The lantern burns low (pt 3)

When Haru and Mia returned to the festival grounds, the last traces of sunlight had disappeared. Daichi was standing on the podium, a microphone positioned in front of him. He took a deep breath, looking over the small crowd that had gathered.

“Greetings, everyone!” he exclaimed.

“Thank you all for coming to this year's Hikarisakura and helping us prepare. Now the time has come to light the lanterns.” He looked at an empty ladder standing by the tree. “Please, Haru, the honor is yours to light the first lantern this year.”

Haru was surprised, his eyes questioning.

We hadn’t discussed this at all.

He didn’t like being in the spotlight like this at all…

Renji dropped a lighter in Haru’s hand and gave him a pat on the shoulder, “You can do this, man.” He briefly looked at Mia, “Do it for her.”

Haru met the girl’s blue eyes as she cheered him on, “Haru!”

Soon, other villagers followed.

Reluctantly, Haru walked up to the ladder and climbed in. He held the button of the lighter, a yellow flame flickering. Carefully, he brought it to the candle in the lighter, trying his best to ignore the crowd watching him from behind. With a steady hand, he moved the flame onto the lantern’s fuse.

With a flash of light, the first lantern illuminated. The crowd cheered as Haru climbed down the ladder.

“Thank you, Haru, I will keep this speech short so I can help light the other lanterns,” Daichi said with a smile. ”Just remember, when the blossoms fall and the lantern turns blue, someone far away is thinking of you at the same time.”

The boy made a short bow, after which he left the podium. Renji jumped up to the podium and grabbed the microphone. “An applause for Daichi!” he yelled, the crowd enthusiastically responding. After that, the boys started helping Haru with lighting the other lanterns.

From a distance, Mia and Ayaka admired the boys, who were lighting up the festival.

“It’s kind of magical, isn’t it?” Mia whispered, watching the warm lights flickering. The falling petals danced around in the gentle lantern light, like glowing snowflakes dropping before the villagers. Mia took out her phone and filmed Haru lighting the last lantern.

Ayaka fixed her eyes on the three boys, “They’ve changed so much these years… not long ago, they were chasing each other with sticks.”

She smiled, “They are still idiots, though.”

Mia stared at Haru, and turned back to Ayaka, “Do you think I can still get a paper slip? I suddenly found some inspiration.”

“Well… that’s not how the tradition works. But nobody is going to stop you…” she responded, shrugging her shoulders.

She went to the table where they were selling the slips before and managed to take one from the box when nobody was looking.

After taking a deep breath, she stared at the small piece of paper. She hovered a pen over it before she started writing.

“To the people whom I’ll leave behind soon.

Know that I won’t forget you.

In this quiet town, I found pieces of myself I didn’t know were missing.

And in your warmth, I learned what it means to love.”

She folded the slip and brought it to Daichi, who was standing next to one of the ladders.

With pleading eyes, she looked at the boy, “Can you please add this?”

He smiled, “Of course,” he said as he climbed the ladder and put Mia’s slip next to a lantern.

When she turned around, Haru was standing a few steps behind her. He had noticed her writing something

“Have you made your wish?” he asked softly.

She nodded, “Sort of. It’s more of a thank-you letter, I suppose.”

Haru smiled, “You don’t have to tell me. That way you’ll spoil it.”

The girl chuckled, “That’s right… I suppose.”

They stood in silence, watching the lanterns glow. Haru moved closer and wrapped his arm around the girl. The wind carried pink petals between them. Around them, the town came to life with music, food and light - but here in this small space, there was just the peace between them.

“Tomorrow,” Mia said, almost a whisper, “I think I’ll film the sunrise.”

“Another shot for your documentary?” Haru asked, glancing at the horizon.

“Yeah,” she said, then added with a smirk, “But mostly just for me. I want to remember this... exactly how it was.”

He nodded, “Can you promise me something?”

Mia raised her eyebrows. “Depends on what it is.”

“Promise you’ll come back one day. Even if it’s just for the dango.”

She laughed, “It’s true… I’ve become obsessed with them,” after which she took another bite of the chewy snack she was holding.

But then, she looked at him, her voice quieter. “Okay, I promise.”

Mia held up her pinky. After a second of hesitation, Haru locked his with hers.

Above them, the lanterns shimmered, Mia noticing something unusual.

“Is it me… or does that one flicker blue?” she said, pointing at one of the lanterns.

Haru turned his head and whispered, “You’re right… I’ve never seen one look this blue before.”

Mia glimpsed, “I take this as a good omen.”

The couple's hands locked as they stared at the blue lantern, the warmth of their touch flowing through their bodies.

A little later, Daichi called the friends together for a group photo. The friends gathered under the tree where the blue lantern hung. Mia set the timer on her phone and joined them, squeezing between Haru and Ayaka.

“Say - Hikarisakura!” Daichi shouted.

“Hikarisakura!” the friends echoed, right as the camera’s flash lit up their faces.

The friends laughed as they looked at the cheerful photograph visible on Mia’s phone screen.

As the laughter settled and the others chatted around him, Haru found himself quietly watching Mia. The glow of the blue lantern reflected in her eyes, like a memory she was about to carry back across the ocean. He knew she was leaving soon - had always known - but something about tonight made that realization feel more real.

A soft breeze blew the petals above them, and she turned to him with a smile that felt like goodbye. Haru blinked, trying to imprint it in his mind to remember forever. He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were starting to shine, like quiet memories of things no one could say out loud. In that moment, he understood what it meant to love someone who would soon be gone. So he looked away - and hid his face amid a crowd of stars.