The final weekend of the festival had arrived like the last pages of a cherished book. The school grounds still buzzed with energy—fairy lights blinking between stalls, voices ringing with laughter, and footsteps echoing across the courtyard. The scent of grilled food mingled with sweet syrupy air, a strange but fitting blend of celebration and closure.
Naoto hadn't planned on participating in anything beyond what he was obligated to do. But somehow, he found himself standing behind a counter, wearing an apron with a spatula in one hand and confusion in the other.
The Home Economics Club had organized a surprise team cooking challenge, and volunteers—both willing and unwilling—were roped into the chaos.
To his dismay, when the names were called, one of them was Rika Hayato.
"I didn't ask for this," Naoto muttered under his breath, already feeling the weight of the situation.
"You're not the only one being dragged," Rika snapped back, her tone sharp as she tied her apron with more force than necessary.
They stood side by side, surrounded by clattering pans, flour-dusted countertops, and a crowd that had gathered to watch. For a moment, tension simmered like a boiling pot. But then their eyes met across the mess.
And despite everything, they smirked.
Their cooking? Passable.
Their teamwork? Chaotic.
Their banter? Unintentionally hilarious.
People laughed—not at them, but because of them. The awkward bickering and accidental food disasters became the heart of the event. The audience loved it. And, strangely enough, so did they.
For once… neither of them minded being seen.
---
Later That Night
The glow of lanterns still bathed the school in warmth as Naoto helped clean up the remains of the event. He stacked trays with half-used ingredients and tossed napkins into overfilled bins when someone tapped his shoulder.
It was Yuto—a classmate, not a close friend, but friendly enough to start casual conversations.
"Hey," Yuto greeted, a little hesitant. "You and Rika… are you two, y'know?"
Naoto looked up, puzzled. "No."
Yuto chuckled nervously. "Could've fooled me."
Naoto gave a short laugh, but the sound didn't carry far. He turned back to the trash bags without another word, yet something about the conversation clung to him—like a question he wasn't ready to ask himself.
---
Rika's Private Moment
Later that night, in the quiet of her room, Rika sat cross-legged on her bed, a soft lamplight casting shadows across her floor. In her lap lay a small, leather-bound notebook—worn and tucked away like a secret.
She flipped through pages of scattered thoughts, half-finished sentences, and doodles she'd never show anyone.
Her pen paused on a new page.
She hesitated. Then wrote:
> "He makes things more difficult… but also less lonely."
A breath caught in her chest.
She stared at the sentence for a while, as if trying to decipher her own feelings. Then, gently, she closed the notebook and held it tightly to her chest.
---
A Silent Detour
Elsewhere on campus, away from the noise and fading lights, Naoto slipped out through the side hallway near the gym. He glanced over his shoulder once—no one followed.
His footsteps guided him toward the back gate, where it was quiet and dark, lit only by the distant shimmer of lanterns in the sky.
He took out his phone and called a number he'd long memorized but never saved.
It rang once.
Then—her voice.
"You're late," she said, soft and familiar, the kind of voice that reached places no one else could.
"Couldn't slip away any sooner," he replied.
A pause.
"I saw a picture. You and her. You looked… happy."
"It's not what it looks like," he said quietly. "It's just noise. You're the only one I've ever truly seen."
Her voice wavered on the other end. "Do you regret… this distance?"
"Never," he said, without hesitation. "I'm here because I promised I'd wait."
"And I'll keep waiting," she whispered.
The call ended not with goodbye, but with silence—intimate, unresolved, and heavy with meaning.
Naoto slid the phone back into his pocket, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. Then he turned and walked back into the crowd, the sound of fireworks slowly filling the air once more.