Lanterns lit the village streets as the festival began. Their soft glow filled the air with a warm, golden color, pushing away the early evening darkness. Bright laughter and cheerful shouts echoed through the village, mixing with the smell of grilled food and sweet cakes.
Shinji moved slowly among the crowd, Hana at his side, eyes wide with excitement as she admired each small stall along the main street. Their parents followed closely behind, chatting quietly with neighbors they passed. Shinji noticed Ren ahead, standing near his father's forge stall, waving to them with charcoal-smudged fingers.
"Come try the throwing game!" Ren called, pointing at a small target of straw set behind the forge. Goro stood quietly nearby, carefully laying out small iron rods and nails for sale.
Shinji approached the stall, staring down at the smooth iron nails lined up neatly on the wooden counter. They reminded him of the bent nail in his pocket. Without thinking, he reached in and touched it gently.
"Here, Shinji, throw this," Ren said, handing him a small iron ring. "If you hit the center, you win a prize."
Shinji took the ring, feeling its cool metal smooth against his palm. He took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes carefully on the target. For just a brief moment, he felt the warmth inside him again, gentle and comforting, guiding his hand.
He threw the ring. It spun quickly, striking the edge of the target and bouncing away into the dirt. Ren laughed, and Hana shook her head with a teasing smile.
"You missed!" Ren said playfully, picking up the fallen ring.
Shinji smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Next time, I guess."
Hana nudged him gently. "You never were good at throwing."
Their mother's voice called from behind, gentle and warm. "Come on, children, there's still plenty to see."
They continued moving through the festival together, passing by food stalls piled high with grilled fish, steaming dumplings, and sweet pastries dusted with sugar. Shinji took a deep breath, enjoying the delicious scents. He felt relaxed, almost forgetting his worries completely.
Near the village shrine, musicians began to play softly on flutes and drums, filling the air with gentle, rhythmic melodies. Children danced excitedly around them, faces bright with happiness. Hana tugged on Shinji's sleeve, pointing toward an older woman holding a tray piled with tiny paper lanterns.
"Can we?" Hana asked eagerly, eyes sparkling.
Their father nodded, smiling quietly as he handed each of them a small copper coin. Hana hurried ahead, choosing a lantern painted gently with pink flowers. Shinji hesitated before carefully selecting one painted simply in blue.
"Now, whisper your wish inside," the woman said softly, smiling kindly at each child. "When you place it into the river, it will carry your dreams away."
Shinji stared at the small lantern in his hands. He had wished once already, with the cherry seed, but somehow, the lantern felt different. He stepped away from the crowd, kneeling quietly at the river's edge.
The lantern felt fragile, light in his hands, as though one wrong move would break it. He hesitated briefly, gathering his thoughts carefully. "Please," he whispered softly, his voice quiet but clear, "show me how to understand this feeling inside me."
Gently, he set the lantern on the water, watching as it drifted away slowly. The tiny flame flickered gently, casting faint reflections on the river's surface. Around him, dozens of other lanterns floated silently, each carrying whispered hopes from the villagers.
"Did you wish?" Hana's voice startled him softly, and he turned quickly to see her standing beside him, smiling gently. Her pink lantern bobbed softly beside his blue one, drifting steadily downstream.
"Yes," he answered quietly, eyes still fixed on the lanterns floating away. "Did you?"
Hana nodded slowly, her face thoughtful. "I wished for our family to always be happy."
Shinji smiled softly, a gentle warmth filling his chest at her words. "That's a good wish."
Hana reached out, squeezing his hand lightly. "Whatever you wished for, Shinji, I hope it comes true."
He squeezed her hand gently back, comforted by her kindness. "Thank you, Hana."
They stood quietly together, watching their lanterns drift farther away, the tiny lights growing smaller until they blended softly with the darkness. Behind them, the festival continued—laughter, music, and warmth filling the village. But Shinji felt peaceful here, with Hana beside him, as if the lantern had carried away a small piece of his worry.
"Come," Hana finally said, tugging gently on his hand. "There's still food to eat."
Shinji followed her back toward their parents, who were laughing with neighbors beneath the glow of festival lights. Ren stood nearby, stuffing his mouth happily with sweet rice cakes, waving eagerly when he spotted Shinji again.
As they joined the cheerful gathering, Shinji's heart felt lighter, worries temporarily softened by the joyful sounds and sweet smells surrounding him. He reached into his pocket again, touching the bent nail gently. But tonight, at least, they seemed less urgent.
His father approached, smiling warmly. "Enjoying the festival, Shinji?"
"Yes," Shinji answered honestly, meeting his father's gentle gaze. "It's good to see everyone happy."
His father nodded thoughtfully, gently placing a hand on Shinji's shoulder. "Our village may be small, but times like these remind me that we have everything we need."
Shinji felt comforted by his father's words, smiling quietly as he looked around. Families laughed together, children danced freely, and warm lantern lights pushed gently against the darkness. It felt safe and familiar, like home should feel.
Later, when the festival slowly quieted, Shinji and Hana walked quietly back home, their parents ahead, softly talking to each other. Hana yawned sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Shinji gently nudged her shoulder, smiling teasingly.
"Tired already?"
She smiled, nodding slowly. "The lanterns made me sleepy."
As they reached home, their parents said quiet goodnights and disappeared inside. Shinji paused briefly on the porch, staring back toward the distant river, still softly glowing with tiny lantern lights.
Hana stood quietly beside him, leaning her head gently on his shoulder. "Whatever you're worried about, Shinji," she murmured softly, voice sleepy but serious, "remember you're never alone."
He felt warmth rise gently in his chest again, a comforting kind. "I know," he whispered quietly, gently placing an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you."
They stood silently together, watching the village lights fade slowly into darkness, the quiet murmurs of families drifting gently from nearby homes. Eventually, Shinji guided Hana quietly inside, settling softly into his bedding as the house grew quiet.
He closed his eyes, feeling calm for the first time in days, listening carefully as Hana's breathing slowed into gentle sleep beside him. Outside, crickets sang softly, filling the night air with quiet peace.