Chapter 22.B: The Stage of the Sea
The resort’s private beach in the middle of the afternoon. The Quy Nhon sun was no longer golden, it had turned a harsh white, pouring down on the fine sand and turning the sea into a giant, dazzling silver mirror. The air was thick with the smell of salt, sunscreen and burnt skin. The sound of the waves was steady and patient. In the distance, a group of young people in the group were shouting and playing volleyball, their laughter broken and then swallowed by the sound of the waves, creating a scene full of life but also a bit lonely.
Minh was the center of the volleyball match, true to form. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of lime green swimming trunks, revealing a body that wasn’t too muscular but toned and tanned. He kept shouting and giving instructions, occasionally glancing toward the villa entrance, an undisguised impatience.
Tung did not join in. He stood at the water’s edge, where the waves lapped at his feet, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore only gray trekking shorts, his bare upper body showing a mass of hard, sweaty muscles. He was like a sentinel, silent and steady, his eyes also turned towards the villa.
Quan, on the other hand, chose the perfect spot – under the shade of a large umbrella, on a bean bag chair. He was still wearing his white linen shirt, but he had rolled up the sleeves and left the top few buttons undone, exposing his lean chest. He was wearing sunglasses and holding a book in his hand, but no one could tell if he was actually reading.
Long “Thich Du Thu” and Hung “6 Mui Sau Rieng” were also at the game, but their focus was not on the ball. They kept looking around, commenting on the young girls in colorful bikinis posing for photos.
And then she appeared.
Ngan was in no hurry. She walked out of the villa, walking slowly on the hot sand. She was not wearing a bikini. She chose a jet black one-piece swimsuit, a seemingly modest choice but a declaration of war against all the two-piece bikinis around her.
The volleyball game stopped abruptly. The laughter died down. All eyes, unconsciously, turned to her.
The crowd was witnessing a cruel contrast. The other girls, young, pretty, possessed of the standard slim bodies. But Ngan’s body belonged to another world. It was not slim. It was a proper woman’s body, with the weight of curves. The black one-piece swimsuit did not hide, on the contrary, it was like a coat of varnish, highlighting every sculpted line of her body. It pressed tightly against her full breasts, creating a deep cleavage more inviting than any bikini. It cinched at the toned waist before expanding into a pair of firm, rounded hips. The fabric was cut high on the thigh, lengthening her legs endlessly and, more importantly, it revealed a small tattoo on her right buttock—a few delicate lines that no one could see what it was, only that it was a secret.
“Fuck,” Long “Likes Everything” blurted out, forgetting to catch the ball. “Ms. Ngan’s body… is not to be trifled with.”
Hung “6 Pack”, who always prided himself on his body, also had to swallow. “Those girls are soda,” he whispered to Long. “And this is wine. You have to know how to enjoy it.”
Ngan seemed oblivious to the attention. She removed her thin scarf, revealing a tattoo of thin, thread-like words running along her shoulder blade. She stretched, an unintentional movement that stretched the entire curve of her body, an unintentional and deadly display.
That appearance and those comments were a signal shot. The battle for attention began, not with words, but with actions.
Tung was the first to act. Seeing Long and Hung’s eyes fixed on Ngan, Tung’s jaw clenched. He said nothing, just silently walked to the storage area, grabbed a large towel, and walked straight towards Ngan. He walked steadily, his muscles rippling under the sun, like a moving wall between her and the curious eyes.
“It’s so sunny, put this on so you don’t burn your skin.”
Minh saw Tung’s action and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t let that “little brother” score. He abandoned the game and darted towards the beach bar. A few seconds later, he returned, holding a freshly chopped coconut with a straw in it. He ran towards it, deliberately making a ruckus.
“Foster sister! Foster sister! Drink some coconut water to cool down! This hot weather will ruin your beautiful skin! Mine is the freshest and most delicious!”
From the shade, Quan lowered the book a little. He smiled. It was a perfect play. The silent protector and the loud possessor. Both used care as weapons, but one was subtle, the other direct. Interesting.
Ngan was now sandwiched between the two of them. On the left was Tung with the towel. On the right was Minh with the coconut.
Ngan looked at Tung, then at Minh. A smile slowly spread across her lips. She was not confused.
She turned to Minh first, taking the coconut. “Thanks, you’re always so thoughtful.” She took a small sip, a recognition that made Minh grin triumphantly.
Then she turned to Tung and took the scarf. But she didn’t put it on herself. She just draped it over her shoulder indifferently. “Thank you, little brother. I’ll use it when it gets cold on the shore.” An acceptance, but also a tactful refusal of the role of “protector”.
After the “diplomacy” was over, she didn’t stand there anymore. She smiled at them both, then turned and ran straight towards the sea. She didn’t run like the other girls. There was a weight to her running, a powerful sway of her hips that no one could take their eyes off. She ran straight into a white-capped wave.
The cold seawater suddenly enveloped her hot body. When she surfaced, her long, wet hair clung to her back. Her black swimsuit clung to her skin even more provocatively than when dry.
Tung and Minh froze for a second, then like two sharks smelling blood, they both dove into the sea, following her. The battle on land was over. A new, wetter and more intimate battle began in the clear blue water. Far away, on the shore, Quan closed his book. He stood up, slowly taking off his shirt. The play had become too interesting to sit still and be an audience.