Chapter 12: Salt on Our Skin

Chapter 12: Salt on Our Skin
“Some days don’t change your life.They just remind you why it’s worth living.” — Minato

Sunday arrived.

No alarms. No uniform draped over a chair like a sentence waiting to be served. Just pale light slipping through half-drawn curtains, dust floating lazily as if time itself had decided to loosen its grip.

Adam moved through the apartment on instinct. Laundry folded into neat rectangles. Dishes scrubbed until they squeaked. The floor swept twice, even the corners.

Routine kept his hands busy and his thoughts quiet. It was easier to exist when every movement already knew where to go.

Eventually, there was nothing left to fix.

He lay back on his bed, arms folded beneath his head, staring at the crack in the ceiling he’d memorized months ago. Today it looked like a coastline. Or maybe a scar.

His phone buzzed.

My Buddies Forever

Minato: Beach today.

Adam exhaled softly and replied without hesitation.

Adam: No.

Three dots appeared instantly.

Minato: It’s Sunday.
Hikari: The weather’s really nice…
Ryusei: There will be food.

Adam stared at the screen.

Adam: I don’t like crowds.

Minato: You don’t like happiness.
Adam: Correct.

Silence followed.

Too clean. Too suspicious.

The doorbell rang.

Once.

Then again, longer.

“Adam!” Minato’s voice echoed down the hall. “We know you’re awake!”

Adam closed his eyes.

So this was how it ended.

He pulled on a loose black shirt—long sleeves, high collar. Familiar. Safe. Habit masquerading as choice. When he opened the door, chaos poured in.

Minato stood grinning like this was a personal victory. Hikari hovered beside him, clutching a sunhat, already apologetic. Ryusei leaned against the wall with a cooler, eyes half-lidded.

 And Akane—

Akane smiled at him like the day itself had conspired.

“Good morning,” she said sweetly. “We’re kidnapping you.”

Adam blinked. “No.”

Minato grabbed his arm. “Yes.”

Ryusei nudged him forward. “Resistance is inefficient.”

Hikari bowed slightly. “S-sorry, Adam-kun.”

Akane stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Please?”

Adam met her eyes.

The argument ended there.

“…Five minutes,” he muttered.

The beach greeted them with noise and salt.

Waves crashed in endless repetition. Children shrieked. The air smelled like sunscreen and fried food and memories people didn’t know they were making yet.

Adam lingered half a step behind the others, scanning the shoreline out of habit more than fear. Akane kicked off her sandals and ran toward the water, laughing when the waves soaked her calves.

Hikari followed more cautiously.

They emerged from the changing rooms moments later.

Adam’s thoughts stalled.

Akane’s choice for the beach was simple—a light pink bikini paired with light blue, low-rise bottoms that avoided any loud patterns or flashy designs. Over it, she wore a sheer, white short-sleeved cover-up that softened her silhouette without hiding it entirely. A straw sun hat shaded her eyes, while the sunlight caught the delicate silver of her pendant and bracelet in a way that made Adam’s chest tighten unexpectedly.

She shifted her weight, one hand reaching up to nervously brush her hair beneath the brim of her hat as a light blush crept across her cheeks. It wasn't a look designed for attention; it was just Akane, shyly adjusting to the warmth of the day and the weight of his gaze. Even with her beige tote slung over her shoulder, ready for a standard day out, there was a quiet radiance about her that made his breath briefly forget its job

Adam looked away first.

Hikari stood beside her, quieter but no less striking in her own way. Her swimsuit was modest—a light red amber bikini paired with a matching golden-patterned sheer cover-up that draped gently over her frame. The pale, warm tones of her outfit felt intentional, like they belonged to someone who preferred to be noticed slowly rather than all at once. Her long, vibrant blue hair caught the ocean breeze, framing her face and the dark sunglasses that partially obscured her shy expression.

She held her arms close to herself at first, fingers interlaced nervously, her shoulders slightly tense under the bright midday sun. But as the salt air rolled in and the rhythmic sound of the waves settled around them, something in her posture eased. Beneath the brim of her straw hat, her dull gold eyes remained fixed on the sand, a soft, tentative smile playing on her lips as she finally began to relax into the beauty of the day.

She straightened.

Not boldly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.

Minato noticed—and very deliberately looked anywhere else.

Ryusei raised a brow, amused, while Adam caught the moment for what it was: two girls standing in the sun, not trying to impress anyone, just learning how to be comfortable in their own skin.

Akane finally glanced at Adam, cheeks faintly pink.
“Is it… weird?” she asked.

He shook his head immediately. “No. You look like yourself.”

That seemed to matter more than any compliment.

Hikari smiled then—small, genuine—and stepped closer to the water, letting the edge of the surf lap at her feet like an invitation she was finally ready to accept.

And for a moment, the beach didn’t feel loud or overwhelming or crowded at all.

It just felt warm.

Minato froze.

Completely.

Ryusei leaned in. “You breathing?”

Minato snapped his head away. “YES. NORMAL AMOUNT.”

Adam noticed.

Interesting.

They dropped their bags near the shore. Akane splashed water at Hikari. Hikari squeaked. Minato pretended not to stare. Ryusei claimed a towel and lay down like a man prepared to die.

Adam sat apart, hands pressed into the sand.

He didn’t take his shirt off.

Akane noticed. She always did.

She didn’t comment. Just glanced at him once, then back to the waves.

Eventually, Ryusei nudged him with his foot. “Get in.”

“I’m good.”

“You’ve been ‘good’ for twenty minutes.”

Akane walked over and crouched in front of him, water dripping from her hair, eyes gentle. “Adam.”

“…What.”

“You don’t have to,” she said softly.

He looked away.

“I know.”

Minato, utterly incapable of restraint, grabbed Adam’s ankle and yanked.

Adam went down hard. Straight into the surf.

When he surfaced, coughing, his shirt clung to him, heavy and soaked.

And the scars showed.

Thin lines. Round burn marks. Old. Healed. Impossible to miss.

The laughter vanished.

Hikari gasped. Ryusei froze. Minato’s grin collapsed.

Akane was already there, pulling him back, wrapping a towel around his shoulders without a word. Her hands were steady. Protective.

“I—I’m sorry,” Minato said hoarsely. “Adam, I didn’t—”

Ryusei looked down. “Same.”

Hikari’s voice trembled. “I’m sorry.”

Adam stared at the horizon, water dripping from his hair.

Then he smiled. Not sharp. Not bitter.

Just tired.

“This one,” he said quietly, touching a burn mark, “was from my father. Cigarettes.”

They stiffened.

“This one,” he continued, hesitating just a fraction, “reminds me I had a little sister.”

Silence pressed down like weight.

“And this,” he finished softly, “means I had a loving mother.”

Akane’s grip tightened.

Adam exhaled.

“…From now on,” he said, tugging the wet shirt over his head, “there’s nothing to hide.”

Sunlight struck him fully—muscle shaped by survival, not vanity.

Akane turned red instantly.

Minato whistled weakly. “Dude.”

Ryusei nodded. “Unfair.”

Hikari looked away, cheeks warm. “Adam-kun… you’re well built.”

Adam blinked. “Is that a compliment?”

“…Yes.”

They laughed. The rest of the day softened into warmth.

Barbecue smoke curled into the sky. Juice spilled. Ryusei passed out mid-sentence. Akane laughed until her stomach hurt. Hikari sketched the sea in quiet focus. Adam let himself exist.

Near sunset, Akane and Hikari headed to the washroom.

Ryusei remained unconscious.

Adam and Minato walked along the shore, waves brushing their feet.

“…I like Hikari,” Minato said suddenly.

Adam didn’t look at him. “I know.”

Minato frowned. “How?”

“You stop breathing when she smiles.”

Minato groaned. “I want to tell her. I really do. But I can’t.”

Adam stopped, watching the sun sink.

“Tell her,” he said calmly. “Even if it scares you. Regret lasts longer than embarrassment.”

Minato swallowed.

“…Firework festival,” he said. “That’ll be my cue.”

Adam nodded. “Fair.”

The train ride home was quiet.

Akane leaned against Adam’s shoulder, already asleep. He wrapped an arm around her without thinking.

Minato slumped on his other side.

Adam looked down at him.

Loud .Annoying. Loyal.

“…Is this what a best friend feels like?” he murmured.

That night, his phone buzzed.

Photos.

Ryusei asleep with makeup. Hikari sketching the beach. Akane flustered. A group selfie—sunburned, smiling, alive.

Adam stared at it longer than necessary.

Then typed.

Adam: Best buddies forever, huh.

For once—

He meant it.