"Haru! You can't keep doing this--what if a clerk sees? Is that even comfortable? Ah, never mind! Come on, here--" There's a delicate splash, cloth raking water while the speaker flicks constant, nervy glances over both shoulders. "Hurry up and get back into these and we'll go, we've already paid for everything else, so--"

"Makoto."

"What now?"

"They're sinking into the water."

"You're wet anyway!" His brows cinch, his mouth a moue, all pleading. "You can wring them out, can't you?"

Haru levels him with a look. "Not with a fish," he remarks placidly, "swimming up through the left leg."