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monologue with the beach

Summary:

O'saa is intrigued and decides to accept Marina's invitation to go to the beach. For the first time in many years, he's willing to change something about his outlook on life.

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Neither of them are particularly fond of beaches — for different reasons —, but the invitation came at an excellent moment: hours ago, Daan left him thoughtful. 

 

 

"For such a humorous man, you don't properly enjoy any leisure. Should I teach you how to have fun?"  

 

 

Instead of being defensive, he felt… strange. There's truth in that statement, and to deny that is to be purposefully obtuse… But no immediate solution is visible, since the logical path towards it is clouded. That way, how can one ever pinpoint what information to learn in the infinite sea of knowledge? 

 

 

Then Marina's letter arrived inviting them for a meetup at a beach. Marina, the talented young occultist whose capacity to have fun kept a good chunk of the contestants sane. An invitation coming from this lady could only mean a good time.

 

 

A day before and O'saa wouldn't have attended. Now he even spent some time choosing proper clothes for the weather, instead of the usual yellow mage outfit, and a portable ice chest just in case they needed to drink their own beverages.

 

 

Daan slapped on a tropical shirt and some shorts, ready to go in less than five minutes. He spent more time brewing a bottle of tea than dressing up. 

 

 

“Is your entire closet yellow?” he asked right before they left, rubbing the sleep away from his eye with a hand. 

 

 

“Yes, I do have a good fashion sense.” 

 

 

Similarly, O’saa wore a yellow unbuttoned shirt and shorts. He supposed that’s what people wear going to the beach… 

 

 

Driving for a few hours to enjoy a beach trip with a lover in the passenger seat surely wasn’t in his plans for this year. Or this lifetime. Oh well. He does his best to ignore Nas’hrah’s enraged voice as they travel. 

 

 

And he has to admit it, the warm morning sun, the wind in his hair, the country music playing on the radio and Daan’s small talk were all soothing and pleasurable. Enjoyable , he dares think, these circumstances that are not productive at all and have nothing to do with his personal journey are enjoyable .

 

 

They arrive an hour after the scheduled time, being welcomed by a feminine voice running in their direction. 

 

 

“Oh, you two came!” 

 

 

Curly hair, piercings and a short figure, that’s definitely Marina. Her attire indicates that their outfits weren’t too far off the mark; a striped swimsuit with a sarong around her hips and a comically large summer hat. 

 

 

“I thought you stood us up!” she continues. “You’d be the only ones missing!”

 

 

“We are fashionably late.” Daan explains. “I assume you invited everyone?”

 

 

“Oh, no, definitely no.” the girl frowns in disgust. “Only the cool people!” 

 

 

Marina’s concept of cool people could mean many things, so they decide to not think too much about it. 

 

 

“Come on, there’s a lot of beer~” she happily leads the path to the beach. 

 

 

“... Are you even old enough to drink?”

 

 

“I’m nineteen, mister ! And I bet I can hold alcohol better than you.”

 

 

Daan rolls his eyes. O’saa does not have the heart to tell him he’s been drinking since his early teens. 

 

 

A bunch of recognizable faces are at different points of the sand, some more remarkable than others. He counts ten people, a tall sand castle, a brazier grill and a volleyball net; oh, and many, many other ice chests.

 

 

They don’t need to speak to be at the mutual understanding that diving in the water is out of the equation. Daan opens the parasol and installs it a bit close to the volleyball players.

 

 

“There’s food at the grill if you want, and the beers are right by its side! Tell me if you need anything and have fun!”

 

 

She makes her escape before they can ask for anything. O’saa places their chairs and ice chest down.

 

 

“Do you tan often?” 

 

 

“... Unless you want me to look like a peeled shrimp, no.”

 

 

“Pfft.”

 

 

Turns out both of them brought books on very different subjects. He’s been trying to get more into reading lately, but the concept of diving completely into escapism for hours on end feels unfathomable and he has no interest in learning about irrelevant historical figures, so most literature is almost unreadable. 

 

 

Unlike him, though, Daan reads through any of the books available in a language he understands. Eclectic by nature…

 

 

… To a worrying degree, sometimes.

 

 

The first lines of the story are unoriginal and can’t entertain him past the second paragraph. Whatever is going on between the others catches his eye much easily. 

 

 

Just nearby, two pairs of people played an intense match of volleyball. Their names are still fresh in his memory, although the failed festival happened many weeks ago… The dangerous-looking man, Marcoh, teamed up with the silly salaryman from Edo, Tanaka…. And the noteworthy mechanic, Abella, teamed up with…

 

 

What was his name again? The blonde guy who approached him first at the train. Yeah, Henryk, a chef whose food smelled surprisingly good for a westerner. 

 

 

The high speed and force of the match made it impossible to understand who’s winning. 

 

 

Looking a bit to the left, he saw the group Marina just joined. A lanky woman and a short man, both of whom he’d briefly seen on the train. Samarie, the remarkable dark mage who Nas’hrah advised caution against, had the biggest smile on her face as Marina leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Levi, previously a pitiful sight, managed to smile when the occultist turned and did the same to him.

 

 

… Multiple times, on multiple spots, causing his eyes to go wide. 

 

 

He can’t deny he’s mildly entertained by the public display of affection. Levi, clearly flushed, has pink lipstick marks all over his face. 

 

 

Something about it prompts him to put the book aside and turn his attention to his lover.

 

 

"Daniel."

 

 

"Hm?" 

 

 

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

 

 

Daan's single eye stares back at him, as expressive as a cloudy sky. 

 

 

"Yes, I do." 

 

 

With no further questions, he leans in, a hand carefully holding his companion's face. Their lips join for a few seconds of soft peace, with the slowness of it feeling natural and comforting. 

 

 

Kissing him is… heartwarming. Not in the wildfire way that's ingrained into common sense, but in the cozy way that would usually prompt rejection inside O'saa's brain. What an odd emotion, coming from a long dead heart. 

 

 

Being the target of a gaze both thoughtful and endearing, Daan rests his head against the hand now touching his cheek. 

 

 

"... Are your hands always this warm or is it Vinushka's magic?" 

 

 

He kisses the doctor on the forehead. "Both."

 

 

A familiar voice echoes in his mind. 

 

 

"You fucking maggot. You could've had everything, EVERYTHING you wished for! But instead you chose this TWIG who wouldn't take HALF your di-"

 

 

He throws Nashrah's head in the general direction of the ocean. They're too far, so it lands on Tanaka's head and knocks him out cold on the ground. The angry screams of the beheaded wizard are far away enough to be ignored. 

 

 

Daan is not startled. "Was he spouting indecencies again?"

 

 

"Yes. Nothing productive."

 

 

"I'd prefer you don't elaborate. Can you kiss me instead?"

 

 

"M-hm." he obliges with a satisfied smile, kissing him on the lips once more. "Didn't take you for the hands on type, doctor." 

 

 

"And I didn’t take you for such a caring lover.” he smiles back, charmed. “Not complaining, by the way.”

 

 

“ALLL-MER HELP ME, HE’S NOT BREATHING!” Abella yells. “ANYONE KNOWS CPR?!”

 

 

All eyes turn to the two of them smooching under the parasol. Daan sighs, begrudgingly touching his hand to take it away. 

 

 

He flinches in the sunlight like a vampire, but runs to help the unconscious salaryman regardless. O’saa finds the sight… charming. The type that gets a smile to his lips. 

 

 

Is this what “properly enjoying leisure time” means? Observing the movements of others like a gossipy neighbor? Watching his unlicensed doctor partner in action? 

 

 

Maybe it is, and there’s nothing wrong with that? 

 

 

Nothing too specific has changed, yet a process definitely occurred.