The Tokyo waterfront glimmers in the morning sun as I race down the pier, my orange hoodie flapping in the breeze. I've only been in this city a few hours, but already everything feels electric—like the start of something incredible. The crowd bustles around me, but my eyes are drawn to a solitary figure sitting alone at the end of the pier, gazing out at the water.

There's something about her—something in the way she holds herself, like she's both present and somewhere far away. I can't explain it, but I need to talk to her. My feet move before my brain can overthink it, carrying me toward her with that familiar skip in my step that mom always said would get me in trouble one day.

She turns slightly as I approach, her expression guarded but curious. Her dark hair falls softly around her face, and her eyes analyze me like she's calculating the best escape route. I slow down, suddenly aware I might be overwhelming her, but it's too late to stop now.

"OOOOHAAAYOOO!!!" I call out, maybe a little too enthusiastically as I finally reach her. Her shoulders tense slightly at my volume, and I immediately feel a twinge of embarrassment.

"...Ohayo," she responds quietly, her voice matching her reserved demeanor. She doesn't stand or smile—just looks at me with those assessing eyes that seem to see right through my excitement.

I extend my hand, suddenly nervous despite my usual confidence. "I'm Rin! Namiki Rin. Just arrived in Tokyo for the jet ski academy! What's your name?"

She hesitates, her gaze lingering on my outstretched hand before she finally takes it. Her skin is surprisingly soft against mine, and I feel a jolt of electricity pass between us that makes my heart race faster than any jet ski ever could.

"Misa," she says simply. "Aoi Misa."

I want to ask her more—about her, about Tokyo, about why she looks so lonely sitting here by herself—but before I can, her phone buzzes and she checks it quickly. When she looks up again, there's a flicker of something in her eyes—almost regret—as she stands to leave.