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The sound of wooden clogs carried the festival's atmosphere.
Kiyono stood beneath the slightly quiet stone statue, biting off the tip of his ice pop, feeling oddly emotional—he'd never expected to be invited to a summer festival by beautiful girls, and three of them at that, delivering a death invitation.
His eye twitched at the memory of the previous scene; those three losing heroines had definitely teamed up to prank him!
Just then, faint footsteps approached—cautious and stealthy, like agents rendezvousing.
Kiyono turned and saw exactly who he expected: Komari.
The girl wore a dark-blue yukata that matched her low-key style, patterned with peonies and herbaceous peonies—symbols of wishes for future happiness. She held a small fan; her short hair couldn't take a hairpin, yet she still exuded a quiet elegance.
She walked up slowly, covering half her face with the fan as if to hide something.
"You look good in it, so why so timid?" Kiyono offered a clean appraisal.
Th-this counts as a compliment, right… Komari felt a flicker of delight, brushed her bangs, and whispered, "I-I feel like people are peeking at me…"
Before she could finish, two little kids popped out from behind her. The older boy ran straight at Kiyono.
"Master!"
"Oh, you two came too." Kiyono reached out and caught him.
"S-sorry… They kept insisting on coming to play."
Komari snuck an apologetic glance at him—going out with younger siblings could be inconvenient and kill the mood among peers.
"No worries, no worries. It's a festival; the most important thing is everyone having fun."
Kiyono smiled, even a bit relieved to have the children there. Otherwise, it would be him alone with three losing heroines—that would be suffering, not joy.
"Are these Komari's younger siblings? How cute!"
As the energetic voice chimed in, the athletic girl jogged over, grinning as she patted the little girl's head.
Kiyono glanced at her. Today, Lemon was uncharacteristically wearing a yellow yukata adorned with dragonflies—nicknamed the "bug of victory," a perfect nod to her competitive spirit even in a place like this.
After playing with the kids for a bit, Kiyono bought them two candy apples. While they were licking the candy, Lemon casually sidled up to him and asked, playfully:
"Kiyono, am I… not very suited to this kind of outfit?"
Her eyes shone a little moist and tender.
Her tone sounded warm and offhand, but the faint tension in it gave her true feelings away.
"Hm… if I had to pick one word, it's impressive. Also, you don't have to say these things out loud, you know." Kiyono praised her in a roundabout way.
One of Lemon's charms was that she could banter like a guy friend—while he still treated her like a girl.
"But don't run around in those shoes, okay?" he reminded.
"It's fine. Even in clogs, I can easily master the trick!"
"Don't run!"
Lemon promptly jogged off to the side, hiding her reddening ears.
A moment later, a girl appeared who slightly surprised Kiyono.
"Good evening! Oh, your yukata all look so beautiful!"
Pink long hair, a purple yukata, and a slender figure that even the yukata couldn't conceal—she embodied both modern and traditional Japanese grace, likely influenced by her time in England.
"Karen?" Kiyono said, curious. He'd only chatted with her online occasionally these days; their relationship wasn't exactly at "festival together" level.
Sensing his thoughts, Karen smiled. "I asked Anna if she wanted to go to the festival with me, and she invited me… I hope I'm not causing trouble?"
"Not at all—Karen is super cute!"
Lemon beamed and greeted her. The popular always make friends fast.
At last, only one person hadn't arrived.
This gluttonous otter… why has she been cutting it so close lately? Does she really think she's the protagonist?
Kiyono grumbled as he idly scrolled his phone.
—This time, he truly misunderstood her.
"Sorry, did I make everyone wait?"
A faint, breathless voice came.
A subtle fragrance, richer than usual, drifted over.
Kiyono straightened and looked up.
The blue-haired girl stood before him.
Her white-based yukata was trimmed in delicate light blue; the dark sash at her waist was tied in a girlish bow. Her smooth, medium-length hair had been swept up beautifully, and under the lantern glow, a faint down on her slender, exquisite neck was visible.
She seemed to be wearing light makeup; the corners of her eyes and her lips were softly rosy.
She lifted her gaze slightly; her lake-blue eyes rippled like cherry blossoms falling into a spring pond. Clear, lively pupils sparkled, and her bashfully flushed cheeks tipped just out of line with his.
No trace of her usual naivety or boisterousness.
Gentle, serene—like a Yamato Nadeshiko.
Clearly, Yanami's entrance was perfect.
Unfamiliar.
That was everyone's first impression.
…She's so vain. Why didn't she wear a kimono at the New Year's shrine visit last time?
Kiyono tamped down the odd pang in his chest, finding it all a bit strange.
—Hmph, hmph. This is exactly what she deserves after almost choking me to death!
Bathed in brilliant light, Yanami couldn't help crossing her arms triumphantly—if only in her heart.
But then Yanami's nose twitched; her eyes lit up. She darted to a nearby stall and came back with a large grilled sausage in each hand, cheeks full. The ethereal aura from moments before evaporated like a mirage.
—Good. On an occasion like this, the Demon Lord Yanami's second form will remain sealed!
The other two girls quietly exhaled, sharing reassured smiles.
And so, the festival began.
They moved as a group, noisily browsing the stalls.
Yanami kept to Kiyono's side, deliberately slowing her pace.
Unconsciously, the two drifted to the rear.
After confirming the others up ahead wouldn't notice, the girl in the yukata rose lightly onto her tiptoes; warmth carried by her breath brushed his ear and resonated within him.
"Heh, this is the yukata I was supposed to show you for New Year's last time."
Night fell. Lanterns strung over each stall lit the festival street in a long, steady line.
Colorful, dazzling floats rolled out to parade along the road. Girls atop them tossed candy into the crowd, sending children squealing in pursuit. The light patter of footsteps and the hiss of frying filled the air.
Taiyaki, cotton candy, candy apples, yakisoba, goldfish. The festival atmosphere thickened.
Komari walked slowly, unconsciously melding with the scene, her expression soft.
This was what she'd once longed for but couldn't have—forced to stay home alone, brooding and cursing couples who enjoyed their youth. She could have come out… but it would have been too lonely, too pathetic. A festival is only a festival when you have company.
Komari paused at a stall, picked up a white fox mask, and studied it.
It was as if she'd always worn a mask over her heart—deceiving herself, hiding in her own world, refusing to engage.
Kiyono had given her the courage to try—
Wait, where are Kiyono and the others?
She set the mask down and glanced around, puzzled. No familiar faces. They'd gotten separated; the street was packed, and everyone had different things to buy… Fortunately, her younger siblings were with Karen and Lemon, so there was no need to worry.
Komari doubled back a short way and finally spotted Kiyono's silhouette—when a broadcast chimed in her ear.
"Fireworks are about to begin. Please find your viewing spots in advance…"
The street fell briefly silent, then the crowd surged forward.
Komari froze. Everyone was moving, and she alone stood still in the current. Faces—unfamiliar, everywhere. Her petite frame magnified the panic. She felt like a reef about to be drowned by a wave, a helpless child left behind.
Instinctively, she took two steps back and reached for the boy behind her—only to be swept apart by the crowd.
She couldn't see his face anymore… Her feet were getting stepped on…
The world tilted terrifyingly. In the press of bodies, a hand suddenly seized her wrist. And somehow, even without seeing the face, she knew it was him.
"What are you standing there for? Move."
Kiyono shouldered through and planted himself beside her, forming a small island in the crowd.
"It's… it's these commoners who are arbitrarily disrupting order."
Emotion rippled in her bright eyes. Komari pursed her lips and whispered.
"Are you an emperor?!" Kiyono shot back. "Anyway, let's reach our spot first."
She hummed and followed him without a word.
They walked, carved by the flow.
The scene was the same, but their states of mind were entirely different.
Komari looked up at his back.
She knew she wasn't outstanding—neither in personality nor looks—and couldn't compare to the girls around him. She didn't even have the courage to actively close the distance. There seemed to be no chance at all.
But…
「But」
Right now—
Even if she reached out just a little, that would be okay… right?
The crowd and scenery blurred into a soft filter. The world in her eyes narrowed to only him. The girl lowered her head, extended a slightly trembling hand, and, slowly—gently—gripped his sleeve.
Kiyono led Komari to the riverbank at the venue. They chose a spot farther back, where it wasn't too crowded.
While Komari spread the mat, Kiyono pulled out his phone and texted the temporary group chat:
"Where are you all? How long until you arrive?"
"Lost…" As if copy-pasted, all three girls sent the same word—each with a photo of her location. (Yanami, by the way, included a close-up of the food in her hand.)
"???"
The closest was Lemon.
When Kiyono found the athletic girl, she was at a shooting gallery, working her right arm like a strongman and looking very fired up.
"The fireworks are about to start," Kiyono said as he walked up, reminding her.
"No rush—too many people right now. The fireworks last an hour. Instead of that… Kiyono, let's compete to see who can shoot down that doll first!"
Lemon pointed at the topmost prize: a blue shark plush.
"Are you sure? This is an exquisitely engineered chain of traps—one after another—meant to extract money from children," Kiyono said solemnly.
"No matter what trap it is, I will personally break it!" She clenched her fist with burning resolve.
"Then give it a try."
Lemon nodded hard, braced the stock, closed one eye like a sniper, and—bang—
Miss.
Bang.
Miss.
Head bowed, the girl shamefacedly offered him the gun with both hands.
"Your wish shall be fulfilled by me," Kiyono declared with the gravity of inheriting a great mission.
He took the gun, adjusted the angle, drew a long breath, squeezed the trigger, and watched the wind.