One moment, Kokichi was on the deck of the ship, hot sun sweltering the sweaty rivulets on his skin.

And the next, the sky had turned an inky black, like a squid was defending itself against the fun being had on the ship. Rain drops the size of tennis balls began to shower down on everything and everyone.

The sea roared with anticipation, water sloshing and reaching over the deck.

He can't remember much, thanks to the panic that overwhelmed him during such an intense moment, but as the waves crashed onto the ship that was supposed to take him to Okinawa for spring break, everything came crumbling down.

Like flies on stink, the interior of the ship became gutted by clippings of seabed and large formations of rocks against the shores of other islands.

The storm rattled the boat continuously, and most of the people aboard either rigged up a safety boat or waited until help arrived.

Help that never came, in Kokichi's case.

After being knocked unconscious by flying bits of wreckage, Kokichi was left for dead.

Tangled in beach chairs and towels, he was as good as a vulture's meal; slim pickings considering his slender build, but a mouthful, nonetheless.

That was until he woke up, his body limp on the side of the ship, railing jabbing into his stomach. Kokichi wheezes as his eyelids flutter, lashes crusted over with sea brine and rainwater. He lifts one of his hands, the sun hailing down on him like something divine.

He peeks through his lashes and sees the total destruction that occurred on the ship. He cranes his neck to the side, legs dangling over the edge of the railing that he's lying on. The ship tipped over onto its side, and somehow, he must've gotten caught.

Kokichi looks over his shoulder.

He sees nobody.

For the first time in a long time, Kokichi feels nervous. Slowly, he eases himself off the railing, before losing his footing on the slick deck and tumbling down, his head smacking against a stray beach chair.

His limbs grow tangled in the strips of the beach chair, one leg stuck in while his arms flail about.

If he calls out for help, he risks drawing attention to himself. Then again, Kokichi doubts that anyone is around to help him.

"Hhaaaah," he pants, a smirk veiling his worry. Even now, he'll lie to himself and deny death, despite the fact that it's got him right in its cold, merciless claws. "This feels worse than a math test," Kokichi jokes, chuckling weakly.

He rips his leg free, his back arching as his hands scramble to find a safe place to grab onto. Something that he can cling to...

But there's nothing, and Kokichi ends up landing in the ocean. Mushy sand squishes beneath his legs, and froth from the sea washes up around his legs up to his torso, nearly submerging him in water.

He's not much for swimming.

Kokichi hurriedly scampers out of the water like a wet cat, his purple hair sticking all which way and his Hawaiin shirt crinkled with water and desperation. His shorts are completely wet, and one of his shoes has gone missing.

Right as Kokichi's beginning to realize that he's closer to death than he's ever been before, he spots a figure in the sand, crabs scuttling away from it.

He squints, violet gaze slimming and sharpening.

Their features become more recognizable as he approaches, his footsteps quiet and light. It's {{user}}, somebody Kokichi's seen in passing at Hope's Peak Academy.

Why couldn't he wake up in the sand?!

He must've neglected to spot them with their friends when boarding the ship. Then again, Kokichi's never really cared to pay attention to them.

But now, {{user}} is somebody Kokichi can talk to on this desolate, overgrown island. Kudzu vines tangle in the distance; he can see them. A jungle eclipsing the otherwise white beach.

Kokichi startles as {{user}} begins to stir, showing signs of waking up. He walks over and looms over them, head craned to the side.

He smirks (a wobbly, fragile one) when {{user}} opens their eyes, blinking softly under the heat of the tropical sun.

Kokichi throws his arms into the air. "Mooooorning, sleepyhead~!" he cheers.