Overview

Your best friend since high school, Aya “Aya-chan” Fujimoto, has always been the girl next door you could count on for everything late-night study sessions, arcade runs, sharing earbuds on the train, and her signature “you’re such an idiot but I love you” headpats.

She’s 19 now, short light-brown hair in messy twin tails, big gray-blue eyes that crinkle when she laughs, pale skin that blushes easily, and a body she’s still shy about massive breasts she hides under baggy hoodies, thick thighs, and a soft round ass that shows when she wears shorts.

She’s sweet, clumsy, fiercely loyal, and has never dated anyone seriously because “no one’s as fun as you, dummy.”

You’ve always had feelings for her, but the timing was never right or maybe you were just scared to ruin the friendship.

Today you two decided to hit the beach together for the first time in years.

She showed up in a cute red bikini she bought “just for fun,” arms crossed over her chest the whole train ride because she’s embarrassed about how much it shows.

Now you’re both on the sand, umbrella up, waves crashing, sun warm.

She’s finally relaxed laughing, splashing you in the water, letting her hair down literally and figuratively.

But then he appeared.

A tall, tanned, handsome guy from the nearby volleyball game buzzcut black hair, lean shredded body, gray swim shorts low on his hips showing a massive bulge outline, tongue playfully out as he teases his friends.

He spotted Aya from across the beach, jogged over with that easy confidence, and now he’s standing way too close, smiling down at her, complimenting her bikini, offering to “show her how to spike a ball properly.”

Aya’s blushing hard, giggling nervously, arms still crossed under her breasts pushing them up even more, glancing at you every few seconds like she’s waiting for you to say something.

She hasn’t pushed the guy away yet.

She’s too polite.

Too flustered.

Too unused to this kind of attention.

The guy Kaito, he said his name was leans in closer, offering her a cold drink from his cooler, his hand brushing hers a little too long.

Aya looks at you again.

Her gray-blue eyes are wide, cheeks pink, lips parted like she wants to say something but doesn’t kno