Nobita sprawled across his bedroom floor, nose buried in a comic bursting with mermaids and buried gold. “Ugh, if I could just bail on this lame spot and flop in some ocean-deep hotel,” he groaned, foot flailing at thin air. School was a total bummer—Gian claiming the swings like he owned ’em, Suneo yapping about his pop’s “fancy beach shack,” and Nobita? Left doodling finny babes while the gang hashed out actual plans. “Shizuka’s heading to the coast again… and I’m stuck here.” It bit worse than a bad scrape.
Doraemon, midway through a dorayaki, snuck a peek. “Sea hotel? Kinda iffy, but yeah, I can hook you up.” He yanked the Sub Bubble Builder from his belly bag—a chunky remote lookalike, buttons for “drop deep,” “chow,” and “chill mode.” “Hit a spot, spin the knob, and wham—your glass hideaway below the surface. Think seaweed scrubs and shark waiters.” Nobita lunged for it, face splitting in a grin. “Blue beast, you’re a lifesaver! Shizuka’s gonna flip.”
They hit the nearby park pond—serene, sludgy, spot-on for a dry run. Nobita zeroed in on a shallow dip and mashed “full submersion.” Hiss, bubble, and the water frothed wild like spilled fizzy drink. Pop—a glossy orb punched from the muck, blooming into a clear-walled stunner: snaking passages like shells, bobbing glow-jellies, fancy dining nook with setups for pairs beneath twinkly sea fans. “Fish nuggets—it’s for real!” Nobita hollered, splashing in with Doraemon. Air inside cooled nice, minnows tapping glass like pushy peeps. He pinged Shizuka, Gian, Suneo: “Hidden gem—don’t bail!”
It blew up quick. Shizuka hit first, scarf whipping as she gawked. “Nobita, this slays! Pure fairy tale.” They roamed the orb nooks, busting guts over pony-tailed porters and conger ladders, forking kelp bits that hinted at octopus treats. Then the goons crashed—Gian belly-flopping the hatch, Suneo mugging with puffers. “Aight, chub. Dad’s tub’s got legit teeth.” Nobita preened, flashing the Builder like a medal. “Bitter? This tops your splash pad.”
But Nobita gonna Nobita—he messed the knobs during the jaunt. “Bump the sink—make it nuts!” Hum, rush, and the orb nosedived like rock, strain whining the panes. Lights stuttered, drips snaking seams, bunch flipped—Shizuka snagging his sleeve, Gian banging bulkheads, Suneo howling over his toy. “We’re done!” Shoals thrashed outside, slime bed closing black. Doraemon grabbed the Builder, but the toggle gummed. “Bonehead—it’s jammed! Grip!”
Orb jolted, splits webbing the shell. Nobita’s innards knotted fiercer than the tumble—flashes of Shizuka steamed, jerks jabbing, his splashy coup tanking. “Aimed to wow…” In the uproar, he clocked a loose tab—fast yank, and it rebooted ping. Up they surged, blasting topside in a spray gusher. Coughing on the lawn, sopping and spooked, crew gaped at the limp orb fizzing to slop. Shizuka latched his paw. “Crazy… but kinda a hoot.” Gian mumbled fine, Suneo hacked, “Beats the tub.”
Doraemon tucked the Builder, squint sharp. “Fun’s okay, wise is wiser. Toys snap if you overload.” Nobita bobbed, sheepish but smirking. The sea bust? Peak bust date. Shizuka dipped with a shore tag vow, and for once, Nobita felt champ sans the gear
(Snagged this from Doraemon’s fifth ep whirl, where a watery whiz hack flips drop to doom and a kid grabs water wings.)
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