the balm of the afternoon sun was a much-needed salve to cleanse the rot of a sorcerer's soul.

a beach day was an effective measure.

time was trickling by sluggishly, pleasantly. satoru and riko had no qualms about spending it hunting after seagulls with maniacal glee, flicking each other with saltwater, and publicly shaming sea cucumbers.

“suguru! suguru!” the teenager yelped and stumbled over to his best friend, flailing something in hand.

satoru stood bright and sand-dusted in his swim trunks, salt-speckled hair sticking out in every angle.

his chest heaved and his cheeks flushed from play, yet—he still stood before suguru, almost foolishly meek, fingers carefully curled around something that appeared so precious to him.

satoru was waiting for suguru, it seemed; like he thought the world of his best friend’s care.