The first thing Yuki noticed was the sunlight—soft, golden, and impossibly warm. Not the kind that stung your eyes or made your skin sweat, but the kind you'd only ever seen in dreams or fading memories.
He blinked up at a sky so blue it didn't feel real. The air smelled like salt and rain, like something nostalgic he couldn't name. And when he sat up, the first thing he saw was her.
A girl stood at the edge of the beach, bare feet in the sand, letting the waves lap over her ankles. She wore a sundress that danced with the wind and a ribbon in her hair the color of sunrise.
She turned to him, eyes bright. "You're finally awake."
Yuki stared, heart skipping. "Do I… know you?"
The girl smiled. Not like a stranger would. Not like someone introducing themselves for the first time.
Like someone who had been waiting. Like someone who already knew how this would go.
"No," she said. "But you will."
She walked toward him, sand crunching under her steps. "You looked sad in your sleep. I almost woke you up yesterday, but you needed one more day, I think."
He blinked. "Where am I?"
"Somewhere kind," she said. "That's what I call it."
Yuki looked around—seagulls gliding above, a quiet town in the distance, the hum of cicadas singing summer's lullaby.
Everything felt vivid, too vivid.
Too perfect.
"Are you real?" he asked.
The girl laughed softly. "Does it matter?"
She held out her hand.
"I'm Ami. Want to spend the summer with me?"
Yuki hesitated.
Then, without knowing why, he took her hand.
And everything in him whispered: This is where the story begins.