Chapter 6: Summer Vacation, the Cafe, and Fireworks

"Kouya-kun, say aah."

Wearing a pink apron and looking thoroughly delighted, Kiyoko thrust a silver fork skewering a three-centimeter square, mochi-like confection right in front of Kouya's face.

"............"

After spending exactly three seconds questioning his own pride over whether he should bite into food being spoon-fed to him like a toddler, Kouya gave up. Screw it, whatever, he thought, and bit into the sweet Kiyoko was offering.

As he chewed, the soft mochi broke apart, flooding his mouth with the rich flavors of walnuts and chocolate.

"Is it delicious?"

Asked by a beaming Kiyoko, Kouya nodded honestly. "It's really good. Looks Japanese, but tastes pretty Western."

"It is my Prototype Number One: Habutae Mochi with coconut, walnuts, and white chocolate bean paste!"

"You've cooked up another incomprehensible monstrosity..."

"I am aiming to get it added to Cassandra's menu, but the ingredient costs are far too high to be profitable, so I need to improve the recipe. Once I make Prototype Number Two, I'll be relying on you for another taste test and review!"

The aproned girl practically skipped back into the kitchen. She was undoubtedly going to start tweaking the recipe and whipping up another batch immediately.

"And this is how my summer vacation kicks off..."

Haaa. Kouya let out a heavy sigh.

Today was the monumental first day of summer vacation. And the moment summer vacation had begun, Kiyoko's aggressive sweets-making boot camp had commenced alongside it.

Kiyoko was apparently plotting to add her original confections to Cassandra's menu. Just how many more prototypes was he going to be force-fed before the summer ended?

Despite being a teenager with an excellent metabolism, Kouya never expected to find himself genuinely worrying about his weight.

☆

Though Kouya and Kiyoko had regularly helped out at Cassandra in bits and pieces before, they were officially drafted to man the shop in full force during summer vacation. Today in particular, since Jurou was at the hospital, the two of them were the de facto proxy managers.

"—Yes, certainly. We will deliver it to you immediately. Please wait just a moment."

Right as Kouya returned from serving a table, Kiyoko placed the receiver of the landline back on its hook. It seemed she had just finished taking a call from another customer.

"Kouya-kun, could you deliver this to Sakazaki-san's place?"

As Kouya walked up to her, Kiyoko shoved a leather wallet into his hands. "Sakazaki-san" was one of Cassandra's regulars.

"He forgot his wallet. I asked for his address, so please take care of it."

Handing him a memo pad, Kiyoko shooed Kouya out the door with zero room for debate. And just like that, she efficiently pawned off the incredibly tedious task of delivering a lost item to a customer's house onto Kouya.

A few hundred meters after leaving the shop to deliver the regular's lost item, Kouya stopped walking, opened the memo to check the address, and was instantly paralyzed by sheer horror.

"Head agaru from the Dontsuki at the intersection in front of Cassandra. The house with the red flowerbed."

Written in what was clearly Kiyoko's neat handwriting, the memo read exactly like that.

"What the hell is a Dontsuki?!"

Faced with a set of directions written in an indecipherable Kansai dialect code, Kouya let out a scream. There was no way he could reach his destination with a memo like this! The idea of getting lost in his own neighborhood because of a nonsensical memo written in hyper-local slang was no laughing matter.

However, he felt like he had heard terms like agaru (go up) and sagaru (go down) back when he lived in Kyoto.

————Remember, me! Remember your memories from Kyoto!!

Kouya desperately tried to trace back his childhood memories. But he couldn't pull them up on the spot. Asking him to vividly recall memories from when he was six years old was simply asking the impossible.

Rather than wasting time digging through his brain, the boy quickly realized the fundamental truth of the modern era—Googling it was way faster—and swiftly whipped out his smartphone.

The wonders of modern technology provided the truth long before the boy could remember a decade into the past.

Head agaru from the Dontsuki -> Correct Answer: Head North at the dead end.

Technically, going agaru or sagaru was based on the location of the Imperial Palace, but since Kiyoko's family home was south of the Palace, agaru would naturally mean heading north for her.

"Stop writing addresses in your local dialect!!"

Cursing Kiyoko under his breath, Kouya walked north from the dead end.

"Found it!"

And just as the memo promised, he gloriously discovered the Sakazaki residence with its red flowerbed.

Having somehow managed to reach the regular's house and return the forgotten wallet, Kouya swore an oath in his heart.

————I am absolutely going to give Kiyoko-san a piece of my mind!

"Kiyoko-san!"

Fuming with anger, Kouya threw open the door to Cafe Cassandra and marched straight toward Kiyoko. He fully intended to complain about the address on the memo.

But when he looked at her, Kiyoko's face was dead serious. An unpleasant, heavy atmosphere hung in the air of the cafe—the kind that only appears when a real problem has cropped up.

"? ...Did something happen while I was gone?"

Shelving his complaints for the time being, Kouya lowered his voice and asked her.

"There is a customer over there nursing a single cup of coffee, but his vibe is rather unsavory..."

Her brow furrowed, Kiyoko informed him. Following her gaze, Kouya spotted a blonde guy in his mid-twenties who looked like a total sleazeball playboy.

The blonde playboy was slouching lazily in his chair, smartphone in hand, speaking loudly to whoever was on the other end of the line—presumably a friend. He was speaking so loudly that the entire cafe could hear him. Apparently, the blonde playboy had multiple side pieces, and he was currently bragging at the top of his lungs about how he'd recently dumped one of them.

"Ah, that kind of nuisance customer..."

Forced to listen to a completely unsolicited story about women troubles, the surrounding customers all looked thoroughly annoyed. But because the guy looked like a bit of a delinquent and seemed intimidating, it was obvious no one wanted to risk warning him.

Kiyoko shook her head in resignation. "It cannot be helped. I shall go handle it."

Before Kouya could even stop her, Kiyoko grabbed a coffee pot and walked straight toward the blonde playboy. The playboy noticed her approaching and looked up. Holding the gently steaming pot of coffee, Kiyoko offered the nuisance customer a flawless customer service smile.

"Would you care for a refill, sir? (Translation: Please go home quickly.)"

It was the classic Kyoto bubuzuke—the cafe edition. If you did this in Kyoto, the polite and expected response was for the customer to realize they had overstayed their welcome, decline the refill, and head straight to the register to pay.

Unfortunately, they were in Asakusa, Tokyo. There was absolutely zero guarantee Kiyoko's Kyoto-style hint would work.

————Is that kind of phrasing actually going to work on a Kanto customer?!

Kouya swallowed hard, watching the playboy's reaction with bated breath.

"Oh, sweet. Thanks."

Exactly as Kouya feared, the blonde playboy completely missed Kiyoko's bubuzuke hint. He was in high spirits, happily preparing to accept the complimentary coffee refill.

————Total miss, Kiyoko-san.

Her mood instantly souring, Kiyoko's eyebrow twitched violently. But the nuisance blonde playboy completely failed to pick up on her subtle shift in demeanor. In fact, growing even bolder, the playboy reached out and grabbed Kiyoko's arm.

"Hey, what time do you get off your shift?"

"Excuse me?"

As Kiyoko stood there bewildered, the playboy pressed further without a shred of hesitation.

"I know a really good spot. Way more of a grown-up vibe than this place. Wanna come with me after you're done?"

—This was exactly what one would call "hitting on someone."

"————"

She had gone over to politely and indirectly kick a nuisance customer out, only to get relentlessly hit on instead. Faced with the customer's utterly unpredictable reaction, Kiyoko was struck dumb.

Watching the nuisance customer boldly execute his nuisance behavior, Kouya was also momentarily stunned. Even if he was a nuisance, the guy was still technically a customer. But there was no way he could just stand there and let this happen.

In the very next instant, without a second of hesitation, the boy stepped forward.

"Hey babe, are you from Osaka or somethin'? My ex-girlfriend was from Osaka too. Feisty as hell, she was. —Though you're way prettier than her."

"Um, excuse me—"

Before Kiyoko could even fire back, Kouya had wedged himself right between the two of them.

"Hey buddy, mind taking your hands off my girlfriend?" Kouya glared fiercely at the playboy and spat the words out.

"Girlfriend? Me? Kouya-kun's?" Kiyoko's eyes went wide at the sudden escalation.

"Whoa, whoa, babe. You seriously dating a boring-ass loser like this?" Completely ignoring Kiyoko's confusion, the playboy shot Kouya a mocking glare and sneered.

In that exact fraction of a second, the light vanished from Kiyoko's eyes.

"————"

SLAM! Kiyoko violently slammed the coffee pot she was holding right onto the playboy's table.

Coffee sloshed out of the pot from the impact. But the Kyoto girl looked like she couldn't care less.

"I will be the one to decide whether Kouya-kun is boring or not," Kiyoko smiled sweetly at the nuisance customer.

"Please refrain from spouting nonsense about things you know absolutely nothing about. Also, sir, you have a girlfriend, do you not? I accidentally caught a glimpse of the LINE app open on your screen earlier. It seems you enjoy playing around with a great many women, but I assume that specific girl is your main priority, yes? If you'd like, I would be more than happy to contact your girlfriend right now and inform her that you were hitting on me. How does that sound?"

It was Kiyoko's signature dark smile. She was smiling, but her eyes were dead. She was practically radiating an aura screaming do not test me.

The playboy's survival instincts clearly kicked in.

"...N-No, I'm good."

His cheeks twitching in terror, the blonde playboy backed away, snatched up his bill, hastily speed-walked to the register, and fled the cafe.

Watching him run away, Kouya felt a cold chill run down his spine. If it was Shizuishi Kiyoko, that wasn't an empty threat. She would have absolutely done it.

————Let sleeping Kiyokos lie.

The cowbell chimed as the nuisance customer exited the shop. Confirming he was gone, Kouya looked up at the ceiling, only for Kiyoko to suddenly collapse onto the floor right next to him.

"That was terrifying. I am so glad you came back early, Kouya-kun..."

"Haaaah?! You were scared?!"

Because she had seemed so bizarrely composed and in control, hearing that she was actually scared was a massive shock.

Still slumped on the floor, Kiyoko glanced up at Kouya.

"It was pure bluffing. I had no idea what I was going to do if he turned out to be genuinely dangerous. But well, I am far more accustomed to handling those types of customers, so there is no need for you to push yourself, Kouya-kun."

"I wasn't pushing myself!"

"Kouya-kun, you were ready to start a fistfight from the very beginning, were you not? Since things were guaranteed to turn violent if you stepped in, it is much better to resolve it with my bluffing if at all possible."

"............My bad." Half out of pathetic misery and half out of embarrassment, Kouya hung his head.

"What is the matter?"

"I stepped in 'cause I wanted to protect you. But it feels like I'm the one who got protected instead..." The boy averted his eyes awkwardly and muttered under his breath.

It was seriously so uncool. He was the one who had been protected. Kouya was fully pouting now, looking exactly like a sulky child.

"............"

He is so cute, she thought. But knowing that saying so would absolutely shatter Kouya's pride, Kiyoko swallowed the words right as they reached her throat.

Instead, the girl reached out and gently patted the boy's head, as if soothing a pet.

"Wha— Kiyoko-san—"

"I will gladly accept the feelings of the Kouya-kun who tried to protect me. —Thank you. I was actually quite happy."

"O-Oh." Hit with such an unexpected response, Kouya's reaction was delayed.

While he was desperately trying to figure out what to say next, Kiyoko walked right past him. And before he could stop her, she disappeared into the back of the shop.

"How the hell am I supposed to react to that...?" Left entirely alone, Kouya muttered in total bewilderment, his face burning bright red.

The conversation that led to them deciding to go to the fireworks festival started from some completely idle chatter during their shift.

"Wait, you've never been to Kinkaku-ji, Kiyoko-san?"

They had just happened to be talking about tourist spots when it came to light that Kiyoko had never actually visited the Golden Pavilion. Despite living in Kyoto her entire life, Shizuishi Kiyoko had never once set foot in the incredibly famous Kinkaku-ji.

A place so famous that not just every Japanese person, but practically every foreigner knew about it. And her family was literally in the tourism business, for crying out loud.

As Kouya stared at her in sheer disbelief, Kiyoko simply nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Indeed. I have handed maps to our guests and given them directions, but I have never gone there myself."

"Why not?"

"Why, you ask? Locals rarely ever visit their own local tourist traps. Though I did climb Mount Daimonji for a school field trip once. I doubt you visit Senso-ji all that often either, do you, Kouya-kun?"

"I go all the time. They got food stalls, and there's festivals and stuff."

"Ah, I suppose you do look like the type who loves festivals, Kouya-kun."

As Kiyoko nodded with absolute seriousness, Kouya shot her a deadpan look.

"...What kind of prejudice is 'looking like you love festivals'?"

"Don't you think your face simply screams 'I love festivals and fireworks'?"

"What the hell kind of face is that?!"

"A very Edokko face."

"What kind of prejudice even is that?!"

Kiyoko's assumptions were completely prejudiced and made zero sense, yet in a certain way, she had hit the nail right on the head. Because it was an objective fact that Kouya loved festivals. And he loved fireworks too.

Hmm, Kiyoko tilted her head. "Come to think of it, why is the place name read as Asakusa, but the temple is read as Senso-ji?"

"Beats me."

"You don't know, Kouya-kun?"

"Why would I know?"

"Did you not study local history in your social studies classes?"

"I don't remember any of that crap."

"When I was in elementary school, our classes made us research the Lake Biwa Canal endlessly."

"Why the hell were you researching Lake Biwa in Kyoto?"

"Not Lake Biwa, the canal that draws water from it."

"Oh right. The thing those guys from Shiga always threaten you Kyoto folks with, right? 'We'll shut off the water from Lake Biwa!'"

"The management rights to the canal belong to Kyoto, and the Seta River Weir falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, so the people of Shiga cannot simply 'shut off the water' on their own whim."

"Why are you defending this so passionately, Kiyoko-san...?"

"Therefore, the water drawn from Lake Biwa via the canal belongs entirely to Kyoto. The Lake Biwa Canal itself is Kyoto's property, after all."

"No, no, pretty sure the water in Lake Biwa belongs to Shiga."

"The Suez Canal belongs to Egypt, does it not? In that exact same vein, the water of Lake Biwa belongs to Kyoto, who owns the canal."

"............Wouldn't the people of Shiga Prefecture get seriously pissed off at that logic?"

"The Suez Canal was built by the Frenchman Ferdinand de Lesseps, yet the canal itself ultimately belongs to Egypt now."

"Why are we suddenly talking about the Suez Canal...?"

"Did you know the toll to pass through the Suez Canal is something like fifty million yen for a single container ship? I know the alternative is sailing all the way around the Cape of Good Hope, but that is simply highway robbery. Between the pyramids and the Suez Canal, the people of Egypt rely entirely too much on making a living off the corpses and legacies left behind by their predecessors."

"A person from Kyoto is saying that? You guys literally make your living off the oldest legacies in all of Japan, don't you?!"

"Egypt has a population of one hundred million, but nearly all of them live strictly along the Nile River basin. Did you know their population distribution is absolutely absurd?"

"Why are we still talking about Egypt?!"

"If you look at an aerial photograph of Egypt at night, the lights are truly astonishing."

"Forget about Egypt! Just apologize to the people of Shiga already!"

"Given that the only people present here are an Asakusa local and a Kyotoite, is there truly any need to show consideration for the people of Shiga?"

Hehe, Kiyoko smiled sweetly.

"Hey there, you two."

This entirely fruitless argument—which had managed to pick a fight with both Egypt and Shiga Prefecture—was suddenly interrupted by Jurou, who walked in holding brown envelopes.

"Grandpa, what's up?"

As Kouya looked at him with lingering dissatisfaction from the argument, Jurou handed him a brown envelope.

"? What's this?"

Ignoring Kouya's furrowed brow, Jurou handed a second brown envelope to Kiyoko.

"And this one is for you, Kiyoko-san."

"Thank you very much. What is this?"

"Well, open them up and see."

"Oh, there's a ten thousand yen bill in here."

When Kouya opened his envelope, he found a crisp ten thousand yen note tucked inside. It suddenly clicked in his mind—back when he'd complained about their minimum-wage pay, Kiyoko had mentioned she would negotiate with Jurou for a bonus.

Action without words, huh.

Holding her brown envelope, Kiyoko looked up at Jurou. "Are you sure it is alright for us to accept this?"

"You both always work so hard for me, after all."

"What should I use it for..."

Faced with this unexpected stroke of luck, Kouya pondered his options.

"Since you've got the chance, why don't the two of you go see the fireworks together?"

Looking at his overjoyed grandchildren, their grandfather offered a completely casual suggestion.

"Fireworks?"

Kouya blinked.

"You two were just talking about them, weren't you?" Jurou pointed out.

It seemed his grandfather’s suggestion was born from the simple fact that he had been eavesdropping on their conversation. In truth, they had been getting much more worked up over Egypt and Lake Biwa than any fireworks, but regardless, Jurou ushered his grandchildren along.

"The Sumida River Fireworks Festival happens to be tonight. You should go."

"..."

Kouya and Kiyoko exchanged a look.

The entire premise of their earlier conversation had evolved from a debate over whether or not locals actually bothered visiting their own local tourist traps. Given the timing, deciding to just go on a whim didn't seem like a bad idea. In fact, without an excuse like this, they probably wouldn't have ever bothered venturing out into the crushing crowds of a local fireworks festival in the first place.

"Let's just wander around the riverbanks and watch 'em from Senso-ji Temple or something," Kouya said.

"Would there even be anywhere to spend our money doing that?"

"We can buy some shaved ice at a street stall, at least."

And so, it was decided that Kiyoko and Kouya would be attending the Sumida River Fireworks Festival.

"Kouya, if you're going to the festival, make sure you look up the traffic regulations first. You'll get caught in a massive gridlock if you aren't careful," the cafe owner—a true local—advised his grandchildren as a parting thought.

—Evening.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Dressed in a yukata, Kiyoko emerged from the back of the shop, slipping her transit IC card into a small drawstring pouch. She wore a cool-toned yukata adorned with a large floral crest pattern, her hair pinned up into an elegant updo just above the nape of her neck.

"..."

The sight robbed Kouya of his words.

Seeing Kiyoko in traditional Japanese clothing for the first time in ages left a profound impression on the tiger-eyed boy. It suited her far more naturally than Western clothes or her school uniform. It felt right—or rather, it felt like this was how things were always meant to be.

"Is something the matter?"

Perhaps finding it strange that he had suddenly gasped and fallen silent, Kiyoko tilted her head.

"S-Su..."

"Su?"

Looking at her puzzled expression, Kouya blurted out the words that naturally bubbled up from the bottom of his heart.

"You look freaking gorgeous!!"

It was an entirely honest, heartfelt impression, but Kiyoko couldn't quite bring herself to just be happy about it.

"..."

—I feel like this exact thing has happened before. It was exactly like that time she had rejoiced at being called pretty, only to realize he was talking about the flowers. She wasn't going to be fooled twice. Paranoia swirling in her chest, Kiyoko shot a quick glance at the tables inside the cafe.

Right next to her sat a vase filled with white roses. She was absolutely certain Kouya was praising the flowers.

"These are white roses, you see. Roses last a wonderfully long time, so even if they seem expensive at first glance, they are quite cost-effective in the long run."

"Uh, no, when I said "gorgeous," I wasn't talking about the flowers, I meant you, Kiyoko-san..."

Apparently, this time, the compliment was actually meant for her.

"..."

Well, if that's the case, I suppose I'll let him flatter me, Kiyoko decided. After a brief pause, she allowed herself to act blatantly bashful.

"Oh, my. Flattery will get you nowhere, you know. (Translation: You may praise me more. I'll allow it.)"

Cheeks flushed red, Kiyoko broke into a soft, happy smile, thoroughly pleased with herself. And so, Shizuishi Kiyoko successfully exacted her revenge for the flower arrangement incident from the other day.

After that little scene, the two left Cassandra and stepped out into the throngs of people heading toward the festival. Unsurprisingly, it was insanely crowded outside.

People, people, and more people.

The pedestrian zones were already overflowing. As if Tokyo wasn't densely populated enough, tonight, masses of people were converging on this exact spot just to catch a glimpse of the fireworks. The population density was absolutely absurd.

Kiyoko and Kouya walked briskly to avoid getting separated.

Thump. Someone's shoulder slammed into Kiyoko's.

"Eek!"

The girl let out a small shriek and tumbled onto the asphalt.

"Whoa! You okay, Kiyoko-san?!"

Panicking, Kouya reached out a hand.

"I am perfectly fine."

Kiyoko answered instantly.

"I might have twisted my ankle just a bit, but it's nothing I can't walk off. There's no problem at all."

"Are you sure? If it gets worse, you won't even be able to call a cab with all these traffic restrictions."

"I assure you, I am fine. Come now, we must hurry, or there won't be any spots left to watch the fireworks."

Kiyoko straightened the disheveled hem of her yukata, hastily stood up, and started walking ahead of him.

—However.

Long before they reached their destination, her pace began to gradually slow down.

"..."

Kouya overtook her and then stopped in his tracks. Kiyoko looked up at her housemate with a troubled expression.

"Kouya-kun..."

"Your foot hurts, doesn't it."

Kouya looked down at her quietly, but with a firm gaze that made it clear he wouldn't accept a lie. The girl in the yukata looked down, averting her eyes. A single lock of black hair slipped down her sweat-dampened cheek and rested against her neck.

"That isn't necessarily the case..."

"It hurts, right?" Kouya pressed, his tone resolute.

"..."

Kiyoko's eyes darted around nervously before she finally let out a tiny, quiet murmur.

"...Yes."

"I've always had a bad habit of letting my own pride backfire on me. My mother always told me never to whine in front of guests, and that no matter how grueling things got, I had to keep smiling..."

Keeping her eyes downcast, Kiyoko slowly began to speak about her upbringing.

"Sometimes I'm just not very good at navigating things, and whenever that happens, everything I do just makes it worse..."

—Just like this. Sitting on the grassy bank of the river, Kiyoko rubbed her right foot. The zouri sandal she had been wearing just moments ago sat carelessly discarded by her feet. Her right ankle was swelling rapidly; she was in absolutely no condition to walk.

"Don't push yourself so hard," Kouya said strictly.

Kiyoko wasn't entirely sure what he was warning her about. Was he talking about her ankle right now, or her entire way of life?

"...I suppose. But taking it easy is surprisingly difficult," she sighed, a troubled look on her face.

"Just be honest with yourself. Stop being so stubborn."

"You say that so easily... even after I just told you how difficult it is for me..."

Seeing Kouya answer with such deadpan sincerity, Kiyoko couldn't help but crack a smile.

Wondering what to do next, Kouya scratched his head and looked around. "We should probably get you a cold compress or something. If I run to a convenience store or a pharmacy—"

"Somebody! Catch Koro!!"

Kouya's sentence was cut off by a woman's scream.

"Koro?"

What the heck is a Koro? Kouya frowned. Just then, he caught sight of a Shiba Inu—previously accompanied by a husband, wife, and child—charging directly toward them in a mad dash.

The dog had a collar and a leash attached, but no one was holding the other end. It was a runaway.

Woof! Woof! The unleashed Shiba barreled toward them, snapped its jaws around the zouri sandal Kiyoko had left by her feet, and executed a magnificent leap.

"Huh?!"

The sheer absurdity of the situation made Kouya let out a remarkably dumb sound. For a split second, he couldn't even process what had just happened.

—A random Shiba Inu just stole Kiyoko's sandal. By the time he realized it, the sprinting dog was already bolting like a frightened rabbit—or rather, a frightened dog—sandal in mouth, vanishing into the crowd.

The two were left utterly dumbfounded.

A second later, Kouya snapped out of it and frantically chased after the dog.

"Wait, you thieving mutt!—Kiyoko-san, I'm gonna get your zouri back, so wait right there!"

Barking an order at Kiyoko, Kouya instantly took off after the Shiba, but unfortunately, the beast was fast.

"Sorry, coming through! Move!"

He just couldn't catch up to the nimble dog darting through the dense crowd.

"Dammit! Who the hell brings a dog to a fireworks festival anyway, you morons?! A dog's hearing is like, four times better than a human's! Depending on the dog, the sound of fireworks is basically torture!!"

Running out of sheer desperation, Kouya cursed the careless owners.

—Then. Right in front of a grilled squid stall by the river, he spotted the Shiba Inu, zouri still in its mouth, wagging its tail.

"You stupid mutt! Gotcha!"

Kouya lunged from behind. The moment he grabbed the runaway dog, it startled and barked.

"Ah."

The instant it opened its jaws, the zouri tumbled down the riverbank and, with a soft plop, fell right into the Sumida River.

"..."

Right before Kouya's eyes, Kiyoko's sandal was mercilessly swept away, swallowed by the river's current.

All the tiger-eyed boy could do was stare blankly as the sandal drifted entirely out of sight.

—Spilled water never returns to the tray. A washed-away sandal never returns to the shore.

"I am truly so sorry," Kiyoko whispered into Kouya's ear, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"Nah, it was the dog's fault. Or rather, the fault of the idiot owners who brought a dog to a fireworks show," Kouya replied.

He was walking away from the festival, carrying Kiyoko on his back, moving against the flow of the crowd toward home. While everyone else was eagerly waiting for the fireworks to start, the boy was piggybacking the girl away from the venue.

Without a sandal and nursing a sprained ankle, if they casually waited until the fireworks ended, they would be absolutely crushed by the crowd on the way back. It was clearer than day that the congestion would hit its peak once the show concluded. As disappointing as it was, giving up on the festival was the smartest move.

Kiyoko let out a heavy sigh. "I caused you so much trouble just because I sprained my ankle."

"I should've stopped you sooner. I already knew you're the type to push yourself too far."

"...What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's the truth, ain't it?"

"I suppose... But we were so close to seeing the fireworks. What a shame..."

"There's always next year. We'll just get our revenge then."

"...You're right. Let's make sure we watch them properly next year."

Kiyoko tightened the arms she had wrapped around Kouya's neck. Then, she whispered to him.

"Be sure to invite me again next year.—It's a promise."

He could feel Kiyoko's breath tickling his ear.

The moment his heart skipped a beat at the warmth of her body—

BOOM! With a thunderous roar, a firework shot up into the sky behind them.

Kouya stopped and looked over his shoulder. With Kiyoko still on his back, they looked up at the night sky and watched as brilliant sparks painted trails of light across the darkness before raining down.

"...We got to see them just a little bit. It's the best seat in the house, up here on your back, Kouya-kun."

Kiyoko let out a soft chuckle.

Kouya turned his back to the fireworks and started walking again.

"I can't see 'em from here, but you go ahead. I'll save my excitement for next year."

With Kiyoko on his back, facing away from the sky, Kouya picked up his pace.

"...What a disaster of a day."

Carrying his housemate like luggage, the boy muttered under his breath. Then, he quietly added:

"But I guess... memories like this aren't so bad either."

Even accidents turn into good memories once enough time passes. In fact, things going horribly wrong and leaving you frustrated tends to stick in your memory way more than things going perfectly smooth.

That was why—

He was sure he would never forget this night for the rest of his life.

Still, it was a strange feeling. Even though they hadn't gotten to watch the fireworks properly, he didn't feel disappointed at all. If anything, he felt kind of refreshed. Instead of regret, he felt a vague, lingering desire to one day take Kiyoko to his own special, favorite place—somewhere they wouldn't even have to do anything at all.

Yeah, they didn't need a goal.

He just wanted to zone out with her and listen to the sound of the wind, the rustling trees, or the falling rain.

—Oh. That's it. Suddenly, it dawned on Kouya.

In the end, he hadn't cared about the fireworks at all. He hadn't cared what the excuse was.

Simply being with her—the time spent with Shizuishi Kiyoko—that was what truly mattered.