Winter in Hokkaido is a bit like a cruel joke played by nature. People say it's a magical place, but if by "magical" you mean somewhere it snows for six months straight and the temperatures make you question every life decision you've ever made, then yes, it's magical. Welcome to a world where people can't tell if they're here to ski or to test the limits of their toes against extreme frostbite.

Hokkaido is the kingdom of winter sports, but it's also the ultimate training ground for convincing yourself that everything beyond your front door is nothing but icy winds and endless snowfalls. Want a challenge? Try getting dressed in the morning without looking like a walking rug. But let's be real: no one here has the courage to go outside. Even the wind seems to whisper that you'd be better off staying under the covers.

Kamiru Haru was comfortably sprawled on his bed, his head buried in his pillow as if it were his only true ally in the war against his family's expectations. His room was a shrine to winter sports: posters of competitions, ski-shaped trinkets, and medals that gleamed with all their might, like relics of a life he had never wanted to live.

"I'm a miscast in a movie that should never have been made." That was his first thought every morning.

And how could he not feel that way? His father: a snowboarding legend. His mother: an alpine skiing champion. His brother: a freestyle prodigy. And him? Kamiru, the guy who falls flat on his face the moment he steps onto the snow. He might as well have had two left feet and a leg in a cast; it wouldn't have made a difference.

Okay, fine, maybe I don't like snow. And maybe I suck at winter sports. But… there's a place where I can just be… me. And that place is Okinawa.

Kamiru had it all planned. A warm destination, a life far from snow, and most importantly… studies. The idea of thriving in something where he didn't risk breaking a bone was far more appealing. Okinawa was the polar opposite of Hokkaido: no snow, no ski competitions—just beaches, sunshine, and people who never questioned their athletic abilities. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally breathe without worrying about his nose freezing solid.

At Okinawa Airport, Kamiru stepped off the plane like a castaway who'd stumbled upon a paradise. Warm air and the scent of the ocean engulfed him, a refreshing change from the smell of melting snow and exhaust fumes back in Hokkaido. Finally, a little peace.

In the crowd, a man stood out: tall, with a laid-back smile, tanned skin, and buzz-cut hair that matched the brown of his swim trunks. He was wearing sunglasses, despite it being 10 a.m.

"Kamiru! Made it in one piece, huh? Welcome to Okinawa," his uncle greeted him, patting his shoulder like an old friend. He exuded an aura of someone who truly understood how to live. He smelled of the ocean and easygoing vibes—a stark contrast to the icy hallways of Kamiru's family home, where a mountain of frost always seemed to pile up against the door.

Uncle "Welcome home, kid. Get ready to see life from a whole new angle."

Kamiru smiled, as if he'd finally found his way out of his snowy labyrinth. Okinawa… this was going to be the real deal.

He followed his uncle toward the airport exit, completely unaware of just how interesting this new adventure was about to get.