The week before the autumn festival felt like walking on glass that hadn't cracked yet, but Kenji could hear the faint ticking under every step.
Monday morning he ran slower than usual. Not on purpose. His legs just felt heavier, like someone had turned up the gravity dial by ten percent. He still made it to the gate on time, still found Aiko there waiting, scrolling her phone with that same half smile she wore more often now.
"Morning, legend," she said without looking up.
"Morning, queen of procrastination," he replied, the old rhythm kicking in automatically.
She laughed, pocketed her phone, and they walked together. Same path, same fountain, same everything. Except Aiko hummed a little tune under her breath, something soft and unfamiliar. Kenji didn't ask what it was. He already knew it probably came from Rei.
In homeroom, announcements included the festival schedule: food stalls, yukata rental booth, bonfire at eight, fireworks at nine. The class buzzed. Mio immediately turned around in her seat.
"Group plan! We're all going together Saturday night, right? Matching yukata or nah?"
Haruto groaned. "I look stupid in a yukata. Like a tall sad samurai."
"You already look like a sad samurai," Mio shot back. "It's perfect."
Daichi pushed his glasses up. "I'm fine with whatever. As long as there's yakitori."
Aiko hesitated. "I… might meet up with you guys later. Rei asked me to go with him first. Walk the stalls, maybe watch the fireworks together."
The table went quiet for a second.
Then Mio squealed again. "Oh my god, it's official. Official now?"
Aiko's ears went pink. "It's just… we're going together. That's all."
"That's huge," Haruto said, grinning wide. "Our little Aiko's growing up. Next thing you know she'll be bringing him to karaoke and making him sing ballads."
Kenji stared at his desk, tracing a scratch in the wood with his thumbnail.
"Sounds fun," he said. Voice steady. Too steady. "You guys will look good together."
Aiko glanced at him. "You're coming too, right? The whole group?"
He forced the smile, the big one, the one that showed teeth. "Wouldn't miss it. Gotta be there to third wheel dramatically."
Everyone laughed. Crisis averted.
But the rest of the day the words sat in his stomach like wet concrete.
During afternoon break he skipped the usual vending machine run with Haruto and Daichi. Instead he wandered to the empty stairwell near the old music room and sat on the steps, knees up, staring at nothing.
He pulled out his phone. Opened the group chat. Scrolled up.
Photos from last summer. All five of them at the beach, sunburned and stupid. Aiko laughing so hard she was doubled over while Haruto tried to bury Kenji in sand. Another from cultural festival, Kenji in a ridiculous maid cafe apron because he lost a bet, Aiko taking the photo with tears in her eyes from laughing.
He locked the screen. Pressed his forehead to his knees.
The bell rang. He didn't move right away.
When he finally got back to class, fourth period was already starting. Rika was in her usual sprawl, one leg hooked over the chair in front, doodling something that looked like barbed wire curling around a cracked heart.
The teacher was out sick, the substitute gave them "free study time." Most people pulled out phones or gossiped to their friends. Kenji just stared at his notebook.
A folded note landed on his desk. Same messy handwriting.
You're doing the kicked puppy thing again.
He looked over. Rika wasn't even facing him just staring ahead like she hadn't thrown anything.
He wrote back.
Maybe I'm just allergic to happiness.
Flicked it onto her desk.
She caught it, read it, snorted so quietly only he heard.
Wrote something longer this time. Threw it.
You're allowed to be pissed off. Pretending you're fine is more annoying than actually being annoying.
Kenji stared at the words.
He didn't write anything clever back. Just.
I'm not pissed. I'm… tired.
He tossed it.
She read it. Didn't throw anything for a long minute.
Then.
Tired of what?
He hesitated. Pencil hovered.
Of being the guy who's always okay with everything.
He folded it, threw it.
Rika read it. Her shoulders shifted just a fraction. She wrote slowly this time.
Then being not okay for once might feel better than faking it forever.
She didn't throw the note.
She just slid it across the aisle so it landed on his desk without sound.
Kenji read it twice.
He didn't reply.
But he kept the paper. Folded it small and tucked it into his wallet, next to the old photo booth strip of him and Aiko from when they were thirteen, goofy faces, peace signs, her arm slung around his neck.
After school the track team had interval training. Kenji pushed harder than he should have. Coach yelled at him to ease up before he pulled something. He didn't listen. When they finished he stayed behind, running cooldown laps alone until the stadium lights clicked on and the sky turned indigo.
He stopped at the finish line, hands on knees, breathing hard.
For once the burn in his legs felt honest.
When he finally walked home, phone in hand, the group chat was alive.
Mio: Festival outfits!! Who's wearing what color??
Haruto: Black. I'm going as the shadow.
Daichi: I'm not wearing a yukata. I'll die of embarrassment.
Aiko: I'm thinking navy blue with white flowers. Rei said he's doing something simple too.
Kenji stared at the last message.
He typed.
Sounds nice. See you all there.
He sent it.
Then turned his phone off.
He didn't turn it back on until he got home, showered, and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
The festival was four days away.
He still hadn't decided whether he wanted to watch fireworks with his friends… or disappear into the crowd before it started.