The ocean stretched out endlessly, sparkling under the mid-morning sun like scattered diamonds on a bed of silk. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore mingled with distant laughter, seagulls crying overhead, and the soft rhythm of summer.
But inside my chest?
A storm.
I stood at the edge of the beach parking lot, awkwardly clutching the strap of my backpack like it might anchor me in place. My eyes were fixed on the bus stop down the road, where Yuuki would appear any moment now.
"Bro, stop fidgeting," my younger sister Maru's voice rang out beside me, teasing and sharp as ever. "You look like you're about to meet your parole officer, not your girlfriend."
"She's meeting you for the first time," I replied, without looking at her. "Of course I'm nervous."
Maru gave a mischievous chuckle. "She should be nervous. You haven't told her about me, right?"
I flinched.
"You didn't, did you?"
"…Define told."
Maru let out a dramatic gasp, stepping in front of me with a look of betrayal. "Kaito! You didn't warn her about your adorable, overprotective, better half of a sister who might or might not interrogate her with a thousand passive-aggressive questions?"
"I said you were… enthusiastic."
She gave me a smug grin. "Oh, I'll show her enthusiastic."
I groaned, sinking into my hoodie like a turtle retreating into its shell. Why did introducing your girlfriend to your family feel like walking into a battlefield with a water gun?
As if summoned by my spiraling thoughts, I spotted Yuuki walking down the road, her sunflower-yellow dress swaying gently in the breeze, hair tied in a loose ponytail. She waved when she saw me, and just like that, the nervous storm quieted.
Yuuki.
She looked bright, like summer itself.
"Hey," she called out as she neared.
"Hey," I replied, hands awkwardly halfway raised, unsure if I should hug her in front of my family or pretend to be cool.
Yuuki solved it for me. She tiptoed and hugged me without hesitation, chin resting lightly on my shoulder.
"I missed you," she whispered.
"I missed you too."
Behind me, I heard a long, theatrical ahem.
"Yuuki," I said, pulling away and gesturing to the figure beside me. "This is my younger sister, Maru Igarashi. Maru, this is Yuuki… my girlfriend."
Yuuki bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you. Kaito's talked about you a lot."
"*Oh really?*" Maru said, her voice syrupy and dangerous. "He talks about me to you but doesn't talk about you to me. I feel like the betrayed wife discovering the mistress."
Yuuki blinked, unsure whether to laugh. I looked like I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.
"Relax," Maru finally said, flashing Yuuki a grin. "I'm kidding. Mostly. I'm just glad to finally meet the girl who managed to tame this human cactus."
The moment broke, laughter replacing the tension.
And just like that, the day began.
The beach was a soft canvas of warm sand and sun-dappled waves. We settled near a shady spot by a cluster of palm trees, laying down mats and unpacking snacks.
Mom and Dad had driven ahead and were already setting up the cooler and umbrella. My father, a quiet, stoic man, waved at us before going back to struggling with the umbrella. My mom came over to greet Yuuki, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"You're even prettier than the photos," she said, holding Yuuki's hands warmly. "Welcome, sweetheart. We've been looking forward to meeting you."
Yuuki blushed, and I noticed how tightly she gripped the picnic basket as if it were a shield.
"Thank you so much for having me."
"She cooked!" I said before I could stop myself. "I mean she brought these handmade egg sandwiches and fruit slices and..."
"Kaito," Yuuki hissed, mortified.
"You cooked?" My mom practically beamed. "You're already wife material!"
Maru let out a high-pitched *mhm* behind her drink.
And I, for the hundredth time that morning, wanted to disappear.
Despite the awkward start, the day blossomed into something peaceful. We played beach volleyball (where I got annihilated), waded in the surf, and shared stories over watermelon slices.
And there were these little moments.
Mom sneaking Yuuki another helping of rice balls.
Maru leaning close to whisper, "She's cute. You chose well, brother."
And Yuuki laughing at something my dad said a quiet, genuine laugh that made me turn and watch her.
I realized then how surreal it all felt.
Yuuki my girlfriend laughing with my family.
Not as an outsider. But like someone who'd always been a part of this picture.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped lower into the horizon and painted the sea in hues of gold and rose, Yuuki and I found ourselves walking along the shoreline, barefoot and quiet.
The sea licked at our toes, and the wind played with her hair.
"I was scared," she admitted, voice barely above the wind.
"Of my family?" I asked.
"No… of not belonging." She turned to me. "Of not fitting into your world."
My chest ached.
"I know I'm not perfect," she said, still staring at the waves. "I say the wrong things. I panic. I get jealous. I try too hard. I'm scared of the future. But being here today—seeing how your family welcomed me—I felt like maybe, just maybe… I could have a place in your life."
"You do," I said softly. "You always did."
Yuuki smiled. "Even before we were dating?"
"Even before I knew what love felt like."
She stopped walking. Turned fully to face me.
"Kaito… Do you love me?"
The question stopped the earth.
Not because I didn't know the answer.
But because I did.
And for the first time, I wasn't afraid of it.
"Yes," I said. "I love you."
Yuuki's lips trembled into a smile. She stepped closer, stood on her toes, and kissed me—soft and uncertain and full of everything we hadn't been able to say.
And just like that…
The ocean, the sky, the sand—everything blurred.
Except us.
That night, as we packed up and headed home, my phone buzzed with a message from Haru:
> "You better bring your girl back in one piece, lover boy. And tell her next time, I'm making her fried chicken."
Yuuki peeked over my shoulder and laughed.
"I like your friends," she said.
And I… I couldn't stop smiling.
Because for the first time in a long, long while, everything felt like it was falling into place.
Not all at once.
But one beach day at a time.