@backstrokes
He’d had no reason to seek out a beach the last time he was in the Hive.
The heat of summer had arrived, and while Yata wasn’t keen on wasting his time in the city when he could be looking for work, he needed to relax his mind. After being brought back from Shizume once more, the vanguard felt resigned; the anger was there, of course, but he knew now that he couldn’t do anything about it. Maybe that was the worst part of all.
So he’d taken to walking along the shore of the beach, absently kicking up sand and looking out towards the sea. It was a calm day, without much of breeze, and Yata could feel his bare shoulders warming under the sun. Several yards behind him lay his belongings: a discarded backpack, skateboard, and t-shirt. While he wore swim trunks, he had yet to venture into the water, more interested in walking off his poor mood than having a fun time swimming. What was even the damn point of it all--
Movement up ahead caught his attention, hazel eyes flickering away from the still waters and focusing on a figure in the distance. It took some seconds for his brain to catch up with who he was seeing, recognition then rapidly smacking him in the face. A sense of relief washed over him even as regret followed --so Makoto was stuck here, too.
Feet picking up the pace, Yata called out to him as he approached: “Makoto!”
