[ Unfortunately for Saito, Mizuki still manages to get there before him. How long before is not immediately obvious. She'd been anxious, and probably cut the farm work she'd planned to do short. (Sorry, Astralin.)
At first, she scans the shoreline, but there's not much aside from a couple stray dogs that promptly run off when they see her. The constant, melodic waves coming in and out of shore are a comfort, and eventually, she's taken off her boots to walk barefoot, squishing the sand beneath her toes. She wanders close enough to wet her feet, but after she starts to feel the cold travel through her bones from the water, she pulls back onto the dry sand.
Her hold on the boots loosen, and they land with a gentle plop, wobbling before they steady.
Now what? She turns to scan the direction she came from, but all she's met with are her own footprints. When she doesn't see Saito, she thinks about making herself comfortable in the sand.
Unexpectedly, she hears his voice. It's not too late to turn back, you know, he says. But you don't run, do you?
Her hair stands on the back of neck, but it's not him. That voice is too genuine, too annoyingly soft. And she's learned to ignore it after all the time, because nothing's ever come of it. She knows Date isn't magically going to show up, and probably never would. Lucky bastard. ]
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At first, she scans the shoreline, but there's not much aside from a couple stray dogs that promptly run off when they see her. The constant, melodic waves coming in and out of shore are a comfort, and eventually, she's taken off her boots to walk barefoot, squishing the sand beneath her toes. She wanders close enough to wet her feet, but after she starts to feel the cold travel through her bones from the water, she pulls back onto the dry sand.
Her hold on the boots loosen, and they land with a gentle plop, wobbling before they steady.
Now what? She turns to scan the direction she came from, but all she's met with are her own footprints. When she doesn't see Saito, she thinks about making herself comfortable in the sand.
Unexpectedly, she hears his voice. It's not too late to turn back, you know, he says. But you don't run, do you?
Her hair stands on the back of neck, but it's not him. That voice is too genuine, too annoyingly soft. And she's learned to ignore it after all the time, because nothing's ever come of it. She knows Date isn't magically going to show up, and probably never would. Lucky bastard. ]