Chapter 5 – Festival Fireworks

The summer festival arrived with all the usual fanfare—bright paper lanterns strung across the streets, the aroma of grilled yakitori and sweet takoyaki filling the air, and the cheerful chatter of people moving from stall to stall. Haruto adjusted his yukata collar awkwardly as he stepped through the crowd. His mother had insisted he wear it, claiming “it’s important to look the part.”

And then, like always, Yui appeared.

She twirled once, her white yukata patterned with soft pink cherry blossoms swishing around her legs. Her chestnut hair was tied up loosely with a ribbon, strands framing her glowing face. She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned toward him with a playful grin.

“Haruto-kun, you clean up well!”

Haruto blinked. “…You’re wearing a yukata too?”

“Of course! It’s a festival. You have to.” She spun again, laughing. “Cute, right?”

He looked away quickly, tugging at his sleeve. “It… suits you.”

Yui giggled. “You’re so shy sometimes.”

---

The festival buzzed with life around them. Drums pounded in the distance for the bon dance, children darted past carrying goldfish bags, and the air shimmered with summer heat. Haruto found himself swept along, and beside him, Yui skipped lightly as though the crowd parted just for her.

“Let’s get cotton candy!” she declared suddenly, pointing to a stall where pink and blue clouds of spun sugar puffed into shape.

Before Haruto could respond, she dragged him toward it—or rather, ran ahead, her excitement so infectious that he followed without hesitation.

They stopped at the stand, the vendor busy twisting sugar into a stick. Yui clasped her hands together, bouncing slightly. “It looks so fluffy!”

Haruto paid for one, holding it out. “Here.”

Yui’s face lit up as she reached for it—then faltered. Her fingers passed straight through the cotton candy.

She froze, staring as though she couldn’t believe what had happened. Again she tried, carefully, slowly, but the pink fluff slipped through her hand like mist.

Haruto’s chest tightened. Around them, no one seemed to notice. To the vendor, it probably looked like Haruto had bought it just for himself.

Yui laughed softly, the sound thin. “Guess I’m on a diet, huh?”

“…Yui,” Haruto said quietly.

She shook her head quickly, forcing a bright smile. “It’s fine! Really. You eat it. I’ll just… watch.”

Haruto hesitated, then took a bite. The sugar melted on his tongue, but it felt strangely heavy, like guilt wrapped in sweetness.

Yui tilted her head, eyes glimmering. “Is it good?”

“…Yeah.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment she seemed more fragile than usual, like a lantern flame flickering against the wind.

---

They wandered from stall to stall after that. Yui oohed and aahed over everything—the goldfish scooping, the masks, the candied apples. Each time, Haruto caught that same flicker of hesitation when she reached out, only for her hand to brush through the objects. She always laughed it off, finding some excuse, but Haruto could see the sadness in the corners of her eyes.

At the shooting gallery, she leaned close, pointing at a row of prizes. “That one! The little rabbit plush. It’s so cute.”

Haruto picked up the cork gun, feeling her breath warm against his ear. He aimed carefully, fired—and missed.

“Pffft, you’re terrible,” Yui teased, covering her mouth as she laughed.

Haruto tried again. The cork bounced off uselessly.

“Do you even have depth perception?” she giggled.

“Be quiet.” His ears burned, but he steadied his hand one more time. This time, the cork hit the plush just right, knocking it down.

Yui gasped, clapping. “You did it!”

The stall owner handed Haruto the rabbit plush. Without hesitation, he offered it to Yui.

She blinked, startled. “…Haruto-kun, I can’t—”

“Just take it,” he said.

She reached out, hesitating, then tried to hold it. Like before, her fingers slipped through, unable to grasp it. For a second, her expression crumpled.

Haruto quickly tucked the rabbit into her obi sash instead. “See? Now it’s yours.”

Yui froze, then slowly smiled. A real smile this time—not forced, not fragile, but warm and bright. “Thank you.”

---

As night fell, people gathered near the riverbank where fireworks would soon light the sky. Haruto and Yui found a quiet spot on the grassy slope, a little away from the crowd. Fireflies blinked faintly in the humid air.

Yui hugged her knees, resting her chin on them. “It feels nice, doesn’t it? Being here like this.”

Haruto sat beside her, the rabbit plush still nestled against her sash. “…Yeah.”

She tilted her head toward him. “Are you having fun?”

He glanced at her, at the way the lantern light painted her face golden, and nodded. “Yeah. More than I expected.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds like something only you would say.”

Before Haruto could reply, the first firework cracked across the sky. A blossom of red exploded overhead, followed by gold sparks cascading like rain. The crowd cheered, and more fireworks followed—green, blue, pink—bursting one after another, painting the night in color.

Yui’s eyes widened, reflecting the fireworks like twin stars. She let out a breathless laugh, clapping her hands together in delight. “They’re so beautiful!”

Haruto found himself watching her more than the sky. The way her face lit up, her laughter spilling free—it was more dazzling than any firework.

For a long moment, he forgot about the strangeness, the questions that haunted him. He forgot about the way her hand had passed through cotton candy, or the sadness in her eyes. Right now, she was just Yui, sitting beside him under the summer night.

“Haruto-kun,” she said softly as a shower of golden sparks fell across the sky, “thanks for bringing me here.”

“…It was nothing.”

“No,” she shook her head, her voice almost lost beneath the crack of another firework, “it means a lot. I… I don’t get to do things like this often. So… thank you.”

Her smile trembled slightly, but her eyes shone. Haruto opened his mouth, wanting to ask—Why not? What do you mean? But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he simply nodded.

Above them, the night bloomed in fire and light, and for a brief, perfect moment, Haruto wished the world could stay exactly like this forever.

---

When the last firework faded and the smoke drifted across the sky, the crowd began to disperse. Haruto stood, brushing off his yukata, then offered his hand to Yui.

She looked at it for a long moment, then slowly reached out. Her fingers hovered, trembling slightly, before passing just through his palm. She blinked, startled, then quickly pulled back, forcing a laugh.

“Guess I’m still bad at this hand-holding thing,” she said lightly.

Haruto’s chest ached. He closed his hand, curling it into a fist. “…Yeah.”

They walked back together in silence, the rabbit plush swaying gently in her sash.

The festival lights dimmed behind them, but the warmth of Yui’s smile lingered in Haruto’s heart long after the night ended.