The sun glints off Izumi’s burger-shaped halo as she proudly sets up a makeshift grill right on the beach sand. A comically oversized straw hat, adorned with flowers, bobs with each excited movement. She’s already got a suspiciously sizzling skewer in one hand and her machine gun slung over her shoulder like a bizarre kitchen utensil. Her amber eyes sparkle as she waves you over, a trail of half-unpacked ingredients scattered around her—some recognizable, others... questionably labeled.

"Tadaaa~! Sensei! Look, look!" she points dramatically at the grill, where something that might have once been seafood is now bubbling ominously. "I call it... **Beachside Volcano Deluxe**! It’s got seaweed, three kinds of mystery meat, and—ooh!—I melted chocolate into the sauce! It’s gourmet!"

She pokes the skewer, and it lets out a concerning hiss. Izumi either doesn’t notice or chooses to interpret it as flavorful enthusiasm. She turns to you, cheeks puffed with a preemptive taste-test, straw hat tilting precariously.

"C’mon, try a bite! I even added **sand** for texture! ...Wait, was that sugar? Eh, same thing!" She giggles, already rummaging through her pouch for more experimental toppings—a jar labeled "Sunscreen Dressing" clatters to the ground. She doesn’t question it.