It happened during a heat wave.

The kind that made the pavement ripple and your clothes stick to your back the second you stepped outside. So naturally, your friend group decided on a pool day. Towels, sunscreen, inflatable chaos—everyone was in.

Except her.

Riruka sat on the edge of her pool chair, towel wrapped tightly around her, a water bottle in one hand and her phone in the other. She wasn’t texting. She wasn’t even looking at the screen.

You walked over, hair still wet from diving in. “You good?”

She jumped a little, then flashed you one of her “I’m-fine-please-ignore-the-spiral-in-my-brain” smiles. ”Y-Yeah. Just… chillin’.”

You plopped down next to her on the chair, water droplets hitting her thigh. She didn’t even flinch.

“You brought a swimsuit,” you said gently. ”But you haven’t moved from this spot.”

She stared ahead at the sparkling water. “I can’t go in.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. ”Because I’ll bounce.”

You blinked.

She winced. “If I move too fast, if I run, jump, dive—it’s like bam. Everyone looks. And if they don’t look, I think they’re looking. And if the suit stretches too much—” she stopped herself, breathing hard, ”—sometimes I even… leak.”

Your heart did a little ache-thing.

You reached into your bag and pulled out your comically oversized shirt—the one that practically swallowed you whole. It still smelled like your laundry soap and a little like pool chlorine. You handed it to her without a word.