Chapter 43: Solar Radiation Protocols

Paradise was a lie wrapped in salt air and false promises.

Morning sunlight stabbed through my window like divine punishment. I’d barely slept, mind racing through worst-case scenarios that somehow managed to undersell reality. Now I stood on the beach in swim trunks, feeling exposed and vulnerable and deeply aware that today would be worse than anything my anxiety could conjure.​

Ryuuji was already down there doing calisthenics. Push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely enjoyed physical fitness. His body moved with practiced ease, muscles defined from whatever expensive personal training his family provided.

I tried joining in. Maybe exercise would calm my nerves. Maybe moving would distract from the impending nightmare.

Three jumping jacks in, my phone exploded in the small bag I’d left on my towel.

The vibration was aggressive, angry, demanding immediate attention. I stumbled mid-jump, nearly face-planting in the sand. Ryuuji paused his routine, concern crossing his features.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just my phone. One sec.”

I grabbed it with shaking hands, already knowing the notification would be terrible.

【CRITICAL WARNING】
ASSET EXPOSURE: UV RADIATION】
DAMAGE POTENTIAL: SEVERE】
OWNERS REQUIRE PROTECTIVE LAYER】
DEPLOY IMMEDIATELY】
FAILURE TO COMPLY: +300 CP DEBT】

Owners. It called Seda and Elizabeth my owners. Not friends, not companions, owners like I was property requiring maintenance.​

The UV protection directive from last night. I’d hoped they were joking. Wishful thinking at its most pathetic.

Movement caught my eye up near the villa.

Two figures emerged onto the deck. Silhouettes backlit by morning sun, descending the stairs to beach level with coordinated timing that screamed rehearsed entrance.

Seda appeared first and my brain immediately short-circuited.

Red swimsuit. Barely qualified as clothing. Two pieces of fabric held together by what looked like string and prayer. The design was strategic, calculated, weaponized femininity aimed directly at my fragile composure. Every curve highlighted, every angle optimized for maximum psychological damage.​

I looked at the sky. Clouds. Safe. No dangerous thoughts about clouds.

Elizabeth followed and the sky wasn’t safe anymore because my peripheral vision was a traitor.

Black two-piece. Somehow more devastating through sheer contrast. Where Seda’s suit screamed attention, Elizabeth’s demanded it quietly. Elegant, fitted, professional-grade psychological warfare disguised as beachwear.​

I focused on the sand. Grains of silicon dioxide. Crushed shells. Geologically fascinating. Completely neutral subject matter.

They approached with measured steps, flip-flops leaving prints in wet sand. Both wore sunglasses that hid their eyes but not the small smiles playing at their lips. They knew exactly what they were doing. This was planned, coordinated, executed with military precision.​

Seda stopped three feet away, close enough that I could smell coconut sunscreen already applied to her skin.

“Morning. Beautiful day for UV exposure.”

Her voice came out casual, conversational, like she wasn’t standing there in an outfit designed to violate my sanity.

Elizabeth held up a bottle. Not regular sunscreen. This was the expensive stuff. SPF one hundred, water-resistant, the kind that came in luxury packaging and cost more than my weekly food budget.

“Asset maintenance required. You received the directive.”

“I can’t. This is insane. Ryuuji’s right there.”

I gestured desperately at my friend, who’d resumed his exercises a polite distance away. He wasn’t paying attention, focused on his routine, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding.

Seda removed her sunglasses, eyes locking onto mine with predatory focus.

“The App doesn’t care about witnesses. Apply the protective layer or accumulate debt. Your choice.”

Not a choice. Never a choice. Just the illusion of agency before inevitable compliance.​

Elizabeth placed the bottle in my hand. The plastic was warm from sitting in the sun, contents sloshing with thick viscosity. High-grade oil-based formula. The kind that would require thorough, careful application.

My hand trembled holding it. This was happening. Actually happening. No escape route, no clever excuse, no dying goldfish to save me.​

“Back first. Efficient coverage requires systematic approach.”

Elizabeth turned around, presenting her back like this was totally normal. Professional. A medical procedure requiring detached clinical execution.

I unscrewed the cap with fingers that barely cooperated. The sunscreen smelled like coconut and impending psychological breakdown. Thick, creamy consistency that would definitely require spreading. Lots of spreading.

I squeezed a small amount onto my fingertips. Minimal contact. Quick application. In and out like a surgical strike.

“Use your whole palm. Even distribution requires proper surface area contact.”

Seda’s voice came from beside me, critiquing my technique before I’d even started.

I added more sunscreen to my palm. The texture was unsettling. Slick, smooth, coating my skin with oily residue. My hand hovered near Elizabeth’s shoulder blade, building courage for contact.

Just do it. Fast and clinical. Think about literally anything else.

My palm made contact with her skin.

Warm. Smooth. The sunscreen spread under my hand, creating friction that sent electric signals straight to my panicking brain. I moved quickly, trying to cover area efficiently, professionally, with zero inappropriate thoughts.

“Slower. You’re missing sections.”

Elizabeth’s voice came calm and analytical. Project manager energy applied to sunscreen distribution.

I slowed down, hand moving in careful circles. The sunscreen absorbed gradually, leaving slick residue that required multiple passes. Each movement meant prolonged contact, sustained awareness of exactly what I was touching.

Sky. Look at the sky. Clouds shaped like animals. That one looks like a rabbit. Focus on the rabbit cloud.

“Left shoulder. Coordinates X-seven, Y-twelve. Inadequate coverage.”

She was using grid references. Treating her own back like a tactical map requiring complete surveying.

I found the spot, adding more sunscreen, working it in with thoroughness born from desperate need to finish this torture. My palm slid across her shoulders, down her spine, spreading the protective layer with mechanical precision.

Crabs. Think about crabs. Crustaceans with exoskeletons. Fascinating marine biology. Completely non-arousing subject matter.

“Done.”

The word came out strangled. I stepped back, putting distance between us, trying to ignore how my hand still tingled from contact.

“My turn.”

Seda moved into position, presenting her back with the same clinical expectation. No embarrassment, no hesitation, just calm acceptance of this insane situation as normal procedure.​

I reloaded my palm with sunscreen. More this time, learning from experience. The bottle was half-empty already. How much surface area could two people possibly have?

Contact. Skin on skin with only thin oil layer between. Seda’s back was different from Elizabeth’s. More muscle definition, warmth radiating through the sunscreen, small movements as she breathed that I felt through my palm.

The ocean. Think about the ocean. Waves caused by tidal forces. Moon’s gravitational pull. Neptune’s distance from the sun.

“Don’t be shy. Full coverage required.”

Her voice held amusement now, that robotic clinical tone cracking to reveal the girl underneath who was absolutely enjoying my suffering.​

I worked the sunscreen across her shoulders, down her spine, trying to maintain detachment while my nervous system staged a full rebellion. The texture between my palm and her skin created sensations I had zero framework to process. Smooth, warm, intimate in ways that made my face burn hotter than any UV radiation could manage.

My technique had improved through necessity. Even strokes, proper pressure, systematic coverage that would’ve made Elizabeth’s grid system proud. But improvement meant taking longer, meant sustained contact, meant more time hyperaware of exactly what I was doing.

Seagulls. Count seagulls. One seagull, two seagulls, three seagulls screeching overhead.

“Lower back. You missed a section.”

Seda’s instruction made my hand freeze mid-motion. Lower back meant approaching dangerous territory. Meant contact closer to the swimsuit line than my sanity could handle.

I added more sunscreen, hand moving to the specified area with all the enthusiasm of someone approaching a live explosive. Quick dabs, rapid coverage, professional detachment crumbling with every passing second.

Sweat dripped down my face despite the morning being relatively cool. My heart hammered against my ribs. This was worse than the thermal regulation protocol. Worse than the storage room incident. Worse than every previous nightmare combined because this was happening in broad daylight on a public beach with my friend twenty feet away.​

“Done. Finished. Complete coverage achieved.”

I practically threw myself backward, creating maximum distance, holding up oil-slicked hands like evidence of crime completion.

Both girls turned to face me, casual and collected and completely unbothered by what had just transpired. Their expressions screamed “perfectly normal medical procedure” while my face probably screamed “barely surviving psychological warfare.”

“Efficient work. UV protection successfully deployed.”

Elizabeth’s approval felt like a trap. Nothing good ever followed their satisfaction.​

I grabbed my towel, wiping sunscreen from my hands with aggressive scrubbing. The texture lingered, oily residue that required serious effort to remove. My palms still tingled with phantom sensation.

Safe. I was safe now. Mission complete. No more mandatory touching, no more intimate maintenance protocols, no more—

“Hey Alfred!”

Ryuuji’s voice cut through my relief like a chainsaw through tissue paper.

He jogged over, glistening with sweat from his workout, looking annoyingly fit and happy. His skin gleamed under sunlight, clearly unprotected, definitely requiring application of preventative measures.

“Can you get my back too? Sunscreen’s impossible to reach solo.”

He held out his own bottle, smile genuine and friendly and completely ignorant of the danger he was invoking.

Time stopped. The universe held its breath. Every molecule of air froze in place.

I felt rather than saw the shift in atmosphere. Dark presence materializing on both sides. Seda and Elizabeth had gone still, predator-still, the kind of motionless that preceded violent action.​

My phone vibrated once. Sharp. Aggressive. Final.

I didn’t need to check it. Knew exactly what notification had arrived. But my eyes betrayed me, glancing at the screen anyway.

【JEALOUSY PENALTY ACTIVATED】
UNAUTHORIZED CONTACT REQUEST】
ASSET DIVERSION DETECTED】
DEBT INCREASE: +500 CP】
CORRECTIVE MEASURES: PENDING】

Five hundred points for a innocent request. Five hundred points because my friend wanted help with sunscreen. Five hundred points for existing near other people who showed basic human kindness.​

Seda’s hand landed on my shoulder, grip firm enough to leave impressions.

“Actually, we’ll handle Ryuuji’s sunscreen. Asset hands are needed elsewhere.”

Her voice carried an edge that could cut steel. Smile still in place but eyes promising consequences if I moved.

Elizabeth materialized on my other side, boxing me in completely.

“Asset maintenance isn’t complete. Additional procedures required. Come.”

Not a request. A command. Compliance mandatory, resistance futile, escape impossible.

Ryuuji looked between us, confusion starting to show through his oblivious cheerfulness.

“Oh, it’s cool. I can just ask someone else or—”

“We’ll handle it. You’re a guest. Guests receive hospitality.”

Seda’s words sounded pleasant, friendly even. But the undertone screamed territorial possession, warning signs bright enough that even Ryuuji’s dense social awareness might register them.​

My phone continued vibrating, penalty notifications stacking up, debt accumulating for crimes I hadn’t committed. Just standing here, caught between my friend’s innocent request and my captors’ possessive fury, was apparently worth hundreds of CP in violation fees.​

The bottle of sunscreen sat in Ryuuji’s extended hand, innocent and damning, representing everything wrong with this vacation.

I’d escaped nothing. Found no safe zone. Just traded one prison for another, this one decorated with ocean views and false freedom.​

Elizabeth’s fingers dug into my shoulder, steering me away from Ryuuji, back toward the villa, away from witnesses to whatever corrective measures they’d planned.

The sun climbed higher, heating the sand, promising a beautiful beach day that I wouldn’t get to enjoy.

Paradise remained a lie, and I was still drowning in it.