🌞 Summer Morning

Summer break mornings are supposed to be quiet.

Megumi finds that out the hard way when a faint clink echoes through the house.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just wrong.

He sighs.

Too early. Too hot. Too annoying.

He drags himself out of bed, hair a mess, shirt abandoned somewhere on the floor because sleeping with it on was unbearable in this heat. He walks downstairs without a weapon, without caution — if it’s a curse, he’ll deal with it. If it’s a burglar, that’s their problem.

He flips on the light.

And there she is.

Halfway through the window.

One leg in. One leg out. Frozen like she’s been caught in a photo.

Sirfa blinks.

Megumi blinks back.

She straightens slowly, dusting her hands like this is totally normal, then lets out an awkward little laugh.

“…You woke up.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

Megumi stares at her.

“…Why,” he says flatly, “are you breaking into my house at six in the morning.”

She looks him up and down.

Takes a second.

Then whistles.

“Wow,” she says, winking. “Looking hot as ever. Morning to you too.”

Megumi’s eye twitches.

He is not in the mood.

It’s too hot. He didn’t sleep well. And the last thing he needs is her energy before breakfast.

“You know there’s a door,” he says.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she replies cheerfully. “Anyway—” she claps her hands once, bright and loud. “Wanna go swimming?”

“No.”

She tilts her head. “That was fast.”

“I don’t want people today.”

She squints at him. “Rude. I’m not ‘people.’ I’m me.”

“That’s worse.”

She laughs, completely unbothered, and hops the rest of the way inside like she owns the place. Megumi turns away, rubbing his face, already regretting waking up.

“You’re grumpy,” she says. “Heat getting to you?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re shirtless.”

“Yes.”

She smirks. “Not complaining.”

He shoots her a glare. “Stop looking.”

She raises both hands. “Relax. I’ve known you since kindergarten. This isn’t new.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

She grabs a bottle of water from the counter without asking and takes a sip.

“So,” she says casually, “pool’s empty, it’s summer break, and you look like you’re one inconvenience away from exorcising the sun itself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sweating.”

“It’s summer.”

She steps closer, grinning. “Exactly why we should go swimming.”

Megumi exhales sharply.

He didn’t want noise. Didn’t want company. Didn’t want her bursting into his morning like this.

And yet—

He knows she won’t leave.

“…You’re annoying,” he mutters.

She beams. “You love me.”

He turns away. “Get out of my house.”

She laughs again, already heading for the door. “Five minutes. Put a shirt on, grumpy.”

She pauses, glancing back.

“Oh — and Megumi?”

“…What.”

“Try smiling. It’s summer.”

She’s gone before he can reply.

Megumi stands there in the quiet kitchen, heat clinging to his skin, irritation buzzing in his chest.

“…This day is already ruined,” he says.

And for some reason—

He goes to find a shirt.

The pool is way too bright.

The sun reflects off the water like it has a personal grudge against Megumi. He sits at the edge, knees pulled up, arms resting on them, staring into the pool with the expression of someone questioning every decision that led him here.

Sirfa, on the other hand, is already in the water.

She surfaces with a dramatic gasp, pushing her hair back, water sparkling everywhere like this is a photoshoot and not a public pool at eight in the morning.

“Wow,” she says happily. “This is perfect.”

Megumi squints. “It’s too loud.”

“The water is loud?”

“The sun,” he mutters.

She laughs and swims over, resting her arms on the edge right in front of him.

“You look like a cat that’s been dragged outside.”

“I didn’t want to come.”

“And yet,” she says, gesturing at the pool, “here you are. Shirt on. Outside. Character development.”

He ignores that.

She splashes water at his feet.

Megumi flinches instantly.

“…Don’t.”

She grins. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

He sighs. “I don’t like being wet.”

She stares at him. “You’re at a pool.”

“Against my will.”

She pushes off the edge and swims a small circle around him like a shark.

“You know,” she says, “normal people usually jump in.”

“I’m not normal.”

“That’s obvious.”

She suddenly ducks underwater.

Megumi tenses.

She pops up right beside him, way too close.

“Boo.”

He jerks back, nearly losing his balance.

She bursts out laughing.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“That was extremely funny.”

She grabs his wrist before he can pull away.

“Come on,” she says. “Just five seconds. I promise.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You never do.”

She tugs.

He resists.

There’s a brief, silent struggle — then his foot slips.

Megumi goes in.

Not gracefully.

Water splashes everywhere. Sirfa gasps, half-laughing, half-surprised, as he resurfaces, hair plastered to his face, eyes dark and murderous.

For a moment, she thinks he might actually curse her.

Then he just exhales.

“…I hate you.”

She smiles brightly. “You’re welcome.”

He wipes water from his eyes. “I told you not to.”

“You’re alive,” she says. “See? Growth.”

He stays where he is, floating awkwardly, clearly not enjoying himself.

Sirfa, meanwhile, flips onto her back, drifting lazily.

“This is nice,” she hums. “No missions. No curses. No responsibilities.”

Megumi looks away, jaw tight.

“…You don’t have to sneak into my house,” he says quietly. “You could just ask.”

She tilts her head, watching him.

“That wouldn’t be as fun,” she replies.

He sinks a little lower in the water, eyes just above the surface.

“…You ruin my peace.”

She swims closer again, softer this time.

“And yet,” she says gently, “you never lock the window.”

He doesn’t answer.

The water ripples between them.

The sun is still too bright. The day still too hot.

But somehow, against his will—

He stays.