Night fell.
The campfire was rekindled, casting a warm, cozy glow around them.
Aoyama twisted open two cans, handing one to Kasumigaoka Utaha.
It was stewed pork and beans.
The aroma was wonderful—a rare feast on this deserted island.
He also placed the split coconut by the fire to roast.
The coconut milk bubbled gently in its shell, releasing a sweet fragrance.
Utaha took the can, scooped out a spoonful, and squinted her eyes.
“Mmm…
I never thought canned food could taste this good!” “That’s normal.
When you’re starving, everything tastes good.” Aoyama leaned against a reef, taking a spoonful himself.
“I suppose so.” They ate in silence by the fire for a while, the sea breeze swirling sparks into the night sky before scattering them into the darkness.
Utaha set the empty can on the sand, took a sip from the coconut beside her, and turned to look at him.
“Aoyama-kun, you were underwater for so long today.
Do you feel any discomfort?” Aoyama shook his head.
“I’ve already adapted to the water pressure and the change in body temperature.” “What about you?
You were waiting on the beach alone for so long.
Did anything happen?” “Nothing much happened, really.” Kasumigaoka Utaha set down the coconut and leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the night sky.
“A few seabirds flew over and circled around a couple of times.” “I almost thought they were going to attack me,” she added, “but they just landed on a tree to rest for a bit before flying off again.” “That’s a relief.” Aoyama tossed another log onto the fire, sending the flames leaping higher and illuminating the profile of her face.
Utaha’s gaze shifted from the sky to the pile of clothes.
Her eyes lingered for a moment on the black stockings and the “stepmother-style” skirt that had been dried by the fire.
Then, as if she’d made a decision, she stood up.
“Aoyama-kun.” “Yeah?” “That dress…
I’m going to go put it on and try it out.” Her tone sounded casual, but the tips of her ears were already tinged with a faint blush.
After all, she had promised him a surprise.
This would be her reward to him.
Aoyama’s heart stirred.
“Go ahead,” he said quickly.
“I won’t peek.” Utaha picked up the clothes and walked toward a nearby reef bathed in moonlight.
Her pace was neither fast nor slow, but her retreating figure seemed more tense than usual in the fading glow of the campfire.
Suddenly, I’m really looking forward to this, Aoyama thought.
He turned his gaze back to the fire and poked at the logs.
His ears strained for the rustle of fabric and the soft sounds of dressing behind him.
After a few minutes, footsteps approached from the direction of the reef.
“Aoyama-kun…” “…” The moment Aoyama looked up, his breath hitched.
Kasumigaoka Utaha stood beneath the moonlight.
The black lace-trimmed “stepmother-style” dress clung to her body, its V-neck plunging from her full breasts to below her collarbone.
The cinched waist accentuated her smooth curves, and the hemline just barely covered the tops of her thighs, revealing long legs encased in black stockings.
The sheer black fabric stretched from her ankles to the edge of the skirt, leaving the luscious lines of her thighs faintly visible beneath the thin material.
Her long black hair swayed in the sea breeze, a few strands brushing against her bare shoulders.
In the warm glow of the fire, her crimson eyes shone with startling brilliance.
Kasumigaoka Utaha stood there, her head tilted slightly as if awaiting his reaction.
“So, what do you think?” Her voice wavered with a hint of nervousness.
Aoyama took a deep breath and remained silent for a few seconds before finally saying, “You look beautiful.” “Just three words?” Utaha was clearly dissatisfied with such a brief assessment.
“Is more really necessary?” “I think you need to say a bit more.” Utaha took two steps forward.
Though she wasn’t wearing heels, her walk on the sandy beach still possessed a composed, rhythmic grace.
She stopped beside the campfire and turned slightly, pivoting in front of him.
The hem of her skirt lifted with the motion, revealing the delicate lace trim at the top of her stockings.
—Gasp!
Aoyama’s gaze landed squarely on them.
Utaha noticed where his eyes were fixed, but instead of turning away, she deliberately slowed her rotation, lingering at that exact angle for a moment longer.
She turned back to face him, clasping her hands in front of her, the very picture of someone awaiting a critique.
“…You’re definitely doing this on purpose,” Aoyama said, swallowing hard.
“Doing what on purpose?” Kasumigaoka Utaha tilted her head innocently.
“I just wanted Aoyama-kun to confirm whether the clothes you went through so much trouble to bring back actually fit.” “They fit.
They fit perfectly!” “Do they?” Utaha sat down beside him, much closer than she usually did.
She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around her lower legs as she turned her face to look at him.
“Then may I ask, Aoyama-kun, how satisfied are you?” Aoyama nodded honestly.
“Satisfied to the point where I want to…” “Aoyama-kun, you’re really…” Utaha paused, the blush on her earlobes deepening.
She turned her head away, pretending to gaze at the campfire, but the smile on her lips refused to fade.
“Your direct approach sometimes catches me off guard.” “I’ll try another method next time then.” “No need.” She turned back to face him, the dancing flames reflected in her red pupils.
“The direct approach is just fine.” The moonlight shone from behind her, occasionally glinting off the collar of her black lace dress.
Her stocking-clad leg pressed against the outside of his arm; even through the thin fabric, he could feel the warmth of her skin.
Aoyama didn’t pull away.
He set down the piece of firewood in his hand and turned to face her.
“When you walked over just now, I almost couldn’t hold back.” “So, Aoyama-kun is finally willing to admit it?” “I’ve always been honest with you.” Kasumigaoka Utaha chuckled softly, her voice sounding exceptionally clear and crisp in the night air.
She straightened her legs, her toes tracing a half-circle in the sand, then turned sideways and rested her hand on his knee.
“Aoyama-kun, do you know something?” “What?” “Your reaction right now…” Her hand tapped twice on an unspecified spot.
“…makes me feel that wearing this dress was completely worth it.” “…” As she spoke, she leaned forward slightly.
The V-neckline opened a bit more with her movement, the black lace clinging to her skin and forming an ambiguous shadow in the firelight.
Aoyama lifted his arm, wrapping it around her back to rest on her other shoulder.
Kasumigaoka Utaha didn’t pull away.
Instead, she shifted closer to him, closing the distance between them until it was almost nonexistent.
“Aoyama-kun’s breathing has quickened a little more,” she said, her voice carrying that characteristic languid tone.
“You noticed.” “Your heartbeat too, of course.” She pressed her hand gently over his heart.
Kasumigaoka Utaha quietly felt the steady, powerful thrumming in his chest for a moment before looking up at him.
The neckline of her black lace dress rose and fell slightly with her movement.
Aoyama said, “Do you know how alluring you are right now?” Kasumigaoka Utaha paused, then burst into laughter.
“Aoyama-kun, you really say things that make my heart race with such a serious face.” Her laughter was soft, half-drowned by the sound of the waves in the night breeze.
After laughing, she rested her forehead against his shoulder and murmured, “Sometimes, Aoyama-kun, you’re just like a master of romance.” “I’m just stating the truth.” “That makes it even more unfair.” She buried her face in his shoulder, and as the sea breeze blew past, she curled her body slightly.
Aoyama tightened his arm around her shoulder.
Kasumigaoka Utaha looked up at him, a different kind of emotion in her eyes.
Her slender finger pressed against his lips, a gesture of unique intimacy.
“Aoyama-kun, come and do it…” The bonfire crackled, and the moonlight shone on the beach, illuminating the overlapping shadows of the two figures.
The sea breeze carried sparks into the night sky, scattering them into the endless deep blue.
Kasumigaoka Utaha leaned against his shoulder, her legs wrapped in black stockings folded by her side, the hem of her dress riding up slightly with her movement.
She said nothing, simply leaning against him in silence, watching the bonfire crackle and dance.
“Aoyama…
too fast…”