Miyamura Shizuka was the first to arrive at the parking lot near the Fireworks Festival, while Daiki was still on his way, driving a second car since theirs was overloaded. Everyone had agreed to meet at the parking lot nearby.
As soon as Akira got out of the car, he noticed a mix of tourists—some in casual wear, most already in yukatas designed for the festival. Many carried small bags or baskets filled with food from home or the convenience store.
While festival stalls sold cooked food, they usually came with long lines and marked-up prices once crowds poured in.
"You let your dad drive alone? Aren't you afraid he'd cry from loneliness in the car?" Shizuka teased as she stepped out of the vehicle, unbuckling her seatbelt and ruffling Akira's hair.
Akira brushed her hand away with a small sigh. "Dad's not that fragile, Mom."
Shizuka only chuckled and turned to chat with Nishimiya Yaeko. Yuzuru and Shouko were chatting nearby, leaving Akira looking around alone.
He noticed clusters of high schoolers—many girls in uniform-style yukata. Most were with friends, though a few waited alone, clearly expecting someone. And of course, there were plenty of young couples already holding hands and laughing.
One pair caught his attention: a high school girl with brown, shoulder-length hair in a blue-and-white yukata, and a boy beside her in casual wear. The boy awkwardly tried to hold her hand but hesitated repeatedly until the girl grabbed it herself and said something he couldn't quite hear.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
Daiki arrived, holding a small bag with a convenience store logo.
Shizuka glanced at the time. "Let's head toward the stalls and have some fun first," she suggested, then took Yuzuru's hand—interrupting her mid-conversation with Shouko.
Yuzuru turned to give Akira a confused look. Yaeko only chuckled and took Yuzuru's other hand.
"Take good care of Shouko," Daiki said quietly, following behind them.
Akira sighed, watching them go.
"Let's go then, Akira."
Shouko, in her yukata, smiled and extended her hand. Without hesitation, he took it.
"Yeah. Let's see what kinds of stalls they have."
Just as they walked off hand-in-hand, the high school girl from earlier spotted them. "See? Even those two are braver than you. Took you ten minutes to try holding my hand."
"I just didn't want anyone I know to see," the boy muttered.
Since they'd arrived early, the festival wasn't crowded yet. Shouko led Akira through rows of colorful stalls, pausing in front of one lined with red and blue hangings. Several shallow water tanks housed goldfish swimming lazily.
Shouko pointed excitedly. "Akira, this one! Let's try this!"
The stall owner chuckled. "Want to give it a shot? 500 yen per try. Ten scoops, ten minutes."
Akira reached for his pocket—only to remember his yukata didn't have any. His mom had chosen it for looks over practicality. His change was still in the pants he wore earlier.
Shouko giggled softly. "I'll do it." She pulled a 500-yen coin from the white coin purse at her side and handed it to the stall owner.
"Have fun." He gave her ten thin paper scoops and a plastic basin for any fish they caught, which Akira placed at her feet.
Shouko divided the scoops and offered half to him. "Let's share!"
Akira shook his head. "Nah, you go ahead. I'll just watch."
She didn't argue, but it was clear she had other plans.
Her first scoop broke immediately.
"Ah… That was fast…" she muttered, holding up the ripped scoop.
But her eyes lit up again. "Okay! Let's try again!"
Within minutes, she was down to five scoops—and not a single fish in the basin.
"Akira…" she mumbled, eyes looking for comfort.
"It's okay. These scoops break really easily. Not your fault."
But the stall owner cut in with mock offense. "Hey! Don't go bad-mouthing my scoops! I'll have you know these are top-tier. Ranked second in durability among all goldfish stalls!"
Akira rolled his eyes. "...Right."
Taking a breath, he looked at Shoko. "Want me to try? Pick one and I'll aim for it."
"Okay…" she said quietly, handing him the remaining scoops and stepping aside.
The stall owner snorted, clearly expecting the boy to embarrass himself.
But Akira wasn't planning to fail.
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