[Chapter 8: Festival Lights]
The festival was more lively than Takumi expected.
Rows of lanterns lit the street in a warm golden glow, swaying gently with the breeze. Their light danced across food stalls, colorful banners, and passing faces, painting the town in flickering amber. Laughter echoed through the air, mingling with the sound of drums and bells from a distant performance.
The air was thick with the smell of grilled meat, sweet mochi, roasted corn, and something fried that Takumi couldn't quite place.
He arrived early, hands buried in his pockets as usual, dressed in a plain shirt and his familiar black jacket. It was simple, a little underdressed maybe, but he hadn't thought much about it. Festivals weren't really his thing. He'd only come because—well, he didn't really have a reason he was willing to say out loud.
He leaned against the edge of a stall, letting his eyes scan the crowd, until a sudden hush fell over his thoughts.
Yuri had arrived.
She walked in with Kana at her side, chatting lightly, unaware of the effect she had just created.
Takumi froze.
She wore a light blue yukata, patterned with soft white blossoms that seemed to glow under the lantern light. Her light brown hair was tied up neatly, a delicate pin tucked in like a finishing touch. She didn't just look beautiful—she looked different. Gentler, maybe.
It was as if, for one night, the quiet barrier she always kept around her had thinned.
"Whoa," Haruto muttered beside him, low enough that only Takumi could hear. "Dude, you're staring."
Takumi scowled slightly, eyes flicking away. "Shut up."
But he didn't deny it.
Yuri stepped up to him, a light smile on her lips. "You're early."
He tilted his head slightly, trying to keep his voice even. "You're late."
They stood there for a moment, the subtle tension between them half-disguised by the noisy festival around them.
Haruto clapped his hands together. "Okay, okay! Let's split. Me and Kana are hitting the food stalls first. You two go play some games or something."
Kana gave Yuri a wink before looping her arm through Haruto's and dragging him off with surprising ease.
Takumi watched them vanish into the crowd, unsure whether to be grateful or annoyed.
Then it was just the two of them.
They stood side by side at the edge of the walkway, the crowd flowing around them like a river. For once, neither of them moved.
"So," Yuri said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. "Want to try winning me a prize?"
Takumi turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. "You're assuming I'm good at carnival games."
"You look like you're good at everything," she replied, a slight smirk forming. "It's annoying."
Takumi couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. It was short, but real.
"Well," he said, stepping toward the nearest stall, "Let's test that theory."
They stopped at the ring toss booth. The man behind the counter grinned, gesturing toward the neatly arranged glass bottles.
Takumi picked up one of the plastic rings, weighing it casually in his hand.
"If I win," he said, glancing at Yuri without turning his head fully, "you owe me something."
"Oh?" Yuri stepped beside him, arms crossed, her tone light but curious. "Like what?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he focused on the game, eyes narrowing slightly. His posture shifted—calm, precise.
Then he threw.
The ring spun through the air and dropped perfectly onto one of the bottles. A clean hit.
Yuri blinked. "Wow. That was... unexpected."
The booth operator clapped cheerfully and handed Takumi a prize—a small, soft stuffed bear with a red ribbon around its neck.
Takumi didn't even hesitate. He turned and handed it to Yuri, their fingers brushing for just a moment longer than necessary.
She looked at the bear, then at him. "Thanks."
Her voice was quiet.
The space between them felt different again. Just slightly.
People bustled around them—children running past with cotton candy, couples laughing as they tried catching goldfish, the occasional pop of fireworks in the distance—but in that moment, it all faded into background noise.
Yuri clutched the bear to her chest gently, like it was more precious than she'd admit.
Takumi didn't look away this time.
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say next. But maybe, for once, silence was enough.