"Can you ask Miyamura tonight when he plans to confess?" Takagi blinked her big eyes, tilting her head playfully as she looked at Nishikata.
"Is that… really okay?" Nishikata's ears turned red, his voice tinged with hesitation.
"Just casually bring it up," Ayumi chimed in, raising her index finger like a conspirator revealing a grand plan.
"…"
Nishikata fidgeted for a while before nodding quietly. Truthfully, he was just as curious as they were.
And if Akira did confess successfully, maybe he could even ask him for advice later.
"Welcome."
The three girls entered the swimsuit shop first. The shop assistant, who had been lounging lazily on a rattan chair, immediately stood up and greeted them with a smile.
"We have all kinds of styles — please feel free to look around or try them on."
"Um…" Ayumi paused, glancing around. "Can we pick them out ourselves?"
"Of course! Just call me if you need anything," the clerk replied cheerfully, then returned to her seat, keeping an eye on them from the corner of her eye.
Moments later, the glass door opened again. A soft chime of seashell wind bells accompanied Akira and Nishikata as they stepped inside.
A cool breeze mixed with the sweet scent of sunscreen washed over them.
The shop, about thirty square meters in size, was packed with iron racks full of brightly colored swimsuits, their plastic packaging gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
Nishikata had already found a chair and sat down, scrolling on his phone. Akira wanted to join him, but then remembered his promise to Shouko — he'd help her pick out a swimsuit.
"Go ahead," Shouko said softly, noticing his hesitation. "I changed my mind. I want to keep it a secret and surprise you this afternoon."
Before he could protest, she released his hand and walked over to Ayumi and Takagi.
Seeing this, Akira simply smiled and went to sit beside Nishikata. After exchanging a few casual words, the two quietly scrolled through their phones together.
Both of them had brought their school swimsuits, so there wasn't much for them to buy anyway.
Meanwhile, the girls had practically turned the small shop upside down — checking every rack, opening and closing the fitting room curtain a dozen times, and comparing ruffled pink and sleek black styles in front of the mirror again and again.
Finally, after half an hour and a gentle reminder from the clerk, they emerged triumphant.
"Sorry for the wait, let's go back," Ayumi said cheerfully, holding up three paper bags.
Akira and Nishikata didn't mind. After all, they'd been through this before. They simply got up and followed the girls out.
The moment the glass door opened, a blast of hot, salty air struck their faces — thick with the smell of sand and sea.
The heat distorted the sign of a nearby convenience store, making it look like melted candy in the sweltering air.
Shouko, who had just stepped outside, instinctively drew her foot back, as if giving herself a pep talk before braving the heat.
"Grandma, I'm home!"
"Your grandma's in the kitchen preparing lunch," came a deep voice from the living room.
Akira turned toward it — an old man sat on a rattan chair, fanning himself with a small plastic fan. His dark, wrinkled face carried the calm of years spent by the sea.
"Grandpa!" Ayumi ran up to him, eyes shining.
The old man chuckled, fanning her lightly. "How did you get even thinner, Ayumi?"
"Grandpa, I'm not thin — I'm slender!" she declared proudly, twirling around. "I'm even considered chubby compared to some girls in class!"
The old man didn't quite understand what "slender" meant, but he secretly decided he'd make sure she ate well for the next few days.
Before he could ask about her classmates, Ayumi grinned and cut him off:
"Don't worry, Grandpa — I don't have a boyfriend!"
The old man froze, words dying on his lips as the others chuckled quietly.
She quickly introduced everyone, then headed to the fridge. "Grandma cut watermelon for us. Let's have some!"
The ceiling fan creaked above them as Ayumi handed out slices of chilled watermelon.
Plastic bag handles swayed gently in the air, casting soft shadows on the tatami floor.
Nishikata eagerly took a bite — but the moment his teeth sank in, his expression twisted.
It tasted… like garlic.
Shouko and the others all froze mid-bite.
Akira blinked, then laughed lightly. "Huh… classic. This actually brings back memories. My grandma used to do this too."
Everyone stared at him. "You ate this before?"
"Well… once."
Meanwhile, Ayumi grimaced, unable to handle the taste. She immediately shouted toward the kitchen:
"Grandma! Did you use the same knife you cut garlic with again?!"
The only response was the hum of the range hood.
"I'll go help Grandma," Shouko said, standing up quickly after finishing her slice.
"I'll help too!" Takagi added, following her into the kitchen.
Ayumi wanted to join as well, but her grandfather caught her by the arm, eager to hear about her school life.
Nishikata, watching them talk, couldn't help glancing toward the kitchen every few seconds, fidgeting.
Akira sat quietly, eyes scanning the room, his mind half elsewhere.
He'd already seen the small kitchen when he went to the bathroom earlier — three people inside would be the limit. If he joined, he'd just get in the way.
A few minutes later, the aroma of home-cooked food drifted from the kitchen. Soon, the table was full of steaming dishes.
After washing their hands, everyone gathered around.
"Itadakimasu," Ayumi said brightly.
Lunch passed in laughter and conversation, the fan's hum mixing with the faint sound of waves outside.
"When it cools down later, around four or five, let's go to the beach," Ayumi announced as they cleaned up.
"Take a nap first so you'll have energy later."
She gave Shouko a gentle push toward their room.
Akira and Nishikata exchanged a glance and nodded, heading to their own room to rest as well.
"Nishikata, you go ahead and sleep. I just need to finish something real quick," Akira said, opening his laptop.
"Got it."
Nishikata spread his bedsheet on the tatami, lay down, and stared at the spinning fan for a while — his mind restless.
"…Miyamura."
"Hmm?" Akira replied without looking up.
"Um… when are you planning to confess to Nishimiya?"
Akira stopped typing and turned his head, one eyebrow raised.
"Let me guess — Ayumi and Takagi asked you to find out, didn't they?"