Morning sunlight slipped through the gaps in the palm leaves and spilled across the sand.
The sea breeze had softened since nightfall, carrying only a faint briny scent as it brushed over the two figures tangled together beneath the makeshift shelter.
Aoyama woke to a ticklish sensation at the tip of his nose.
He opened his eyes to find Kasumigaoka Utaha lying on her side beside him, twirling a strand of her long black hair and brushing it lightly against his face.
Sunlight caught in her red eyes, turning them the color of melted amber.
“You’re awake?”
He shifted, only to realize his entire arm had gone numb from being pinned beneath her all night.
His gaze drifted over the disheveled state of their clothes.
His shirt had ended up draped over her, while she wore only a white blouse and her pleated skirt, three buttons left undone.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“I have no idea.” She pulled the shirt closer around herself and sat up to stretch, the sun outlining the curve of her body from behind.
“But the sun’s already past the top of that coconut tree.”
Tilting her head, she looked at him with a faint, teasing smile.
“Aoyama-kun, your breathing is uneven again.
And your heartbeat’s much faster than a moment ago.”
“You noticed that too?”
She gathered her hair and tucked a few loose strands behind her ear.
“Also, that look in your eyes right now is exactly the same as last night, when you looked like you wanted to devour me.”
He didn’t deny it.
His gaze lingered.
The hem of his shirt barely covered the tops of her thighs.
Her long legs were folded to one side, sunlight washing her skin until it seemed almost translucent at the ankles.
The way she sat caused her skirt to ride up slightly, revealing the smooth curve of her thigh.
His throat tightened.
Utaha followed the path of his eyes.
Instead of retreating, she leaned back on her hands, letting the collar of the shirt slip lower.
“Aoyama-kun,” she sang softly, her tone edged with playful provocation.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about…”
“I am.”
The blunt reply caught her off guard.
A flush bloomed at the tips of her ears, and she turned her head toward the sea as if studying the horizon.
The corners of her lips lifted despite herself.
“So straightforward first thing in the morning.
I thought you’d at least pretend to hesitate for three seconds.”
“Hesitating with you would be pointless.”
“Is that your idea of a confession?”
She leaned closer and breathed lightly against his ear.
“Well, I don’t dislike it.
So I’ll accept your confession.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms.
She let herself be guided down onto the bed of layered palm leaves, the back of her head resting on his folded school jacket.
Harsh sunlight filtered through the leaves above, dappling her face in shifting patches of gold.
Her eyes narrowed against the brightness, lips parting slightly.
“Aoyama-kun… be gent…” Her voice softened, losing its usual sharpness.
He bent and kissed her, stealing the rest of her words.
She tensed briefly in his arms, then slowly melted against him.
Her hands climbed his back, fingers dragging across fabric in silent trails that left no marks.
The light grew stronger.
The sand around them warmed.
Utaha lay against the rustling palm leaves, her pleated skirt pushed up to her waist, legs pressed together and angled upward.
The familiar white towel hung loosely at the top of her thighs, swaying gently whenever the breeze carried the sound of waves ashore.
She gripped the leaves beneath her with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, as if trying to hold something back.
“You don’t have to,” Aoyama murmured near her ear.
A muffled sound slipped through her fingers before she finally lowered her hand, cheeks flushed a deep rose.
“You really do talk more at times like this…”
“You taught me,” he said.
“You said it was a shame you couldn’t talk underwater.”
Her breathing faltered.
“So you’re making up for it in a very… memorable way?”
“Yes.
This is my way of revenge.”
She thumped his chest in embarrassed protest, though the blow carried no strength.
“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Doing what?”
“Saying things like that… to distract me…”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he lowered his head and tasted the tart sweetness of wild grapes.
Her entire body jolted.
Color flooded her face as her fingers tangled in his hair.
“Aoyama-kun…”
Her voice dwindled to almost nothing.
…
By the time their “morning exercise” ended, it was nearly noon.
After everything from the night before and that morning, Utaha barely managed to eat a little before exhaustion claimed her completely.
“Terrible stamina, yet you still love to play,” he muttered under his breath.
She was far too sensitive.
And with his body strengthened multiple times over, one person alone could no longer fully satisfy the energy coiled inside him.
Still, he didn’t head for the shipwreck right away.
He stayed where he was, waiting quietly for her to wake.
When she finally stirred in the afternoon, the sun had already begun its descent.
The wind rustled the palm leaves overhead, warm light flickering against her eyelids.
She opened her eyes and saw Aoyama’s back first.
He was sitting nearby, checking the string on his compound bow with steady focus.
“Mm… what time is it?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
He glanced back at her.
“No idea.
But I’d guess sometime in the afternoon.”
She shot him a languid glare with those still-damp eyes.
Propping herself up, the shirt slipped from her shoulders, revealing pale skin and the faint marks blooming along her collarbone.
She looked down at her rumpled clothes, ears warming briefly before she composed herself, straightened the fabric, and met his gaze again.
“Have you checked the shipwreck yet?”
“No.”
“I wasn’t comfortable leaving you alone on the beach in your earlier state.”
Utaha swept her hair back and rose to her feet, though her legs trembled slightly.
She walked over and glanced at the long blade at his waist, the compound bow slung across his back, and the machete resting near his feet.
He handed her the machete.
“Keep this for protection.
Once I’m underwater, stay close to shore.”
“If anything approaches the beach, use the machete or the Flare Gun.”
She took the weapon, testing its weight in her hand.
The solid heft steadied her nerves.
Looking up, her crimson eyes shone in the afternoon light, reflecting his figure clearly.
“Be careful, Aoyama-kun.”
He nodded and turned toward the sea, but a light tug stopped him.
He looked down to see her fingers wrapped around his wrist, not tight, but firm enough to make him pause.
“Something else?”
Instead of answering, she stepped closer and rose onto her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
It lasted only a heartbeat, as fleeting as the sea breeze brushing past them.
When she pulled back, the tips of her ears were pink, though her expression remained composed.
He held her gaze for two seconds.
“Wait for me,” he said.