The beach breeze is cold, finger-numbing as it carves along your skin. You’re near deafened by the continuous choir of sea waves roaring distantly, on par with the screeching of seagulls, the uneven texture of sand beneath your shoes.

Yet Suguru hears you call his name. He turns, his chin lowered, body language reserved. Slow and withdrawn movements. His black hair is unusually wiry, and his complexion frighteningly pale.

Regardless, the boy gives you a weary smile, and a nod. “{{user}}.”