The warmth of the morning sun bathed the beach house as the day unfolded before them, and with it, the promise of endless possibilities. After breakfast, Takashi and Kenji disappeared into the kitchen to clean up, leaving Daiki and Arata alone for the first time since their confessions. Arata glanced at Daiki, his expression a mix of anticipation and excitement.
"So," Arata began, his voice light, "what's on the agenda for today, Mr. Mysterious?"
Daiki laughed, his heart light, the weight of years of unspoken feelings finally lifted. "Well, there's the beach, of course," he said, nudging Arata playfully. "And then I was thinking we could go for a walk around the town. I've always wanted to explore it, but I never had anyone to do it with." He gave Arata a teasing grin. "Now I do."
Arata's smile softened, his heart warming. "Sounds perfect," he said. "Let's do it."
They made their way to the beach, the sand cool beneath their feet as they walked side by side, enjoying the quiet solitude of the early morning. The waves lapped gently at the shore, as though the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The only sounds were their footsteps and the occasional call of distant seabirds.
"I still can't believe last night happened," Arata said, his voice thoughtful. "It feels like a dream."
Daiki glanced over at him, his expression tender. "It's real, Arata. We're real."
Arata smiled at him, a quiet certainty in his eyes. "I know. I just… I never thought it would happen this way. But I'm glad it did."
They continued walking, letting the peacefulness of the scene settle over them. The day stretched before them like an open road, full of promise. Neither of them was in a rush to fill the silence; instead, they let it hang between them, comfortable and unhurried.
Eventually, they reached the small town just outside the beach house. It was quiet, sleepy even, with small shops lining the streets and cafes that seemed to invite leisurely afternoons. As they passed a café, a few locals glanced up from their coffee cups and stopped their conversations mid-sentence. Daiki didn't notice at first, but Arata's posture stiffened beside him.
"What's wrong?" Daiki asked, his voice soft but curious.
Arata's eyes darted around, his smile faltering. "I think they're staring at us," he said under his breath. "I don't know why… but it doesn't feel right."
Daiki followed Arata's gaze, and sure enough, the few townsfolk that had been casually chatting suddenly fell quiet as Daiki and Arata passed. One woman with a cold stare whispered to her friend, her voice just loud enough for Daiki to catch the words, "That's them. The boys who—"
The rest of the sentence was lost in the rising tension of the moment.
Daiki tensed, his fists clenching, but he kept walking forward, refusing to acknowledge the venomous whispers. Arata glanced at him nervously, sensing the shift in his friend's mood.
"Daiki, let's just keep going. It's probably nothing."
But Daiki couldn't help it. His protective instincts flared, the sting of judgment already biting into him. He wasn't about to let anyone ruin this moment—this newfound happiness. "No. Let's figure this out."
They walked into the small general store near the town square, the door jingling as they entered. The air inside was thick with the smell of fresh produce and baked goods, but there was no hiding the icy tension when the owner, a stout man in his fifties, glanced up and gave them an almost dismissive nod.
"You two looking for something?" he asked, his tone more harsh than welcoming.
Arata shifted uncomfortably, but Daiki met the man's eyes with a steady gaze. "We're just looking around," Daiki replied evenly. "Is there a problem with that?"
The man's eyes flicked to Arata and back to Daiki, his lips curling into a faint sneer. "We don't usually get your kind around here."
Daiki's blood ran cold. "Our kind?" he repeated, not quite believing what he was hearing.
A few of the other customers in the store stiffened, exchanging looks, and the man's glare sharpened. "You know what I mean. Boys like you should be careful where you go. This town doesn't take kindly to… outsiders."
The words hit Daiki like a slap, and for a moment, he stood frozen, shock settling in. But Arata stepped forward, his voice firm but calm. "You don't know us. And we're not here to cause trouble. We're just enjoying the day."
Daiki looked at Arata, his heart swelling with pride for how strong his friend was in the face of such blatant discrimination. Still, he wasn't about to let it slide.
"That's right," Daiki said, standing taller, his voice carrying a hint of authority. "And if there's a problem with us being here, maybe it's your problem, not ours."
The man's face flushed, but before he could respond, an older woman who had been watching them stepped in. Her voice was clear and sharp, but it was tempered with kindness. "I'm sorry about him," she said, nodding toward the store owner. "He's got a habit of running his mouth. Don't mind him."
Daiki and Arata both turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden intervention. The woman gave them a sympathetic smile, her eyes kind but weary. "This town's not the most… accepting of new things. But if you've got good hearts, you'll find the right people here. Just ignore the noise."
She offered them a small nod, and despite the tension still lingering in the air, it was enough to make Daiki's shoulders relax. He offered a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks. We'll keep that in mind."
As they left the store, the woman's words seemed to echo in Daiki's mind. He looked at Arata, who was still tense but visibly more at ease after the interaction.
"See?" Daiki said, his voice lighter now. "Not everyone here is so… closed-minded. We just have to keep moving forward."
Arata nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. It's just a shame that there are still people like that, you know?"
"I know," Daiki replied, his hand brushing against Arata's. "But we don't let them win. We're stronger than that."
They walked out into the bright afternoon light, and though the tension hadn't completely dissipated, the weight of the moment felt more bearable. They didn't let the small-mindedness of others dictate how they would enjoy their time.
"I think we deserve a treat," Daiki said, nudging Arata with a grin. "Let's go grab something sweet."
Arata's eyes softened, his smile returning. "That sounds perfect."
As they walked through the town, they continued to enjoy the simple moments—ignoring the stares, brushing off the whispers. By the time they reached a small ice cream stand near the beach, the oppressive weight of the day seemed to lift, and Daiki and Arata were back to what mattered most: each other.