After barely five minutes of trudging through the blazing equatorial heat, Gemini had reached her limit. The merciless sun beat down on the exposed coastal path like a physical weight, turning the air itself into a shimmering furnace that made everyone's tempers flare along with the temperature.
Gemini suddenly snapped her fingers with inspiration. "Steve, stop."
Right there in front of everyone, she dove into the expandable trunk and emerged triumphant, wielding an enormous parasol that looked identical to the ones used by street vendors in yesterday's marketplace.
Tony stared in bewilderment. "You bought a circus tent? What were you thinking?"
Gemini grinned with the satisfaction of superior planning. "We're a group of eight people heading to a tropical beach. I figured shade might be useful. Exhibit A—" she gestured at their current predicament, "—immediate vindication of my foresight."
Tony eyed the massive umbrella dubiously. "That thing's going to require Banner's other personality to hold up, isn't it?"
Steve secured the trunk on his arm and gripped the parasol's handle with both hands. With a smooth, powerful motion, he deployed the canopy toward an empty stretch of beach. The umbrella bloomed open like a giant flower, revealing itself to be less parasol and more portable pavilion—when Steve lifted it overhead, the shadow beneath covered nearly ten square meters of blessed relief.
"Problem solved," Steve announced, effortlessly supporting what had to be a considerable weight while shielding the entire group from the punishing sun.
Everyone stared at him in amazement. Tony shook his head in wonder. "Your name really wasn't chosen randomly, was it? Captain America would probably handle this exactly the same way."
Steve chuckled, the sound warm and genuinely amused. "I'd like to think so."
Gemini studiously avoided eye contact, focusing intently on the distant Japanese marketplace. How exactly was she supposed to respond to that observation? Actually, funny you should mention that...
Another fifteen minutes of walking brought them to their destination—a cluster of traditional Japanese buildings that seemed to have been transplanted directly from a historical drama. Low wooden structures with paper screens, curved tile roofs, and an atmosphere of deliberate minimalism that felt almost austere after the magnificent grandeur of the Chinese marketplace.
The Japanese aesthetic did spark initial curiosity—there was undeniable elegance in the clean lines and careful proportions. But after experiencing the soaring architecture and vibrant energy of the Central Land Daoist Sect's creation, these modest buildings felt disappointingly... small.
More troubling were the kimono-clad serving girls kneeling in formal welcome positions at various entrances. The sight made every woman in their group visibly uncomfortable.
"That's..." May began, then stopped, clearly struggling with cultural sensitivity versus personal discomfort.
"Deeply problematic," Pepper finished quietly. "I don't care what the traditional justification is."
The marketplace offered the expected array of souvenirs and food vendors, but the selection felt limited compared to yesterday's abundance. They sampled a few items—yakitori that was admittedly delicious, mochi that Peter declared "weird but good"—but the overall experience lacked the magical wonder of the Chinese district.
Tony was characteristically blunt in his assessment. "I'm sure sashimi has its devotees, but human civilization developed cooking for excellent reasons. I didn't evolve opposable thumbs just to eat like a caveman with better presentation."
Pepper elbowed him sharply. "Tony. Cultural respect. We discussed this."
"I'm being respectful," he protested. "I'm not saying it's wrong, just that it's not for me."
Recognizing that the marketplace held limited appeal, Gemini led them directly toward the beach proper. At least the Japanese organizers had provided adequate changing facilities—a row of traditional wooden huts that, while small, were clean and functional.
Steve surveyed the beach with tactical precision, identifying the optimal position for their base camp. He planted the massive parasol in the sand with the efficiency of someone who'd set up countless military encampments, then began transforming Gemini's seemingly bottomless trunk into a beach resort.
Out came a waterproof blanket that he spread with military corners. Then drinks, snacks, towels, sunscreen, and what appeared to be a complete first aid kit.
"Gemini," Tony said with genuine admiration as he emerged from the changing hut, "your preparation skills are legitimately terrifying. This is like Mary Poppins meets survivalist training."
He grabbed a drink and took a swig, then immediately made a face. "Warm. Of course it's warm."
Steve looked at him with the patience of someone accustomed to high-maintenance teammates. "We're on a tropical beach, Tony. Refrigeration wasn't exactly an option."
Tony drew his wand from its forearm holster with theatrical flair. "Glacius Minor," he incanted, directing a Cooling Charm at their beverage supply. Ice crystals formed instantly on the bottles' surfaces.
"Technology," he declared smugly, taking another drink. "Magical technology, but still technology. Though I have to say, the Japanese organizers' complete lack of refreshment vendors is a serious oversight."
"Traditional wizards wouldn't be caught dead at a beach," Gemini observed, emerging from her changing hut in an elegant black one-piece with lace detailing. "They consider public swimming undignified. Too much exposed skin, too much fun, too much... humanity."
Peter bounced on his toes, eyeing the other children playing in the surf. "Can I go play with them? Please? I promise I'll be careful!"
Tony surveyed the scene—families building sandcastles, children splashing in the shallows, teenagers playing beach volleyball. Normal, happy, innocent fun.
"Absolutely," he decided. "In fact, I'm coming with you. When's the next time I'll get to act like a kid without board meetings to worry about?"
The two of them raced toward the water with identical expressions of pure joy, leaving Gemini shaking her head in fond exasperation. Tony Stark, billionaire genius philanthropist, reduced to gleeful childhood by the prospect of splashing in the ocean.
The next hour passed in blissful relaxation. Banner remained contentedly under the parasol, reading a book he'd acquired at the Chinese marketplace. The others gradually migrated to the water's edge, where Gemini discovered that beach magic was its own particular joy.
She stood ankle-deep in the surf, using her wand to lift spiraling columns of seawater into the air, shaping them into dragons and phoenixes that danced through the spray before dissolving back into the waves. Tony retaliated by creating ice sculptures that he launched like projectiles, leading to an escalating magical water fight that drew appreciative applause from nearby Muggle families.
Steve proved surprisingly playful once he relaxed, using his enhanced strength to create massive splash effects that sent Peter into fits of delighted laughter. May and Ben waded in more cautiously, but even they were soon caught up in the infectious joy of the moment.
It was Peter's sudden shout that shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
"Hey! Stop that! Leave him alone!"
Gemini looked up from her latest water sculpture to see Peter standing protectively in front of a small Chinese boy who couldn't have been more than six or seven. The child was crying, his carefully constructed sandcastle reduced to scattered ruins.
Facing them were four Japanese boys, probably around Peter's age, dressed in expensive yukata and wearing expressions of aristocratic disdain that Gemini recognized all too well from her Slytherin years.
But this wasn't Hogwarts, and these weren't pure-blood supremacists playing at superiority. This was something uglier.
Gemini strode out of the surf, her wand already in her hand. "What happened, Peter?"
"We were building castles together," Peter explained, his voice tight with controlled anger. "These guys came over and deliberately destroyed everything, then pushed Yangyang when he tried to stop them."
The Japanese boys began speaking rapidly in their native language, their tone making their contempt crystal clear even without translation. Gemini didn't need to understand the words—she'd heard that particular brand of entitled cruelty in enough languages to recognize it anywhere.
Tony arrived beside her, his expression darkening as he caught fragments of the conversation. His Japanese was rusty, but functional enough to understand the general thrust of their comments.
"They're not just being rude," he said quietly. "They're being racist. Specifically and deliberately racist."
The crying child's distress attracted attention from nearby beachgoers—specifically, a group of Chinese men who were obviously the boy's family. They approached with the protective urgency of parents responding to their child's tears.
"Yangyang! What's wrong? Who hurt you?" The largest man, built like a construction worker and radiating paternal fury, scooped up the sobbing child.
"Daddy! The Japanese boys destroyed our castle and pushed me! The foreign boy tried to help, but they were going to hit me!"
The Chinese men's expressions shifted from concern to anger as they took in the scene—their weeping child, the destroyed sandcastle, the Japanese boys' obvious lack of remorse.
"Where are their parents?" one of them demanded, looking around for adult supervision. "Someone needs to control these brats!"
That's when one of the Japanese boys made his fatal mistake. Looking directly at the Chinese men, he spoke a single word with deliberate, calculated malice:
"Shina."
Gemini didn't recognize the term, but its effect was immediate and explosive. Every Chinese man present went rigid with fury, their faces flushing with rage so intense it was almost palpable.
"What did you just say?" The largest man stepped forward, fists clenched, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Say that again, you little bastard. I dare you."
The other men moved to restrain him, but their own anger was equally obvious. "Don't let him provoke you," one urged. "He's just a child. Get his parents. Make them deal with this."
Gemini didn't need a translation to understand that whatever word had been used, it was the equivalent of a racial slur. The Japanese boys' expressions of smug satisfaction confirmed her suspicions.
But she'd also noticed something the Chinese men hadn't—one of the Japanese boys had his hand inside his yukata, and she'd caught the telltale shimmer of magical energy being prepared.
These weren't just ordinary children being cruel. They were young wizards, and they were preparing to use magic against Muggles.
Gemini stepped forward, placing herself directly between the Japanese boys and everyone else. Her wand was steady in her hand, pointed with unmistakable intent.
"Apologize," she said, her voice carrying the kind of quiet authority that made Slytherins step back and Gryffindors pay attention. "Now."
The Japanese boys hesitated, clearly recognizing her as a witch but uncertain how to proceed. They'd been prepared to intimidate Muggles, not face another magical practitioner.
Gemini let magic crackle visibly around her wand tip—not enough to cast anything, but sufficient to demonstrate that she was both willing and able to escalate the situation.
"I said apologize," she repeated, her tone dropping to something that would have made Professor Snape proud. "To the child you hurt, to his family, and to my friend. Do it now, or discover exactly how creative British magical education can be when it comes to non-lethal but highly unpleasant hexes."
The standoff stretched taut as a bowstring, with Muggle families beginning to notice the tension and magical energies building on both sides.
This was about to become exactly the kind of international incident that Gemini had hoped to avoid.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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