SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

They returned to Mariven Port the next day with the others.

Xavier had agreed far too quickly when Trafalgar brought it up, which alone had been enough to make it feel like a mistake. Bartholomew only came because Cynthia decided he was coming, and once she said that, there had been little point in pretending he had a choice. Zafira arrived in a much better mood than the night before, even if she tried to hide how quickly it returned. By the time the five of them reached the beach, the sun was high and the sea had taken on that bright, almost blinding color only deep water managed under good weather.

They did not stay near the crowded parts.

Xavier was the one who insisted on that first. According to him, if they were going to waste a day at the beach, they might as well do it somewhere people were less annoying. Trafalgar agreed for once without argument, and after a short walk along the coast, they found a quieter stretch of sand with enough distance from the rest of Mariven’s visitors to be left alone.

”This is good,” Trafalgar said.

Xavier dropped their things onto the sand with a grunt. ”Of course it is. I picked it.”

”You pointed at the first empty place you saw.”

”That is called efficiency.”

Bartholomew gave a small, helpless smile and crouched to set down the bag he had been carrying. Cynthia stood beside him, brushing a strand of hair away from her face while the sea breeze played with it again a second later.

”It is quiet,” she said. ”That alone makes it better than the main beach.”

Zafira glanced across the shoreline, satisfied. ”At least no one here is screaming.”

Xavier put a hand over his chest. ”You say that like you do not enjoy hearing the joy of the people.”

”I do not.

”Cold.”

Trafalgar let them talk while he looked out at the water. The air smelled cleaner here. Salt, heat, and the faint scent of algae carried by the tide. Mariven Port had managed to look like an ordinary vacation spot again, which felt almost insulting after the night before.

’What a difference between today and yesterday, he thought.

They laid their towels out across the sand and unpacked the rest in no real order. Xavier was already halfway through taking his shirt off before Bartholomew had even fully processed that they were truly doing this.

The problem started a few minutes later, when the girls returned after changing.

Bartholomew nearly choked on nothing.

Cynthia had chosen something simple, dark, and practical, though it still made clear what she usually hid under uniform and jacket. Her skin carried a warmer tone than Zafira’s, more touched by sun, and her build was leaner, more athletic, with the compact strength of someone who actually trained instead of merely talking about it. She noticed Trafalgar looking a fraction longer than necessary and adjusted a strap near her shoulder.

”Well?” she asked, trying to sound casual and missing by just enough. ”Do not just stand there.”

Zafira stepped out right after her, and even Xavier shut up for half a second.

Her skin looked pale, almost milky beneath the light, and the contrast with the black fabric only made it more obvious. The bikini suited her far better than she had probably expected, and it did very little to hide the fact that her chest drew attention before the rest of her did. Long purple hair fell loose over her shoulders, moving softly in the wind, while her expression told the world she would kill the first person who turned this into a spectacle.

She folded her arms.

”Well, Trafalgar?”

He looked from one to the other, fully aware that any wrong answer here would be exhausting.

”You both look good,” he said.

Xavier barked out a laugh. ”Coward.”

”It was the correct answer,” Trafalgar replied.

”It was the safest answer”

”That too.”

Cynthia looked away, though not before a faint trace of satisfaction crossed her face. Zafira lifted her chin a little, clearly pleased even if she would never say it

aloud.

Beside them, Bartholomew leaned a little toward his sister and lowered his

voice.

”Isn’t that bikini a little bold...?”

Cynthia answered without looking at him.

”I wanted to try something new...”

Bartholomew did not know what to say to that, so he looked away toward the sea instead, ears slightly red. Xavier, for once, said nothing. Trafalgar simply kept the ball in one hand, turning it once before tossing it lightly into the air. A few minutes later, they were already playing near the shore. The game started without much order and stayed that way. Xavier threw himself into it exactly as expected, loud, direct, and impossible to ignore. Cynthia was quicker than she looked at first glance, moving across the sand with the compact ease of someone used to training her body properly. Zafira did not waste movement. Even here, with the sea behind her and sunlight across her skin, there was something measured in the way she stepped, turned, and sent the ball back.

Bartholomew struggled more than the rest at the beginning, mostly because he kept thinking before moving, but little by little he loosened up. Enough that he stopped looking like someone dragged here against his will. Trafalgar did not say much through any of it. Xavier had enough energy for everyone, and the others answered whenever they felt like it. That was enough. The afternoon moved without weight pressing over it, with only the sun, the sea, the warmth of the sand, and the ball moving from one side to the other while the hours opened quietly around them.

By the time they stopped, the tide had crept a little closer.

Xavier dropped onto the sand first, breathing harder than anyone else despite acting as if he had won the whole thing alone. Cynthia brushed the sand from her legs. Zafira moved nearer to the water, clearly more interested in the sea than in standing around any longer. Bartholomew remained close to his sister, looser than before, though some of that usual caution still clung to him. Trafalgar stayed a short distance behind them and let the breeze from the sea wash over him.

’So this is what a quiet day looks like!

It felt stranger than it should have.

Xavier pushed himself up on one arm and turned toward the water.

”We should go in now.”

No one argued.

The sea rolled in and out in long, bright lines beneath the afternoon light, calm

enough to make that stretch of coast feel removed from the rest of Mariven Port. For the first time since they had arrived, the day finally resembled what it

had been meant to be.

They started walking toward the water together.