Chapter Text
2016
Festivals ceased to be exciting for Yūta many years ago. Seeing a colorful poster or flyer advertising one of those events was a reminder of another experience he would never relive. He preferred not to dwell on the fun moments of his childhood, those he would never experience again in this life.
During those festive days, the darkness and loneliness of his room grew increasingly dense and oppressive. He felt only guilt for wanting—selfishly—to be illuminated by the bright light in the gloom that was his life.
Desiring something different from his reality only made him feel more miserable.
2017
"Hey, you're going to trip if you don't watch where you're going."
Along with the warning (or was it a scolding?), the sleeve of his yukata was gently tugged, pulling him toward the owner of the voice, his companion. For a moment, Yūta felt his grip on what he was holding weaken.
"Sorry, Maki-san."
"Just don't get distracted. If you fall, that will be beyond repair."
By that, she meant the food she was carrying in one hand. The boy smiled at her, a little nervously. With her warning, it was as if his hands suddenly felt slippery. It must be the perspiration from both the still-warm food and the relentless heat of that night. It was the middle of summer, after all. Whatever the reason, he couldn't afford an accident, so he tried to be more careful and follow Maki.
They moved through the crowd, careful not to bump into each other or get lost, as they searched for specific food stalls. They took turns guiding each other by holding each other's yukata sleeves, careful not to pull too far and cause an accident.
At first, this «guiding» measure had made him a little nervous, because, while it could be said that the aversion (on her part) and intimidation (Maki had given him a terrifying first impression) between him and the girl had long since faded, Yūta still didn't dare call her «friend.» Not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't want to get carried away thinking that way about her when she might not like it. And although he was getting used to the physical closeness offered by their rigorous training (where their bodies were in close contact), Maki's casual touch was unexpected and made him uneasy. That's why it felt strange at first when she grabbed the fabric of his sleeve: «You're sure to get lost,» she said in a mocking and exasperated tone, not leaving it as a question. It was undoubtedly her lack of faith in him that left Yūta silent and embarrassed, not the smug smile on her face.
"Let's see... yakisoba and takoyaki, four servings. Dangos for that idiot Satoru, Panda's cotton candy, taiyaki, and now okonomiyaki, let's go!"
"Maki-san, the drinks..."
"Right! Hum..." She looked for the okonomiyaki stall, then one of the drinks. Noticing it wasn't in sight, she thought about it for a moment. "It would be better if we split up. Yūta, you get the food, I'll get the drinks. Will you be okay carrying all that?"
"Y-yes..."
Maki sighed, a little annoyed.
"Ugh, this is all too much for the two of us! Toge should have at least come and helped carry it! Just because he can't order food doesn't mean his arms can't handle this! And Satoru, useless, leaves it to his students. What do they think we are?!"
Yūta laughed nervously at Maki's annoyed outburst, not wanting to say much about it. As the girl had said, the two of them had been chosen to provide the snacks that evening. And that was because, of the four students, one was a two-meter-tall panda who walked on two legs, and the other only communicated using onigiri ingredients. And then there was their teacher, and he, well... «I'll pay for everything, so you two will be the errand children,» he had said, and Maki's blood boiled at the memory of his nonchalant tone as he clapped his hands together in a «pronto-pronto» gesture.
"Adults should be role models, not unpleasant ones."
"But it's true that Sensei is paying for everything. We're here thanks to him, too."
"Paying is the least he should do. He's the adult. Wouldn't it be ridiculous for me to do it? Besides, nobody asked to come to this festival. It's all his whim, like always when he's bored."
Yūta didn't want to try to dissuade her, since Maki was stubborn, something he discovered shortly after he enrolled at the school. Although the girl was someone who could see her mistakes and accept them, there were opinions she didn't seem willing to change. While it could be seen as a flaw, Yūta found it admirable not to doubt one's own beliefs.
He recalled how the events that had led them there had unfolded. That morning, Gojo had interrupted their lunch break to announce a super important outing. At first, Yūta thought it was a mission, but his teacher's jovial smile and what he was carrying caused some confusion: at first glance, he assumed it was some fabric, but the colors and patterns indicated it was traditional clothing, a bit of a contrast to their uniforms, and that already told him it wasn't for a mission.
«Field research. It's also important that you see firsthand the cultural significance of the traditions of our honorable land.»
As he delivered his speech with passion, he handed each student their corresponding garment, except for Panda. Upon unfolding it slightly, Yūta realized it was a yukata. With a dramatic tone, Gojo finished his speech.
«Be ready at four o'clock. Our destination is Asakusa!»
Yūta couldn't remember how many years it had been since he'd last attended a festival. He tried to keep his excitement in check, but it seemed to be overflowing.
At first, he worried about Rika showing up and was unsure how to control her, but his teacher dispelled that fear. His confidence and his classmates' support helped him relax.
They arrived before sunset. The heavy, stifling heat hadn't lessened with the night. In fact, it lingered, due to the sea of people at the stalls, in the streets, and everywhere he looked, really. Due to the time they arrived in Asakusa, they couldn't find a free spot to settle in, but that wasn't a problem for Satoru, who, with a smile, informed them that he had a VIP spot for them. It turned out to be the rooftop of a building a few blocks away from the festival area. It was fine for them; they would have a spectacular view, and it wouldn't be a problem for Panda. Even Yūta himself felt relieved to avoid a potential risk.
"Hey, are you okay?" was the first thing Maki asked him when he reached her side with the drinks.
"Uh, yeah, I just..."
"Why are you hesitant to speak?"
Yūta felt embarrassed. Although Maki wasn't as brusque and intimidating as she had been the first day, he still found it difficult to interact with her with the same familiarity and ease as she did. How did Maki have that ease? For his part, he had spent so many years locked away, afraid of others, of hurting them, and of being hurt himself, that he wasn't able to let go so easily.
"Give me that." Maki took part of the load his companion was carrying and, to his utter surprise and near shock—his voice almost erupting into a loud exclamation—Maki grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him away from the stalls and the crowds.
They walked quite a way until, little by little, the stalls began to dwindle, as did the flow of people. Not far from the riverbank, only the lanterns illuminated the somewhat deserted place; this was the route back to their companions and teacher. They only had to walk for a few minutes, but Maki suddenly stopped at the bottom of some steps. The boy looked at her, confused.
"Um, Maki-san, what—"
"If something bothers you, you should say so. Staying silent and ignoring the pain won't make it go away, you know?"
Ah, she noticed. Embarrassed, he looked at the floor, at the spot she had pointed to. Maki sighed in exasperation, and at that, anguish gripped Yūta because he knew he was disappointing her. His feet felt a little swollen, but more than anything, each step seemed to weigh more than the last. The sandal strap irritated him and only got worse with every scrape as he walked. A pitiful sigh escaped him.
It's hard to be honest, to say what you think and how you feel. Not wanting to bother others, ashamed of being pitied...
Again, Maki sighed, but said nothing more. She was aware of what Yūta was carrying, and saying everything on her mind wouldn't do much good, since he wasn't feeling well to begin with. Ah, that irritated her about him; his vulnerable side reminded her of her own.
She placed the bag of food she was carrying on a step and then sat down on another.
"So? Are you going to stand there or sit down?"
The boy slowly raised his gaze from the ground until it met hers, and although Maki was sitting, it was as if he were looking up at her. For a moment, the image of a scolded, pitiful puppy flashed before her.
Huh? Was it a little annoying, but somehow funny? How strange.
"But is it okay? The others are waiting for us to come back..."
"It'll only be a minute. These things are annoying," she gestured to the pair of geta, "and we've been standing in lines for ages, going back and forth." They must have been sitting down since then, so waiting won't kill them.
Yūta considered it for a moment and, a little hesitant and still uncertain, slowly sat down a step below her. His feet ached, and he was truly exhausted, so when he could finally rest for a moment, relief came quickly. That was alright, wasn't it? She said so.
The rustling of plastic wrappers caught his attention, and looking over his shoulder, he saw Maki rummaging through the food bag. Immediately, the delicious aroma of yakisoba enveloped them. Even though food stalls had surrounded them, the aroma was more intense now, probably because they were far away and it wasn't mingling with other scents.
"Ah, I'm starving," Maki said before taking a bite, and her enjoyment was so obvious that Yūta could see her eyes sparkle despite the dim light.
Yūta suppressed a smile. He didn't find pleasure in food, but seeing how much she enjoyed it piqued his curiosity. He still didn't fully understand what that feeling was, but the energy and good mood it gave him were undeniable.
Not long after, the girl continued rummaging until she placed a container in Yūta's hands.
"Is this okay?"
"Hey, it tastes better when it's hot. Otherwise, it gets soggy and mushy. Come on."
Encouraged by her, Yūta did as she said. As soon as he opened the lid, delicate steam accompanied the aroma. He hadn't felt hungry until a moment ago, but as soon as his senses caught the delicious smell of okonomiyaki, it was inevitable. He took the hera, the small spatula for cutting it, and began to eat. The temperature was medium, and, as Maki had said, it tasted delicious. One bite, then another, his mouth barely full, his cheeks puffed out with food, didn't stop him from chewing with gusto.
A laugh broke his concentration, shifting his attention from his food to the person sitting a step above him. Maki laughed, and he didn't understand. The subtle tilt of his head provoked another round of less controlled laughter. Yūta chewed more slowly, unable to ask what was so amusing.
"Ah, how unexpected," Maki said after her laughter subsided, but the smile that remained was sly, a little arrogant but amused, though her always sharp gaze retained some of its fierceness; this time it wasn't hostile, but rather relaxed. "It seems you were the hungrier one."
The confusion that hadn't dissipated in the young sorcerer was overshadowed by embarrassment. Ah, he thought, Maki-san was making fun of me. Even knowing this, he didn't feel bad. Sure, he was self-conscious (maybe he was eating improperly, behaving rudely, or making too much noise or a funny face), so a hint of shame colored his face. But there was no malice behind Maki's laughter nor disdain in her gaze.
Since transferring to that school, the teasing—if he could even call it that—was never malicious. It wasn't meant to hurt or humiliate him, just to laugh along with him. Panda was the most likely to do it, but he enjoyed it at everyone's expense, and Inumaki usually played along. Maki, though she didn't initiate the teasing, was more expressive, and her emotions were just as intense as her personality. Therefore, it was noticeable when she laughed with genuine joy and enthusiasm... it wasn't just the sound of her laughter that came from her chest, an honest, clear sound, but also the sparkle in her eyes that lingered even after she stopped laughing, like a soft, shimmering afterglow.
He realized he was taking a while to answer and, strangely, felt an urge to look away.
"It's because it tastes so good. I can't remember the last time I had such delicious okonomiyaki."
"That good?" Maki mimicked him playfully, her smile revealing a dimple in her right cheek. He hadn't noticed it before. Speechless for a moment, unable to pinpoint the reason, Yūta nodded mechanically. At that, Maki leaned slightly toward him, and Yūta almost leaned to the other side, but the unexpected closeness confused him so much that he froze. "Let me try."
Taking the small spatula, Maki tilted her face slightly toward the plate and brought a small piece to her mouth. Yūta's gaze lingered on her for a fraction of a second longer, but he immediately looked away, not wanting to be rude by staring at her.
"Oh, you're right, it's quite good," Maki said. Out of the corner of his eye, Yūta saw her straighten up as she covered her lips with one hand and chewed the food. "Here, try this too."
She offered him some from her plate, and again Yūta was surprised by her gesture. He had never shared food with anyone before, maybe with his sister, but he couldn't remember for sure. But for Maki to do it, and so naturally… a mixture of emotions washed over him: happiness, sadness, gratitude, excitement, and…
Hmph!
The noodles were in his mouth. Maki had grown tired of waiting, or perhaps she hadn't planned on receiving a refusal from him and had anticipated it. Either way, she pushed the food to his mouth, and Yūta quickly picked up the chopsticks, chewing as he did so. The spicy flavor, the texture, and the aroma quickly filled his senses, melting his thoughts. Yūta wasn't a fan of that kind of food, but he couldn't help but feel his taste buds melt. It was truly delicious!
Yūta hadn't known that food could be so delicious as to bring such happiness. The warmth of that night, the company beside him, the sound of her laughter...
"Oh, fireworks."
Looking toward the horizon, at the reflection in the river, they saw the change in the sky. Colorful ribbons stretched in various directions, illuminating what had previously been pure darkness. Suppressing all surrounding noise, only the whistling of their launch and the crackling of their explosions in the distance. Yūta stared intently, eyes wide, taking in every detail, every color, and every shape. It was a memorable sight... the way the different twinkling lights managed to fill the darkness that had surrounded them...
"Oh, that one's huge!"
Maki's face, usually displaying defiant, grumpy, amused, or sarcastic expressions, was softer this time. As she gazed intently at the sky, her features were illuminated by the lights that spread across it. Bright sparkles shone in her eyes, just as her skin glowed with the same colors, and, with a thought he managed to suppress before voicing it, Yūta realized he had stopped watching the fireworks.
It was special, he acknowledged, and briefly held his breath. He felt the urge to clutch the fabric covering his chest.
That moment, the feeling it evoked in him, and the tingling in his heart... That was happiness, wasn't it? He recognized it because he'd felt this way for some time, but in that moment, the feeling was stronger.
He looked back up at the sky, at the vast darkness finally being reached by the beauty of the lights blooming before them. With a smile on his lips and eyes shining with excitement, his voice firm and honest, Yūta said,
"Beautiful."