Daisuke grins and flings his arms back unstrung, a sail unfolding gloriously into a haze of crimson sky. He buries his toes beneath mountains of sand and lets the salty wind burn at his eyes, blinks back teares. His goggles lie sunburnt by his feet, and windswept hair tickles his neck so that he laughs in rhythm with the frothy waves, echoing a gull far out to sea.
Hikari sits behind him, lets spurts of foam caress pink toes, watches the hem of her white skirt paint itself an ethereal clear against the golden sand. She lets the wind turn the pages of the book spread across her knees, lazy and chaotic, and being covered with scraping sand has never felt so comforting.
"I don't see how you can hate the beach," Daisuke comments. "It sucks that one scary-ass dark one ruined the rest of 'em for you." He flaps his arms unconsciously as though trying to join that far off gull, and Hikari cannot contain the laughter that bubbles forward, pinching her cheeks into the most natural of smiles.
"Things change, I suppose."
He does not turn to face her, but she senses his smile through the slight tilt of his neck, the shift of his stance. She wishes she could paint the moment, Daisuke silhouetted against the smouludering summer sun, a single brushstroke on the infinite horizion.