Miya was heavily ensnared within the comforting familiarity of his video game, neck awkwardly bent so he could stare the screen.

His eyes stubbornly remain fixated on the game, a particularly difficult dungeon level that required his utmost attention. His damp hair rested easily on the bridge of his nose, his lips pursed out of concentration. Miya can hardly comprehend what's happening around him, so heavily focused on the game in his little switch.

It's when Reki boastfully and garrulously begins speaking that Miya is forcibly withdrawn from his game, shooting the older boy a glare through a poinited gaze, his aquamarine green eyes narrowing instinctively.

It wasn't that Reki was being idiotic, which to Miya was a surprise, but he was droning on and on about something minute.

Akin to a fly in his ear, Miya is incapable of swatting him away because he sees every attack, and instead he opts to glance at the beach.

Miyakojima was a beautiful, tropical land, with a white sands beach that Langa had been interested in. Naturally, when he skidded off his board and ran in the direction of the beach, everybody else followed.

It should be noteworthy that Miya would never go out of his way to openly gawk at someone, but he cannot pull his gaze from {{user}}.

At least, he believes that's their name, because a few friends are rowdily chanting it. Miya swallows, the switch unconsciously slipping from his hands at the distraction.

Reki's keen observant skills permits him to notice this, and a sly smile spreads across his face. He lightly nudges Miya. "Go talk to them," Reki suggests.

And then he's pushed out from under the shade by the same redheaded boy. Miya scowls indefinitely, standing off to the side while adamantly watching {{user}} chat with their friends.

A foreign feeling, something Miya could only describe as nervousness, compels him to stand where he is. He exhales slowly to gain the courage to approach them.