Chapter 24 : Confession

Festivals are supposed to be fun. Supposed to be.

In reality, they’re just organized chaos with cotton candy on top. Kids run around like caffeinated squirrels, couples pretend yukata make them cuter (they don’t), and everyone pretends goldfish scooping isn’t legalized animal abuse.

And somehow, I got dragged into all of it.

---

“Reiji! Reiji!” Yume tugged at my sleeve, pointing at the stall with her eyes shining like it was Disneyland. “I want a goldfish!”

Of course she did. Because nothing says “responsible adult” like winning a pet that’ll probably die in a week.

I sighed. “Fine. But if it dies tomorrow, don’t blame me.”

The stall owner handed me the flimsy paper scoop. I stared at it like it was mocking me. The goldfish darted around the bowl, slippery little traitors laughing at my impending humiliation.

Yume clasped her hands together dramatically. “Punch-kun, you can do it! I believe in you!”

No pressure, right?

Somehow, through sheer willpower—or maybe just dumb luck—I managed to scoop one without breaking the paper. The goldfish wriggled in the tiny net, and I dumped it triumphantly into the bowl.

Yume squealed, jumping up and down. “He did it! Mama, Punch-kun’s a hero!”

I handed her the bag with the fish. “Name it Dinner.”

“Punch-kun!”

She pouted, but hugged the bag like it was a sacred treasure. I caught Asuka watching from the side, laughing quietly into her sleeve.

And yeah—maybe, just for a second, I didn’t hate the chaos.

---

The evening bled into night. Lanterns glowed, kids ran with sparklers, and the air smelled of grilled squid and sugar.

I walked with Asuka and Yume, feeling oddly… normal. Like I wasn’t the angry loner kid, and she wasn’t my teacher, and the world wasn’t always on the verge of breaking.

Eventually, Yume got sleepy, her little hands clinging to the goldfish bag. Asuka took her to sit with some colleagues, and somehow—somehow—I ended up walking alone with her through the festival stalls.

It should’ve been awkward. It was awkward. But also… nice.

---

The fireworks started when we reached the edge of the schoolyard. The first boom lit the sky, painting everything in red and gold.

We stopped under a tree, the two of us staring up.

And I realized—if I didn’t say it now, I never would.

My throat felt dry. My chest hurt like I’d swallowed glass. But the words forced themselves out anyway.

“Asuka.”

She turned, eyes catching the light of the fireworks. Waiting.

“I don’t know what this means for you,” I started, hating how shaky my voice sounded, “but… I don’t want to just be the guy who helps out. I don’t want to just be around because of Yume. I—”

I forced the words out. Raw. Ugly. Honest.

“I like you.”

The fireworks roared overhead, covering the silence that followed.

She looked at me—really looked at me. Not as a teacher, not as a kid, not as some angry problem to fix. Just… me.

Her lips trembled like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Then slowly, carefully, she reached out and took my hand.

Warm. Small. Shaking a little.

No kiss. No dramatic embrace. Just her hand in mine, holding on as if the world might rip us apart if she let go.

I swallowed. My chest felt like it was going to explode.

For once, I didn’t hate the noise, or the people, or the ridiculous mess of everything.

For once, I didn’t hate myself.

---

Love is stupid.

It complicates everything. It makes you vulnerable, makes you say things that sound like bad shoujo manga lines. It makes you do idiotic things like win goldfish and hold hands under fireworks like some cliché couple in a romance drama.

But standing there, with her hand in mine, fireworks burning holes in the night sky—

I decided I didn’t care.

If this was stupid, then maybe I could live with being stupid.

Just this once.