Morning in Okinawa arrived with the specific enthusiasm of a place that took its sunshine seriously.
By nine AM the pool area had the warm, salt-tinged energy of a resort fully committed to its purpose. Sunlight on water. The sound of the ocean just beyond the palms. The kind of morning that made problems feel temporarily further away than they actually were.
The group arrived in stages.
Riku first — already in the pool before anyone else appeared, having apparently woken up at seven with the energy of a man who had been waiting his whole life for a resort pool.
Kenji arrived with snacks. At nine AM. Nobody commented.
Then the girls.
Hana came running in her swimsuit — bright yellow, the kind of choice that made complete sense for a seven-year-old — and launched herself into the pool with the commitment of someone who had been planning this since the van.
Saki followed at a dignified pace. Adjusted her goggles. Entered the pool correctly.
