(V4) Chapter 3: Destined Rivals

The salty breeze blew through the shoreline, laughter echoing from the blue waves as beach balls bounced across the sand and students scattered around with sunblock, towels, and an unusual amount of chaotic energy.

Komorebi High had officially claimed this stretch of paradise.

While everyone raced into the ocean or lounged under beach umbrellas, one lone soul was stuck behind a cloud of smoke, armed with metal tongs and skewers.

Of course, me.

"Hot damn! Fuck! Just light up!"

I swore at the grill as if it was my nemesis.

“I swear to every god known to man, if someone doesn’t take over in the next five minutes, I’m burning all the yakitori on purpose!”

I folded another piece of paper, lit it up with a lighter and pressed it against the lump of charcoal.

"Dude, don't complain. You volunteered."

I turned around, and I saw Akito plopped on a cooler like a king. In his hand, a can of soda and a fully romantic doujinshi.

“Right—but I knew I got tricked.”

“Same thing. Guess time for work.”

Akito folded his manga close and started crushing melons and lemons then extracting the juice into glass bottles that he kept in the cooler.

"Creating something out of brute force doesn't guarantee success. Sometimes, you have to take it precisely, surgically..."

He takes the next batch of fruits, and slices them into thin slices.

"...And you gotta pour your heart in the craft."

He picked tall glasses, placed crushed ices on the blender, and made the fruit shake mixture.

"And gentleness is bold. Everything has its own mode of creation, and perfection yields to the compassion of the creator."

And when he finished putting the mixture on tall glasses lined up on top of a long table, he put the extra slices of fruits on top.

"There, a masterpiece, bud."

I frowned, unaware that the grill was already lit up.

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"From a vampire hunter manga I read last week. The main character relied on being cautious and made slow and calculated moves to eliminate the vampire king."

"Well it worked. Let's say that your delusions were kinda effective."

I only realized that you have to fan the flames gently in order to light the whole thing up.

The fruit shake’s flavors covered the entire hut, and the air between us smelled faintly of roasted savory chicken and sweet confection.

"Where's Airi-san anyways? She was on food prep duty with me!”

"That gyaru?" Akito sipped, "In the dressing room almost with every swimsuit gods of our classroom."

I flipped a yakitori skewer, slightly charring the edge. The heat of the grill—and the sun—didn’t help.

"Honestly, I think she has no intention of—"

I was caught mid sentence when Akito snapped.

“OH MY GOD, THEY'RE COMING OUT!”

A wave of screams from the guys came like chainsaws through silence. Chairs flipped to the sands. Phones whipped out. Someone dropped their coconut to their feet.

The girls from our section walked towards the shore, a fashion show for the ages.

Takamine-san remained coated in her floral summer dress, while Airi-san, in a black bikini, flanked her sides.

She lowered her shades, and her sharp eyes darted toward me.

Then she raised it again and looked away.

After her, a larger crowd.

And in the middle of the crowd of sexiness held one girl that stood out.

Ayase. Her cheeks are rosy from either the heat or something else.

Completely on the garments that I chose for her, she looked more dazzling—more than those students that showed more skin.

Soft white blazers, bikini with translucent hems that stretched from her shoulders to abdomen. Below was a short skirt that covered her lingerie.

Too hot, too perfect. A match for my taste.

And her hair? It was tied up in a loose bun, making me sweat all over myself.

"Damn..." I whispered.

Her pink clip remained tucked in her bangs, as if to say, this is still her.

Girls around her cheered. Boys? Boys were experiencing actual heart palpitations.

Some guy shouted, “IS THIS A VISION FROM HEAVEN?!”

Another gasped, “I didn’t know someone could literally glow!”

Then a male student ran on the shore, holding a camera up front. "OHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Even Akito was speechless, mid-sip, soda spilling a little.

After Ayase disappeared from the background, I continued flipping skewers.

Focus. Focus. Just finish this one and you'll be able to enjoy this day too.

“…You’re really not gonna look at them?” Akito muttered, half in awe.

"Too much spectacle." I replied, brows furrowed. "I might really burn these yakitori when I do. Besides, they're not some festival fireworks to gawk at."

“You’re either incredibly noble or incredibly dumb. We're boys, dude. Fantasies are normal.”

“…Probably all of the above.”

But then—

A shadow appeared at the side of the grill. A quiet presence.

"Ishida-kun?"

I lifted my gaze to the front, and I almost threw a coughing fit receiving the grill smoke.

Takamine-san.

“Still cooking?”

Her voice was soft, but it kinda carried teasing.

She held one paper plate and smiled at me with that same warmth from the riverbank.

“You came back from America just to get food?”

Even Akito behind me chuckled at my sudden joke.

She giggled. “Maybe. Or maybe the sight of you sulking behind smoke was too pitiful to ignore.”

I suppressed a snort.

"What's the catch? If you come to borrow me, then expect all of you to be hungry."

"10 yakitori, please. That's the reward for a friendly volleyball match between the girls."

"Fine."

I handed her what she requested, and continued fanning the grill vigorously.

She accepted it with a small thank you.

“Looks good,” she said, then leaned a little closer. “Why don't you join us later, Ishida-kun? I might as well appreciate your cheering.”

I almost dropped the tongs into the charcoal.

"Pfft."

My eyes flicked away awkwardly.

“You’re, uh—” I stammered. "You’re kinda frying my brain with that suggestion, to be honest.”

Takamine-san tilted her head, amused. “Good. Let it simmer.”

Just as she turned and walked away, she untied her summer dress and it fell free in the sand, revealing her blue bikini that screamed elegance and nobility.

Her skin glimmered, seamless and pristine. She looked like an untouched painting.

The crowd of boys lost it again, flashing out their cameras in a hurry.

"Hmm." Akito elbowed me lightly in the side. "You owe me a lot of explanation right now, you traitor."

My shoulders recoiled.

"What do I have to explain?"

I can feel that there's a murderous glance burning at my back.

"Since when Takamine-san got cheesy with you, you wicked son of a witch? You just got dumped, right?"

"We just mended things. There's no need for you to get hysterical." I spat.

"Seems not like it."

"We were just talking."

“Oh really?” His brows arched with amusement. He smirked devilishly.

Akito shook my body violently, making me defensively throw the tong back at the grill pad.

"SHE NEVER TALKED TO ANYBODY LIKE THAT!"

“Stop shaking me!" I shrieked. "Do you want to roast both of us?!"

"Geez. You’re so stubborn." Akito rolled his eyes, letting me go. "Anyway, she must like you if you manage to make her smile like that."

Right, Takamine-san was way too formal than that. A small talk about assignments and school activities is all we had. Nothing too personal, nothing too close.

Yet I feel like lying to myself looking back at what has been happening between us recently.

Akito would've exploded right on the spot if he knew.

"Don't say such nonsense." I hissed.

“Fine, wallflower hero. I gotta get going."

Akito swarmed forward and joined the main group at the shore.

As I tried to calm myself down, a certain whirling ball took flight next to our position.

It carried so much velocity that it would've turned the whole grill into a mess when hit.

Fortunately, it crashed on the sand bar. Unfortunately—it created a small sandstorm at the height of impact.

"Woah!" I exclaimed, tongs still in hand.

“Oops! Sorry, Haru!” Saori came jogging up, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. She looked like she was trying so hard not to laugh. “Our spike game’s a little too good.”

I turned slowly to the scene of destruction.

"Please spare my yakitori from devastation."

"Of course! We don't want to end up hungry!"

But before Saori could leave, a voice came from behind me. Calm, smooth, and way too amused.

“Was that your classmate playing, senpai? Looks intense.”

I turned and came face-to-face with someone I hadn’t expected—a first year student probably. He wore a tank top and loose shorts, his face and haircut screamed decency and mildness.

“You’re from the room next door, right?”

"504, yes."

"Looks good."

“I can take over here,” he offered, giving the grill a once-over. “Looks like you’re being summoned to the battlefield.”

He nodded toward the volleyball court.

“Eh?” I blinked.

Sure enough, my classmates were waving me over. Some were already shouting my name like I’d just been drafted.

Saori immediately jumped in, beaming. “Perfect! We’re down one! Come on, Haru—we need someone who can spike!”

I raised a brow. “I don’t know if I can spike volleyballs.”

“Then at least block! You’re tall enough!” she argued, already dragging me toward the court.

I hesitated. He grinned.

“I’ve got this, senpai!”

“…Thanks,” I muttered, handing him the tongs like I was passing on a legacy. “Don’t burn the sauce.”