The festival had ended.
The stalls were closing, the fireworks were over, and the courtyard was slowly emptying. Laughter turned into yawns. Light turned into the hum of cicadas.
Kazuki, Aira, and Suguru walked together toward the school gate, their steps slower than usual—as if no one really wanted the night to end.
"Well, I'm off!" Suguru shouted, spinning dramatically. "I'm gonna find a vending machine and confess to it. Wish me luck!"
Neither Kazuki nor Aira reacted. They just let him go.
Now it was just the two of them.
Walking side by side under a dark sky.
No words.
No noise.
Just silence and footsteps.
"…Kazuki," Aira finally said, her voice soft. "About what I wanted to say."
He didn't look at her. "You said it already. You're glad you met me."
"Yeah, but that's only half of it."
He stopped.
She stopped, too.
The school gate was right in front of them, but neither crossed it.
Kazuki turned toward her. "Then say the rest."
Aira looked down at her feet. "I can't."
"Why?"
"I don't know how."
The cicadas buzzed. The wind stirred. A train passed in the distance.
And Kazuki, tired of the guessing, said something he never thought he'd say:
"Then show me."
Aira's eyes widened.
Then, without warning—she tiptoed up, leaned in close…
And kissed him on the cheek.
Warm.
Quick.
Real.
She pulled back, flustered. "There. That's what I wanted to say."
Kazuki stared at her—silent, eyes wide.
He didn't say anything.
But he didn't need to.
Because his face was red.
And Aira smiled.
"…You're so bad at this," she whispered.
Kazuki looked away. "Shut up."
They walked again—this time, a little closer than before.
And neither said a word about what had just happened.
Because some moments… don't need words.