Kiyoshi stared, dumbfounded by the shovel in one hand, and a small bucket in the other. They were both made of plastic, and a bright yellow color. That wasn't what had him stumped, though. Satoru and Etsuko had issued a sort of funtime they should all do, and it required making a castle in the sand. He'd never done anything like that before. He glanced towards the others, watching as Ryoka sat down and began piling sand near her. Etsuko wasn't too far off, though she seemed to be in a more contemplative mood.
He glanced towards Mika, and pursed his lips together. “Mika-chan, what am I supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up the tools in his hands.
Mika, whose bucket and shovel were both extremely bright pink for some reason, lifted an eyebrow at him. Tucking the shovel under her elbow, she turned the bucket upside down. "Do you see how this almost resembles a tower from a Western-style castle? Pack it full of wet sand, and it will keep its shape. Then you can build other castle-like features with your hands, until you have something that looks like a complete building."
She glanced around for a moment, then nodded at where his father was just pulling his bucket away from where he'd tipped it over against the ground. The sand-shape it left behind did indeed appear to have crenelations, of a sort.
Kiyoshi arched a brow, and pursed his lips together. Taking in a deep breath, he released it slowly, and kneeled down to pack sand into his bucket. Once it was sufficiently full, he glanced towards the water, and made his way towards it. He was almost knee-deep in the water before he dropped the bucket into it, making sure he still had a grip on it so it wouldn't float away.
He smiled to himself as he lifted it out of the water, and made his way back to Mika. He kneeled down on one leg, and tilted the bucket over, however; it didn't have the same effect. Unlike Ichikage's, whose castle had remained mostly solid and in place, the wet sand Kiyoshi had gathered was mostly muddy water. He frowned.
“Mika-chan, what did I do wrong?" he asked, confused as to what had just happened. Didn't he do as she stated, pack the bucket full of wet sand?
She snorted at him. "Sir, that's more water than sand. It won't stick together if you flood it. Try collecting from a little further up. Where the waves touch, but not actually under the water." She stepped out of her sandals, padding along the sand until she reached the line that marked the boundary between wet and dry sand. With the assistance of her spade, she packed the pail full of the sand, then carried it back over towards him.
Sweeping the ruined pile of sand away with the side of her foot, she tapped down what was left until it was close to flat, then upended her own bucket. When she pulled the plastic away, a perfect sand turret stood in its place. With a small smile, she met his eyes. "See? Simple."
Kiyoshi felt his lips pull into a deep frown. She made it sound simple, but it didn't look simple. He took a deep breath, and followed her example. He walked to the line she had been at, and stuck his shovel into the sand. Once his bucket was filled appropriately, he walked back towards Mika, and set it down next to hers. Carefully, he tipped it over until it lay completely against the sand. When he lifted the bucket, what should have been a replica of Mika's sand turret, there was a crumbled tower.
Any sudden movement, and it would crumble completely. Kiyoshi sighed heavily through his nose. “Perhaps this is not my calling," he mumbled beneath his breath. He could feel the frustration building up in his muscles, however; he managed to keep his expression passive.
A soft chuckle followed the declaration, low and subdued. Mika's hand moved, as if to reach for him in some way, but she aborted the motion before it could finish. "Well, sir, it is only your first effort. Why don't I make the towers, and you can build some of the walls between them? You won't need the bucket for those."
Kiyoshi blinked slowly. For a moment, he thought his hearing had gone... something. Not quite deaf, and not quite so loud that it hurt. It was a pleasant sound, one that he'd never quite heard before, and he stared at Mika with a rather incredulous look. He knew he was doing it because he could feel a slight squeeze in his chest, and he'd swallowed rather thickly. It wasn't something he was accustomed to, and he had to blink his eyes a few moments in order to gather his thoughts.
He hadn't heard what she said, initially.
“Alright," he finally spoke, finding his voice a bit softer than he was used to. He could do that, he supposed. With the shovel in hand, Kiyoshi did his best to make the sandcastle walls, however; each attempt he made, the walls were never stable enough. He sighed heavily, laying the flat side of the shovel against a wall in an attempt to smooth it out. By the time he was finished, he'd managed to get one wall stable.
“Perhaps this should be another thing I learn in my down time." It certainly wouldn't hurt.
"I'm not certain that's the best use for the zen garden," she replied crisply, somehow able to maintain her professional air despite the fact that she was wearing denim shorts and had grains of wet sound on her bare feet.
She took a look at his wall, tilting her head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was slightly past her shoulders now; long enough that she'd pulled it back into a short ponytail, but several pieces kept falling back into her face. A soft breath left her in a huff, and she set her bucket and pail aside, crouching between two as-yet-unconnected towers. Motioning with a hand, she signaled for him to join her, then dug her fingers into the sand, accumulating a small pile and pressing it together with a firm touch. A few inches to the left, she repeated the same, the wall shaping itself beneath her hands.
"Here—you try from that side."
He quirked a brow, but joined her where she was. He mimicked her motions, grabbing sand between his hands and making a small pile. He smiled as he repeated the process, pushing and molding the sand like she had. It had taken them a few minutes, perhaps half an hour, but by the end of it, Kiyoshi was nearly felt his face incapable of movement. He had been smiling the entire time they were building the sandcastle, and it had been nice.
Nice, because Mika had helped him build it, even if they were supposed to make their own. In a way, this was theirs. Something Mika and himself, created. He felt odd about that sudden thought that passed. It wasn't an unpleasant thought, and strange as it was in his own mind, he actually liked it. His brows furrowed deeply in confusion, but he shook his head to clear the thought away.
“I think we've made quite the fortress," he finally spoke, glancing in Mika's direction. He could feel pieces of sand stuck to his face, and some of it stuck in his hair. Most of it, however, was currently on his hands and forearms.
While he'd mostly taken over the task of building the walls, Mika had added fine details to them, using mostly what looked like the toothpick end of what had once been a drink umbrella. At his assessment, she tucked it away in her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief.
"You've—you've got a bit of sand on your face, sir. May I?" She gestured vaguely with the handkerchief towards him.
Instinctively, he wiped his own face, first. That, however, only managed to leave more sand on his face than he'd originally had. He leaned forward, instead. “If you don't mind," he finally spoke, leaning a bit closer so that she had a proper reach. He, however, didn't remove his gaze from her. He kept his eyes locked with hers, and for some strange reason, he could feel his heart rate pick up.
It felt strange. Maybe...
He lifted his hand where it had been, and moved a strand of hair from her face. It had fallen into her eyes, and he'd wanted to keep looking at them. “You had sand on your face as well." It wasn't an entire lie.
"Ah—" It seemed like Mika had meant to say something, but she stopped there instead. "Th-thank you." She cleared her throat quietly, lifting the handkerchief to his face and gently dabbing away the sand. Her breath was warm against his cheek, and slightly irregular.
She shifted, moving out of her crouch and onto her knees. It brought her a little closer, and a little higher, so that her nose was only perhaps six inches from his own. Mika wore a look of intent concentration, as though she were devoting great focus to her task.
This close and he could smell her. He didn't even have to breathe in order to know her scent. It was just there, like some kind of fragrance he could relish in. He could feel his vision focusing in and out, as if it were suddenly foggy outside. All he had to do was lean in...
“Watch out!" a voiced called out. Kiyoshi managed to move in time as a volley ball hit the sandcastle. It would have hit him had he not moved.
“You idiot!" Ryoka shouted, though the person who'd shouted first looked vaguely confused. Apparently they didn't understand Japanese, however; he looked vaguely mortified by the fact that the ball had nearly hit Kiyoshi and Mika.
“Apologies, Mika. Are you alright?" he asked, turning his attention away from the scene Ryoka was currently making with the guy.
Mika cleared her throat, shifting back onto her feet and standing. The handkerchief disappeared into a pocket. "Quite fine, sir. Thank you for your concern." She paused, then glanced to her left. "It appears, however, that our fortress has not borne the assault quite so well."
“So it seems," he spoke, glancing at the now-ruined sandcastle. He smiled, though, and glanced back in her direction. “We shall have to build a new one and reinforce it with proper fortifications," he stated matter-of-fact. He glanced to make sure it was clear, though it appeared that Ryoka was still arguing with the man. He chuckled lightly, and shook his head.
“Shall we? he asked, grabbing hold of the bucket and shovel.
"Let's."
He glanced towards Mika, and pursed his lips together. “Mika-chan, what am I supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up the tools in his hands.
Mika, whose bucket and shovel were both extremely bright pink for some reason, lifted an eyebrow at him. Tucking the shovel under her elbow, she turned the bucket upside down. "Do you see how this almost resembles a tower from a Western-style castle? Pack it full of wet sand, and it will keep its shape. Then you can build other castle-like features with your hands, until you have something that looks like a complete building."
She glanced around for a moment, then nodded at where his father was just pulling his bucket away from where he'd tipped it over against the ground. The sand-shape it left behind did indeed appear to have crenelations, of a sort.
Kiyoshi arched a brow, and pursed his lips together. Taking in a deep breath, he released it slowly, and kneeled down to pack sand into his bucket. Once it was sufficiently full, he glanced towards the water, and made his way towards it. He was almost knee-deep in the water before he dropped the bucket into it, making sure he still had a grip on it so it wouldn't float away.
He smiled to himself as he lifted it out of the water, and made his way back to Mika. He kneeled down on one leg, and tilted the bucket over, however; it didn't have the same effect. Unlike Ichikage's, whose castle had remained mostly solid and in place, the wet sand Kiyoshi had gathered was mostly muddy water. He frowned.
“Mika-chan, what did I do wrong?" he asked, confused as to what had just happened. Didn't he do as she stated, pack the bucket full of wet sand?
She snorted at him. "Sir, that's more water than sand. It won't stick together if you flood it. Try collecting from a little further up. Where the waves touch, but not actually under the water." She stepped out of her sandals, padding along the sand until she reached the line that marked the boundary between wet and dry sand. With the assistance of her spade, she packed the pail full of the sand, then carried it back over towards him.
Sweeping the ruined pile of sand away with the side of her foot, she tapped down what was left until it was close to flat, then upended her own bucket. When she pulled the plastic away, a perfect sand turret stood in its place. With a small smile, she met his eyes. "See? Simple."
Kiyoshi felt his lips pull into a deep frown. She made it sound simple, but it didn't look simple. He took a deep breath, and followed her example. He walked to the line she had been at, and stuck his shovel into the sand. Once his bucket was filled appropriately, he walked back towards Mika, and set it down next to hers. Carefully, he tipped it over until it lay completely against the sand. When he lifted the bucket, what should have been a replica of Mika's sand turret, there was a crumbled tower.
Any sudden movement, and it would crumble completely. Kiyoshi sighed heavily through his nose. “Perhaps this is not my calling," he mumbled beneath his breath. He could feel the frustration building up in his muscles, however; he managed to keep his expression passive.
A soft chuckle followed the declaration, low and subdued. Mika's hand moved, as if to reach for him in some way, but she aborted the motion before it could finish. "Well, sir, it is only your first effort. Why don't I make the towers, and you can build some of the walls between them? You won't need the bucket for those."
Kiyoshi blinked slowly. For a moment, he thought his hearing had gone... something. Not quite deaf, and not quite so loud that it hurt. It was a pleasant sound, one that he'd never quite heard before, and he stared at Mika with a rather incredulous look. He knew he was doing it because he could feel a slight squeeze in his chest, and he'd swallowed rather thickly. It wasn't something he was accustomed to, and he had to blink his eyes a few moments in order to gather his thoughts.
He hadn't heard what she said, initially.
“Alright," he finally spoke, finding his voice a bit softer than he was used to. He could do that, he supposed. With the shovel in hand, Kiyoshi did his best to make the sandcastle walls, however; each attempt he made, the walls were never stable enough. He sighed heavily, laying the flat side of the shovel against a wall in an attempt to smooth it out. By the time he was finished, he'd managed to get one wall stable.
“Perhaps this should be another thing I learn in my down time." It certainly wouldn't hurt.
"I'm not certain that's the best use for the zen garden," she replied crisply, somehow able to maintain her professional air despite the fact that she was wearing denim shorts and had grains of wet sound on her bare feet.
She took a look at his wall, tilting her head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was slightly past her shoulders now; long enough that she'd pulled it back into a short ponytail, but several pieces kept falling back into her face. A soft breath left her in a huff, and she set her bucket and pail aside, crouching between two as-yet-unconnected towers. Motioning with a hand, she signaled for him to join her, then dug her fingers into the sand, accumulating a small pile and pressing it together with a firm touch. A few inches to the left, she repeated the same, the wall shaping itself beneath her hands.
"Here—you try from that side."
He quirked a brow, but joined her where she was. He mimicked her motions, grabbing sand between his hands and making a small pile. He smiled as he repeated the process, pushing and molding the sand like she had. It had taken them a few minutes, perhaps half an hour, but by the end of it, Kiyoshi was nearly felt his face incapable of movement. He had been smiling the entire time they were building the sandcastle, and it had been nice.
Nice, because Mika had helped him build it, even if they were supposed to make their own. In a way, this was theirs. Something Mika and himself, created. He felt odd about that sudden thought that passed. It wasn't an unpleasant thought, and strange as it was in his own mind, he actually liked it. His brows furrowed deeply in confusion, but he shook his head to clear the thought away.
“I think we've made quite the fortress," he finally spoke, glancing in Mika's direction. He could feel pieces of sand stuck to his face, and some of it stuck in his hair. Most of it, however, was currently on his hands and forearms.
While he'd mostly taken over the task of building the walls, Mika had added fine details to them, using mostly what looked like the toothpick end of what had once been a drink umbrella. At his assessment, she tucked it away in her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief.
"You've—you've got a bit of sand on your face, sir. May I?" She gestured vaguely with the handkerchief towards him.
Instinctively, he wiped his own face, first. That, however, only managed to leave more sand on his face than he'd originally had. He leaned forward, instead. “If you don't mind," he finally spoke, leaning a bit closer so that she had a proper reach. He, however, didn't remove his gaze from her. He kept his eyes locked with hers, and for some strange reason, he could feel his heart rate pick up.
It felt strange. Maybe...
He lifted his hand where it had been, and moved a strand of hair from her face. It had fallen into her eyes, and he'd wanted to keep looking at them. “You had sand on your face as well." It wasn't an entire lie.
"Ah—" It seemed like Mika had meant to say something, but she stopped there instead. "Th-thank you." She cleared her throat quietly, lifting the handkerchief to his face and gently dabbing away the sand. Her breath was warm against his cheek, and slightly irregular.
She shifted, moving out of her crouch and onto her knees. It brought her a little closer, and a little higher, so that her nose was only perhaps six inches from his own. Mika wore a look of intent concentration, as though she were devoting great focus to her task.
This close and he could smell her. He didn't even have to breathe in order to know her scent. It was just there, like some kind of fragrance he could relish in. He could feel his vision focusing in and out, as if it were suddenly foggy outside. All he had to do was lean in...
“Watch out!" a voiced called out. Kiyoshi managed to move in time as a volley ball hit the sandcastle. It would have hit him had he not moved.
“You idiot!" Ryoka shouted, though the person who'd shouted first looked vaguely confused. Apparently they didn't understand Japanese, however; he looked vaguely mortified by the fact that the ball had nearly hit Kiyoshi and Mika.
“Apologies, Mika. Are you alright?" he asked, turning his attention away from the scene Ryoka was currently making with the guy.
Mika cleared her throat, shifting back onto her feet and standing. The handkerchief disappeared into a pocket. "Quite fine, sir. Thank you for your concern." She paused, then glanced to her left. "It appears, however, that our fortress has not borne the assault quite so well."
“So it seems," he spoke, glancing at the now-ruined sandcastle. He smiled, though, and glanced back in her direction. “We shall have to build a new one and reinforce it with proper fortifications," he stated matter-of-fact. He glanced to make sure it was clear, though it appeared that Ryoka was still arguing with the man. He chuckled lightly, and shook his head.
“Shall we? he asked, grabbing hold of the bucket and shovel.
"Let's."