The "Grand Alliance" between Rina and Haruka is a fragile, volatile thing, a truce held together by their shared ambition and the constant, weary supervision of Miki. My brief, beautiful dream of a few weeks of peace is, of course, immediately shattered by Kenji's terrible, brilliant idea.
A beach trip.
"It is the perfect pre-battle training camp!" he insists, his eyes shining with the deranged light of a true believer. "The sun will temper our spirits! The sea will wash away our doubts! And the swimsuits will… uh… improve morale!"
Miki and I are vehemently opposed. Hana is nervously neutral. But Rina and Haruka, after a brief, silent exchange of looks, both agree. I see the same, terrifying thought flash in their eyes: Swimsuits. It is a new, unexplored battlefield, a new arena in which to compete for my attention.
I am outvoted. My fate is sealed.
The planning session for the trip is a disaster. Miki, ever the manager, attempts to create a logical itinerary. "Okay, we will depart at 9 AM. The train ride is two hours. We will check in, have lunch, and then perhaps a quiet afternoon on the beach."
"Boring!" Kenji declares. "I propose a 'King of the Beach' tournament! Events include sandcastle building, watermelon smashing, and a 'Who Can Impress Rui the Most' contest!"
Rina and Haruka immediately veto the last one, not because it is stupid, but because they both want to rig it in their favor. The most heated debate, however, is about swimwear.
"A bikini is the obvious strategic choice," Rina says, as if discussing military tactics. "It is cute, it is classic, it shows off your hard work."
"Predictable and common," Haruka retorts, her tone dismissive. "A chic, well-cut one-piece can be far more elegant and mature. It projects confidence, not desperation."
They are not talking about fashion. They are debating weapons systems, and I am the target demographic.
"I think," I say, hoping to end the argument, "that long-sleeved rash guards and board shorts are the most practical choice for preventing sun damage."
They both stop and give me a look of such profound, unified disappointment that I feel like I have just insulted their entire families.
The journey itself is even worse. The seating arrangement on the train is a battle. Rina and Haruka both make a dive for the seat next to me. They end up flanking me, two beautiful, warring nations with me as the deeply uncomfortable demilitarized zone.
"Onii-chan, you must be tired," Rina says, her voice full of a cloying sweetness as she leans her head on my shoulder. "You can use me as a pillow."
"Do not crowd him, Hinamata," Haruka says from my other side, offering me a bottle of expensive-looking mineral water. "A proper handler needs to stay hydrated. You are far too considerate of others, Rui-kun."
"I am just fine," I say through clenched teeth, sitting bolt upright, afraid to move an inch in either direction.
Kenji, sitting across from us with Miki and Hana, is providing a running commentary. "Behold the king on his throne of thorns!" he narrates loudly. "Beset on all sides by beauty! What a heavy burden he bears!"
Miki just closes her eyes, a pained expression on her face, and puts on her headphones. Hana just nervously offers everyone cookies.
When we finally arrive at the resort- a beautiful, sun-drenched paradise of white sand and sparkling blue water- a sense of dread washes over me. This is not a vacation. This is a beautiful, sun-drenched hell.
As we check in, Rina and Haruka stand on either side of me, their postures radiating a competitive energy that could power the entire resort. "I call dibs on the beach chair to Rui-kun's left," Haruka declares.
"Too late," Rina says, "I have already claimed all adjacent territories in the name of the Hinamata sibling alliance."
They glare at each other. The swimsuit war has not even begun, and they are already fighting over beach furniture. I just sigh and look out at the beautiful, peaceful ocean. I have a terrible feeling that by the end of this trip, I am going to try and swim all the way home.