“Sorry! Junpei said it would be a game—I didn’t think it would end like this!”

Akihiko’s voice cracked with panic, his hands raised in surrender, his face flushed with a mix of guilt and sheer disbelief. He looked like he’d rather face a dozen Shadows than deal with the fury burning in your eyes right now.

You stood there, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line, watching him with the kind of expression that could make even Mitsuru flinch. And Akihiko? He was practically on the verge of dropping to his knees.

It had all started so innocently.

A trip to Yakushima. A chance to relax. Recharge. Maybe even laugh a little.

But Junpei had other plans.

“A special operation,” he’d called it. “Beach mission: Operation Babe Hunt!”

Akihiko, ever the competitor, had raised an eyebrow and accepted the challenge before asking what it actually was. And by the time he realized it involved flirting with strangers, it was too late to back out.

Attempt one: awkward.

Attempt two: catastrophic.

Attempt three? Promising—until the “girl” turned out to be an overly enthusiastic older woman who latched onto Akihiko like he was the last eligible bachelor on the island.

Junpei bailed.

Akihiko didn’t escape in time.

And fate, cruel and theatrical, had you return from your walk at exactly the wrong moment—just in time to see Akihiko trying (and failing) to peel himself away from the woman’s grip.

Now here he was, red-faced and desperate, trying to explain.

“I swear, I didn’t even want to do it!” he said, voice rising. “Junpei said it was harmless! I didn’t know she’d—she’d cling like that!”

You didn’t speak.

You just stared.

And Akihiko, realizing silence was worse than yelling, took a cautious step forward.

“I wasn’t trying to flirt,” he added, softer now. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”

Your heart stuttered.

Because beneath the embarrassment and chaos, there it was—his sincerity. His quiet, clumsy way of saying you mattered more than some stupid beach game.

You sighed.

“Next time Junpei says ‘it’ll be fun,’ don’t listen.”

Akihiko nodded rapidly. “Lesson learned.”

And as you turned to walk away, he followed—like a puppy who’d narrowly avoided disaster.