside her.
He was focused and calm, inspecting the bowstring of his compound bow.
Utaha murmured groggily, “Hmm…
what time is it?” Aoyama turned to look at her, his expression oddly familiar.
“I don’t know, but I’d guess it’s sometime in the afternoon.” “…” Kasumigaoka Utaha glared at him with her moist eyes.
She propped herself up to sit, the shirt wrapped around her slipping down to reveal her fair shoulders and the strawberry-red hickeys on her collarbones.
She glanced down at her disheveled front, her ears heating up slightly, but quickly composed herself.
Tying her shirt properly, she looked up at Aoyama.
“Aoyama-kun, have you scouted the shipwreck?” “No.” “Given your previous state, I was too worried to leave you alone on the beach.” Utaha smoothed her loose black hair back, stood up, and stretched her somewhat weak legs.
She walked to Aoyama’s side, looking down at the long sword at his waist, the compound bow on his back, and the machete lying at his feet.
Aoyama handed her the long sword and instructed, “You take this for self-defense.” “After I go into the water, you stay on the shore and don’t wander off.” “If anything approaches the beach, use the machete or the flare gun.” Kasumigaoka Utaha picked up the machete and gripped its handle, its heavy weight offering a sense of reassurance.
She looked up, her red pupils shimmering with remarkable clarity in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting Aoyama’s figure.
“Aoyama-kun, be careful,” she said.
Aoyama nodded.
Just as he turned to head toward the water, he felt his wrist being pulled.
He looked down to see Utaha’s fingertips gripping the inside of his wrist.
The hold wasn’t strong, but it carried a definite intent to make him stay.
“Something else?” Utaha didn’t answer.
She took a half-step forward, rose on her tiptoes, and pressed a very light kiss to his lips.
The touch was brief, as fleeting as a stray gust of sea breeze.
As she pulled back, the tips of her ears were tinged with a faint blush, yet her expression remained composed.
Aoyama gazed at her for a couple of seconds.
“Wait for me to come back.”