The morning light fractured into pale golden cracks on the damp slope.
When the hem of Shouko's sailor skirt brushed the puddles, Akira's canvas shoe suddenly splashed through, sending droplets skimming past her.
The dark streaks carved into the concrete by last night's downpour were erased by their playful antics.
Her round-toed shoes deliberately stepped into another puddle, scattering fragments of a rainbow that caught in his rising smile.
The reflection of the school gate's iron bars swayed in the water like piano keys, their laughter dissolving into the rustle of convenience store bags caught by the wind.
Akira held her hand as they visited all the interesting stalls they hadn't seen yesterday before the crowds arrived.
The light music club's rehearsal, the history club's Sengoku armor display, the science club's quirky experiments, and the anime character exhibition.
They passed by booths selling handmade crafts: felt dolls, postcards, and delicate Japanese accessories.
Among them, Shouko's eyes lit up at a small gray cat doll that faintly resembled Akira. After some bargaining, she happily paid five hundred yen to claim it.
"Akira, look! For a moment, it really felt like you!"
On the way back, she held the cat doll up beside his face, grinning.
"How is this like me?" he asked blankly, staring at the doll's lifeless fish-like eyes.
"Just look—it's exactly the same for one second!" She giggled, dodging his hand as he tried to snatch it away.
Eventually, he gave up.
"Akira, can you hold onto this for me for a few days?" Shouko suddenly offered the doll to him.
He accepted it without hesitation, the warmth from her hands still lingering.
Before he could ask why, she explained, "Remember to hold this doll when you sleep at night. I'll come back to get it later."
His hand paused as he unzipped his backpack. Good grief, is this… a scent-marking declaration? And she's saying it so boldly too?
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the red at her ears, betraying her embarrassment. He chose not to tease her and silently placed the doll into his bag. She exhaled in relief at his acceptance.
"You two, if you keep dragging this out, we'll never finish," Atsuya Ayumi's voice called from behind.
Shouko quickly linked arms with her classmate, chatting away about the festival. Akira only quickened his steps, wisely deciding not to eavesdrop.
The festival wound down in a haze of twilight. Carp streamers sagged, takoyaki stains lingered in the corridor, and folded tablecloths shook off golden ginkgo leaves.
The haunted house curtain curled sadly in a corner. Constellation lanterns flickered out one by one, and promises whispered over tea cooled into silence.
By the archery range, the last arrow fell; by the dojo, bamboo swords split the sunlight into glimmering shards that scattered across the empty playground.
"See you next year!" someone laughed as confetti and footsteps stretched long into the evening.
Inside the classroom, Ayumi clapped her hands sharply.
"Everyone worked hard these past two days! Tonight, I will tally the revenue, and tomorrow it'll be divided among everyone!"
The simple words brought life back into her weary classmates.
At the doorway, Nobe caught her eye, smiled faintly, and left without a word. Ayumi understood immediately.
"School's over! Be careful heading home!" she called.
Laughter and scraping chairs filled the air again.
"Shouko, stop staring. Nobody's going to steal that thing," Akira said.
"Mhm." She nodded, but her gaze remained fixed on the life-sized standee by the door.
Akira checked his watch—already past 5:30. They had extended business hours, and cleanup had taken longer than expected.
"Let's go, Akira," Shouko tapped his desk gently.
He gathered his thoughts, stood, and helped her carry the troublesome standee home.
At the hallway window, twilight bathed the world in amber.
Shouko pressed her nose to the glass, her reflection glowing in the frame of the sunset. Her lashes cast delicate shadows, and her breath misted the surface like a blush.
Akira, unable to resist, raised his phone. The soft click of the shutter gave him away—Japan's annoying shutter law.
Their eyes met just as the sound broke the stillness.
Behind them stood Kawai Miki, Ueno Naoka, and a bespectacled girl they didn't recognize.
"This is our classmate, Mizusai Hoeko," Miki introduced nervously. "She has something to say to you, Miyamura-kun."
The girl stammered, cheeks crimson, before blurting, "Um… c-could I have your contact info? Just your number, no other meaning!" She thrust forward a notebook and pen.
The classmates in the room noticed immediately. Ayumi even glanced up from her tallying.
Alarm bells rang in Shouko's chest. Her vinegar jar tipped, and without hesitation, she wrapped herself tightly around Akira's arm, pressing close enough to block the notebook.
Her body heat and scent flooded his senses, his ears turning bright red.
Shouko, seeing him speechless, panicked. Is he embarrassed to refuse her?
Her heart pounded. Under the stunned gazes of their classmates, she steeled herself—stood on tiptoe—and pecked Akira on the cheek.
"Hmph!" she added defiantly, shooting the girls a triumphant glance.
The hallway froze. Ayumi's mouth dropped open. Students gawked.
Shouko realized a second too late what she had done—her face burned hotter than his, and she buried herself against his chest in mortified silence.
The other girl fled, red-faced. Miki and Naoka hurriedly excused themselves and followed.
"Class Monitor, something came up. Shouko and I are leaving first!" Akira shouted, grabbing the standee with one hand and her hand with the other.
If he hadn't, Shouko would have bolted faster than anyone.
The onlookers dispersed. A few who had once harbored secret hopes gave them up entirely.
In a corner, Nobe adjusted her glasses and sighed. She turned away quietly. She had no intention of reporting them—after all, Miyamura Shizuka and the principal already knew.
That night, Akira sat at his desk typing. Shizuka peeked up from her drama.
"What's wrong? Did you upset Shouko? She hasn't come over tonight."
He froze. Images of the kiss replayed in his head.
"Of course not," he said quickly. "She's probably just tired. After all the work, maybe she went straight home, had dinner, bathed, and fell asleep."
"True," Shizuka agreed. She had seen how busy their maid café had been.
"By the way, have you finished editing your light novel?" she asked suddenly.
"Do you want to read it?" he asked without looking up.
"Yes. My drama ends tomorrow, and I'll need something else."
"Okay. Tomorrow's my day off. I'll bring it to you," Akira promised.
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