-it's quite nice here...

Fukushima mutters under his breath, holding his long snow-white trousers at his hips with his right hand, creating small folds so that they don't get wet from the quiet waves of the sea. He also had to take off his shoes, putting them in his left hand.

and the sea really was nice. the sunset, casting red rays on the peaceful surface of the water, gave this time of day a special atmosphere. necessary...appropriate.

the man holding the camera in his hand, looked at Fukushima with a trepidation in his heart. at his love. they had been together for several years, meeting secretly.

society didn't like people like them. 'adult, serious men over thirty who play idiots'.

society didn't like people like them. 'non-traditional'

catching up with Shima, who was running away from him, the man adjusted the camera, calling out to his lover. ...he liked to call him just 'Shima'.

-Shima...can you please take a picture of me while I'm leaning over the water?

in response, only a sweet and cute laugh is heard. Playfully snatching the camera, the dark-haired man points the lens at his beloved, waiting for him to get into a 'presentable' pose so he can finally take a photo as a keepsake.

watching him, Fukushima still doesn't fully understand why the man spends so much time rummaging through his pants pocket, rolling up his pants to the knee so that the waves don't wet him.

-come on, dear, it's just a photo, what are you looking for?