CHAPTER 54: SHE ORGANIZED A POOL PARTY

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It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Not in the ominous, someone’s-about-to-jump-out-with-an-axe kind of way.

No — the "someone-just-barricaded-themselves-inside-their-room-after-a-lust-fueled-magic lock-in" kind of quiet.

Which, somehow, felt worse.

I stood outside Akane’s door for the third time that morning, debating whether to knock or just slide a heartfelt apology note under the frame. Maybe attach a muffin. Or a fire extinguisher.

"Akane...?" I called gently, pressing my ear to the door.

Silence.

Then a muffled voice: "Don’t. Talk. To me."

Reasonable.

I stepped back just in time to dodge a butter knife that flew past my face and clattered on the wall behind me.

"Oh cool!" chirped Mei, popping up beside me like a jump-scare in red pajamas. "That one was just a warning shot. Here’s your actual welcome gift."

She handed me a glittery pink dagger with ’Back Off, Horny’ etched into the blade.

I stared at it. "Mei, what is this?"

"A ceremonial ’Stay In Your Lane’ dagger," she said proudly. "Everyone gets one. Except Akane. She’s on time-out."

"You’re making weapons now?"

"Technically, I’m just distributing them. Elira made the mold. I bedazzled them."

"...Why are they warm?"

She winked. "You don’t want to know."

---

Downstairs, chaos was unfolding in its own flavor.

Sora had declared — very seriously — that we needed a "Pool Party of Emotional Recovery and Mild Hydration."

"I already inflated the floaties," she muttered, dragging a massive beach ball into the hallway. "And if I don’t get to relax today, I swear on all my blades I’m going to tranquilize someone."

Ayame followed behind her with a clipboard.

"Yes, but we still need to establish boundaries around the pool. There will be no lap-sitting. No straddling. And absolutely no—"

"—tongue fencing," Elira groaned, walking past with a tray of actual tea. "I’m never unseeing what I saw last night. Do you have any idea how long it takes to unboil mental eyeballs?"

I raised a hand. "Just for the record, I don’t remember half of it."

Mei popped in. "Don’t worry, I do! I drew diagrams!"

"MEI."

"Just doing the good work."

---

The tea, thankfully, was not laced with love potions this time.

We all sat around the living room — minus Akane, who was still on her self-imposed quarantine — sipping tea, avoiding eye contact, and pretending everything was totally normal.

Spoiler: it was not.

Ayame took a long breath and addressed the group. "Alright. Moving forward. We need a strategy for preventing this kind of magical disaster from happening again."

"I vote we chain Ren to a wall," Rin said flatly.

"I vote we don’t do that," I said quickly.

"I vote we chain Akane to a wall," Mei added.

"I’M RIGHT HERE!" Akane’s voice shrieked through the walls.

"...My bad," Mei said without remorse. "Thin walls."

---

Later that afternoon, I found myself sitting by the pool — shirtless, tired, and emotionally wrung out — watching Sora set up snacks like it was the opening ceremony of the Olympics.

"This one’s for hydration," she said, pointing to the cucumber water. "This one’s for blood sugar. This one’s just cookies. And this—" she held up a tray "—is to keep you distracted from your sins."

"...Appreciated."

She nodded. "Don’t thank me yet. The swimsuit Rin picked for you is borderline criminal."

Just then, Mei appeared, dual-wielding two more daggers. "Found these in the laundry room. Labeled ’em ’Thigh Gap’ and ’Sin Repellent.’ You’re welcome."

"You need help," I muttered.

"You need a therapist," she corrected, tossing me one. "But I’m cheaper."

---

By evening, the mood had... improved.

Mostly because we were all too exhausted to keep being weird.

Mei was teaching Rin how to juggle knives, Sora was blasting K-pop from a waterproof speaker, and Ayame was frantically trying to enforce sunscreen rules like a stressed single mom on vacation.

But Akane still hadn’t come out.

I stood once more in front of her door, unsure what to say.

"Akane, it’s me," I began. "I just wanted to say... I’m not mad. Or ashamed. Or anything. I don’t blame you. We were both under the influence. But... if you ever want to talk, or scream, or stab me a little bit with a glitter dagger... I’ll be here."

A pause.

Then, softly:

"...Did you really kiss my neck that many times?"

I turned beet red. "I—uh—maybe? I wasn’t exactly in control—"

Another pause.

"...Okay. I’ll come down for cookies. But if anyone says anything weird, I’m jumping into the pool with bricks."

"Understood."

---

When she did finally appear, bundled in a hoodie and sunglasses like a celebrity avoiding paparazzi, everyone went completely still.

Then Mei said, "So... second base?"

"MEI—!"

Akane launched a dagger at her.

And just like that...

Things felt normal again.

Sort of.

Maybe.

Okay not really.

But at least no one was trying to hump anyone through a magical barrier.

Progress.

---

You’d think after a house-wide magical sex fiasco, we’d all take a break from anything involving bare skin and temptation.

Nope.

This was Sora throwing a pool party.

"To cool off," she said.

Right. Like that was going to help.

And yet, here I was—sitting on a deck chair with a drink in hand, trying very hard not to ogle five beautiful girls walking out in swimsuits like a synchronized goddess squad.

Mei cannonballed in first, nearly drowning Rin. "I call dibs on the flamingo floatie!" she yelled, goggles already fogged up.

Elira followed in a graceful arc, like a diving dolphin—but with way more cleavage. Her emerald one-piece left very little to the imagination.

Rin dipped in silently, her jet-black hair tied up, lips pressed tight like she was doing algebra in her head. Probably calculating splash angles.

Ayame walked out in a deep red bikini with her usual confidence, tying her hair into a bun as if she was about to give a TED Talk on seduction.

Akane... wasn’t there.

She had gone back up to her room. Probably trying to pretend none of this ever happened.

And finally... Sora.

The mastermind of this chaos.

Still on the poolside.

Covered with a towel.

Holding a clipboard like this was some kind of tactical mission briefing.

"...You’re not even in a swimsuit," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Sora looked up from her checklist. "I’m supervising. Hydration. Safety. Potential cannonball damage."

"You’re scared of the water," Ayame sing-songed from her floatie.

"No, I’m not."

"Then why haven’t you gotten in?"

"I’m... hydrophobic."

"That’s not a real—"

"Technically it is," Rin muttered.

"Not helping, Rin!" Elira snapped.

Ayame smirked and glided toward the edge of the pool like a smug water spirit. "You’re the one who planned this whole thing. Are you telling me Miss Tactical Pool Commander can’t even get her feet wet?"

Sora looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

Mei swam by and grinned. "Come on, Sora. The only thing dangerous in here is Rin’s splash radius."

"That was one time!" Rin shouted.

Elira floated on her back, eyes closed. "Let her be. Sora’s fear makes her mysterious. Like a sexy hydrophobic vampire."

"I’m not afraid of water!" Sora barked. Then paused. "...I just... don’t like the way it moves."

Everyone stared.

I sighed, stood up, and walked over to her, stretching my hand out with a gentle smile.

Her eyes darted to it, then to me, then to the water. Then back.

"...Don’t make me," she muttered.

"I’m not. Just offering."

She took off the towel.

Her lips pursed. Her fingers twitched. Then slowly—hesitantly—she reached out and took my hand.

The moment our palms touched, I felt her squeeze. Hard.

Like I was the only thing keeping her from teleporting back to dry land.

"Okay," I whispered. "Step in slowly."

She gritted her teeth as she dipped a toe.

Then another.

Then, before I could finish saying "You’re doing great", she slipped—and crashed into me with a splash, arms locking around my neck in full panic-koala mode.

My foot hit the slope.

We both tumbled forward.

"ACK—!"

Splash.

Now we were both in.

And her entire body was clinging to mine like an octopus on a sinking ship.

I surfaced with her in my arms. "You okay?"

"I hate this," she whispered into my ear.

"I figured."

"But I hate being away from you more."

The words hit harder than the water.

I looked down.

Her swimsuit was light blue, clinging tight to every curve, now soaked and nearly transparent. Her pale skin flushed pink, her white hair plastered to her face.

And she wasn’t letting go.

Not even a little.

The other girls floated closer, forming a loose ring around us.

"Well, well, well," Mei grinned, propping her arms on the inflatable flamingo. "Violation alert. No full-body clinging allowed."

"She’s drowning," I said.

"I can’t swim," Sora added, voice deadpan.

"Uh-huh," Rin muttered, raising a suspicious brow.

Elira gave a scandalous little gasp. "My goodness, Ren, her back is practically pressing into your—"

"Don’t finish that," I said quickly.

Too late.

Because she was.

Every curve of her brushed up against my arm, my chest, my hips.

And I could feel my body tensing—fighting the primal urge to grab her by the waist and pull her even closer.

"Support only," I muttered to myself. "Just support."

"Mm?" Sora looked up.

"Nothing. Just stabilizing your... flotation."

Mei was practically cackling now. "That’s what they all say before skinny-dipping becomes skinny-gripping."

Ayame laughed so hard she fell off her float.

Sora buried her face into my shoulder. "Why did I agree to this again?"

"Because you’re brave."

"I’m clinging to a man like a terrified squirrel."

"You’re my terrified squirrel."

She made a soft squeak and refused to look up after that.

And I didn’t mind one bit.

Because even if my brain was screaming "DON’T GRAB HER BACKSIDE" every five seconds...

My arms?

They didn’t let go either.

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