Chapter 5: Liftoff

Chapter 5:
Liftoff

 

EVERYTHING I’D WRITTEN DOWN was about Shimamura, so I called them my Shimamura Notes—short and to the point. Now I was preparing to add a new entry, and as my brain churned at the speed of light, I could feel the birth of a new sun taking place behind my eyes.

What did people do at summer festivals? I had very limited experience as an attendee. Frankly, I had “very limited experience” in most things; this was something I had become painfully aware of ever since I met Shimamura. And although I was trying to learn the ropes, I never managed to catch up in time. Instead, I fumbled my way through every crisis like the idiot I was.

Back on topic: festivals. What was the best way to get maximum enjoyment from one? Buy food from a food stand and watch fireworks? Hold hands and talk? What else? I couldn’t think of anything.

But after a few days of mulling it over during my free time, I realized I was getting my hopes up way too high. It was just a festival; all we’d do is walk through it together. Granted, it would still be a lot of fun, but I needed to make sure I wasn’t setting myself up for major disappointment afterward. As long as we smiled and ate food and watched the pretty fireworks, that was enough.

With that conclusion reached, I closed the notebook. If I let myself overthink this, I was only gonna screw it up. Instead, it might be nice to play it by ear without worrying too much. My past failures rose up in my mind one after another…and as I clutched my head and writhed, I could feel the sleeves of my yukata brushing against my skin.

After many, many attempts to get my outfit to cooperate, I was now dressed and ready to go, but there was still plenty of time before we were scheduled to meet up.

Outside my window, I could see the sun slowly wilting like a flower, pulling the blue sky along with it, its last few rays shining into my room. Once upon a time, the end of each day felt like merciful relief to me, but that was in the past, before I met Shimamura. Now that I was a different person, the setting sun sent a shiver down my spine.

My gaze darted restlessly from the window to the clock and back. Before long, I decided to forego the torture of sitting around in my room and head out to the meetup spot instead. Story of my life.

Before I left, I stood in front of the mirror and examined myself one last time. I had to look up instruction videos online to figure out how to tie my sash, so hopefully it looked okay. I turned from side to side, scrutinizing its position on my waist.

What about my hair? I wondered, grabbing a fistful. I hadn’t styled it, and now that I was gearing up to leave, I was starting to second-guess myself. But every attempt at a different style looked like trash, so I kept putting it back, and I could already tell I was going to stand here forever if I didn’t stop myself. Better to play it safe, I figured.

But as I stepped out into the hall, I could see a shadow…and it wasn’t my own.

“Oh, my.”

I had inadvertently crossed paths with my mother, who had finally come home from God knows where. She seemed surprised to see me in a yukata. We both tensed up, our movements stiff and reactive, like we were bound by invisible string.

“Going out?”

I nodded at the floor, my head bobbing lifelessly. “Yeah.”

My stomach churned. I wanted nothing more than to flee. Please hurry up and go away now. None of these were things I was meant to feel toward my family… Sometimes I had to wonder why she gave birth to me at all. With my face downturned, I moved to walk past her.

“You’ll look tacky with your hair down. Want me to braid it?”

At first, I thought I must have misheard. It was just so far-fetched. Meanwhile, she looked back at me, every bit as uncomfortable as I was. Then, finally, her suggestion sank in, and I remembered that this woman was technically my mother. My fingers curled into a tiny, tight fist.

“Okay.”

She started walking, and I followed after her, both of us silent. I was intensely nervous, but not the same way I was around Shimamura. There was no electrical current running through my body—just constricting tension.

As I sat down in front of the mirror, I felt a weight press down on my shoulders. Likewise, my mother squinted timidly as she ran a comb through my hair. I nearly made eye contact with her reflection, but I hastily averted my gaze just in time. It was so unnerving, I could hardly breathe. Was this what “family” felt like for everyone? I hardly ever spoke to her, so I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you going with friends?” she asked suddenly as she picked up a hair tie.

“Ye…” I mumbled, barely audible. Then I cleared my throat and tried again, more firmly: “Yeah.”

In the mirror, our eyes met for the first time in who knows how long.

“That’s nice,” she replied absently, averting her gaze, her body language matching mine. After that, she worked on my hair in silence until at last it was done. “There. Will that do?”

I touched my new side braid and nodded. “Yeah.” Not like I could possibly tell her otherwise. I could still feel the tension in the air as I rose to my feet and headed to the door. Then I stepped into the geta sandals I’d bought specifically for this occasion and awkwardly grasped the door handle.

“Come home safe,” her voice called after me, giving me a little push out the door. But when I looked over my shoulder, my mother had already disappeared into her bedroom.

I was so startled, I nearly tripped over my own two feet. As I straightened up, I could feel a response in the back of my throat…but instead, all I managed was a limp wave down the empty hallway.

I didn’t expect this to be the start of anything new. I knew it was too late for that. But maybe…just maybe…I was allowed to like it a tiny bit. Maybe now I could hold my head up high.

Out of habit, I grabbed my bike key before I left, but on second thought, I wouldn’t be needing it tonight. At some point, I’d lost the charm that used to hang from my keychain, but I hadn’t noticed until now—probably because I was always so focused on Shimamura. But even if my choices cost me something along the way, I would never regret choosing her. Right now, I firmly believed that I was making progress.

As I walked down the street, my gait grew lighter and lighter. So what if I was practically skipping? It was the night of the festival, and my spirits were high.

 

***

 

“Dooga shaka, dooga shaka! Vroom, vrooooom!”

Do you really have to make those noises while you do this?

Now that the sun was setting, the cicadas had fallen still. This was supposed to be the most peaceful time of day. And yet there we were in front of the vanity, my mother making weird sounds as she did my hair. I regret ever agreeing to this.

“Been a while since I last messed with your head, eh?”

“I think you mean ‘with my hair,’ Mom. Leave my head alone.” Unless you’re gonna magically make me smarter. But knowing you, you’ll probably tinker around in there like it’s a Lego set.

“Last time I did this for you, it was your junior high school graduation ceremony,” she mused, pausing to place her hands on my head. “And now you’re getting taller.”

“Have I?”

“Oh, my baby’s gotten so huge…”

Big, Mom. The word is “big.” So much for our heartwarming family moment.

“All right, what if we swirl your hair in a spiral on top? Here’s the windup—”

“Stop playing around!”

“Tsk… Fiiiine, I’ll do something normal,” she grumbled like a sulky child.

Next time I’m just gonna do my own hair…if there even is a next time.

The end result: a perfectly ordinary bun. I examined myself in the mirror and decided I was pretty satisfied. “Yeah, that’s good enough.”

“Good enough? Whatever. Gimme.”

She held out her hand, palm up. I looked down at it in confusion.

“Thanks for coming to the Shimamura Salon. That’ll be 3,000 yen.”

“Ha ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Hah hah hah!”

“Gah ha ha ha!”

But she refused to retract her hand. I shook my head in disbelief. And in the end, I caved. “Just, uh, put it on my tab.”

“You got it.”

And then she literally wrote it down. Wow, you’re really committed to this gag, huh? …It is just a gag, right, Mom? I decided to pretend I didn’t notice.

Next, I wanted to double-check my yukata. It wasn’t one that Yashiro or my sister had borrowed—it was white with a sunflower pattern and a blood-orange sash.

“You sure have a lot of these, huh?”

“Got ’em from Mom. Speaking of which, is it true you two are pen pals now?” she asked as she cleaned the stray hairs out of the comb.

“Oh, yeah. She sends me pics and videos of Gon,” I replied, playing with my bangs.

“Ah, the dog. Right,” she murmured absently. Then her tone shifted abruptly. “If his health starts failing, you should go out there and look after him.”

I turned and looked over my shoulder at her.

“I’m happy to drive you,” she continued casually, comb in hand.

“……”

“Hey! I can see you thinking rude thoughts about me! Look, I promise not to get mad, so just tell it to me straight.”

“…I was surprised to hear you sounding like an actual mother for a change.”

“Keeyoooo!” She started making weird noises again, but at the very least, she didn’t seem angry. Good grief, what a weirdo.

I checked my hair one last time, then left the room, where I promptly encountered my little sister speed-walking down the hall.

“Ooh, you’re wearing a yukata!”

She rushed over to me. Quietly, I began to dread what was going to happen next. Not like I could avoid my own sister at my own house, but ideally I was hoping to slip out while she was distracted.

“Are you going to another festival?”

“A friend invited me, so, yeah.”

“Hmmm…”

She did not look pleased about this. I half-expected her to start demanding I take her with me. But Adachi wasn’t Tarumi; she simply wasn’t capable of tolerating a third (or fourth) wheel. Not that my sister seemed to like Adachi all that much anyway. And festivals are for having fun, not fights.

As I smiled stiffly, searching for a way out of this…

“All right then, how about you and I go together?” my mother offered to her, popping out of the bedroom like a life raft in the nick of time. Somewhere in that thoughtfulness, I caught a glimpse of Grandma.

“Really? You’ll take me?”

“I’m acting like a real mom today!”

So you admit you’re a bad mom the rest of the time?

Laughing, I rolled my eyes, but I wasn’t annoyed at all. Likewise, my sister grinned up at her, delighted by the rare treat. It was actually a really nice moment, and while I don’t think I could explain it eloquently, part of me wished it would last forever.

“How very exciting,” said a head of blue hair that sprouted out from behind my sister. As usual, Yashiro was an utter enigma.

 

***

 

A pale pink flower-patterned yukata with a pale purple sash. Compared to everyone else who passed me on the street, I felt like I still looked tacky…or was I just paranoid? I had rushed out to buy this yukata immediately following the phone call with Shimamura, and I hadn’t paid much attention to the pattern at the time, but now I was having doubts.

Maybe I should have asked her if she had any requests. Wait, but wouldn’t that make me her dress-up doll?

I pictured Shimamura undressing me. Spreading me open like a fish. Wait, what?

“God, I’m so stupid…!” I buried my face in my hands in shame. If I wasn’t in public, I’d probably be writhing right about now.

Our meetup spot was located just outside the hotel on the way to the fireworks venue. Apparently, the place was booked full of tourists, because groups of people in yukatas kept trickling out of the building and heading out to the river. The whole riverbank was now covered in visitors awaiting the fireworks…or at least, that was what people were saying online when I checked. But I didn’t care about the fireworks. The prettiest thing I’d see tonight was going to be right beside me.

Is she here yet? Is she here yet? I glanced back down the street the way I’d come, scanning for any sign of her.

As the sunset faded, the town descended into the dark of night. The road was now a river of shadow, the pedestrians floating along like Bon Festival lanterns. But no matter how crowded the sidewalks grew, I was confident I would be able to spot Shimamura a mile away.

This festival wasn’t as large as the one where I helped run the food stand, but nonetheless, I could feel excitement in the air. The people of this town took these events very seriously—possibly because there simply wasn’t much else going on. Were they eager to see the fireworks? Or were they more interested in their companions? In my case, it probably went without saying.

Then, as I was shooing away the mosquitoes, my hand fell still.

“Oh…!”

Not even a supermodel could have looked better than she did. In an instant, she captivated me, and all else faded into the background. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected Shimamura to wear a yukata, and the impact made fireworks pop in my skull.

She waved at me; I waved back, then dashed over to her. I could feel my cheeks burning as I ran, but thankfully, it was so dark outside that she wouldn’t be able to see me blushing. Hopefully.

When I came to a stop in front of her, she greeted me with a grin. She was wearing her hair in a bun, and her yukata had a flower pattern like mine, except with a different type of flower. She looked so completely different, and yet it was unmistakably her… My brain was racing a hundred miles a minute, and I felt my whole face light up.

“You…you look so pretty!” I blurted out, no perfunctory greeting, before she had the chance to say a single word.

“Really?”

I nodded eagerly. “Really pretty!” Why did I keep repeating myself? Why was I so happy? It was a mystery.

“Well, that’s flattering,” she murmured, smiling, her gaze flitting to and fro. Then she looked up and clapped her hands together like she’d remembered something. “You look pretty too!” she continued belatedly, her smile deepening.

The instant I heard it, I could practically feel my ears melt. Sure, there was a noticeable pause, but what came next set off even more fireworks in my head. At this rate, I wouldn’t even need the real deal.

Then Shimamura reached out to me, and my heart skipped a beat. As I watched, her fingers arrived at my braid. She pinched the end between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it up, wiggling the end like a little broom. “Cute braid. Did you do it yourself?”

Apparently, my new hairstyle really stood out since I usually never did anything with it. “My…my mom did,” I answered stiffly.

Naturally, Shimamura’s eyes widened. “Whoaaa.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow…” Now she was acting a little too surprised. As far as I knew, she hadn’t even met my mother.

“What about you?” I asked, gesturing to her bun. It made her look very…mature? Elegant? But at the same time, it was still cute.

“Oh, this? Yeah, my mom did mine for me too.” She looked into my eyes, and we both smiled bashfully. “So, shall we get going?”

“Sure.”

At her suggestion, the two of us started walking side by side, forming yet another swaying lantern in the river of people.

I snuck a peek at her calm, composed face in profile and felt my fingers spread on reflex. Don’t snatch, don’t squeeze. Just be gentle. I focused hard as I reached out—so hard, in fact, my hand started to tremble. As a result, I misjudged the amount of force I needed and inadvertently squeezed her hand too tight.

Ugh, not again! The feeling of failure made my vision go dim. But beyond a wry smile, Shimamura didn’t seem all that bothered. “You’re not very good at that, are you?”

“I’m sorry.” But though I apologized, I wasn’t about to let go. Wait, what the? I could feel a faint warmth on her palms that wasn’t usually there. “Shimamura, were you holding hands with someone else just now?”

She looked at me sharply. “You can tell? That’s actually pretty impressive. I take back what I said,” she murmured in sincere amazement.

“Uh…well…” I backpedaled desperately. Was it creepy of me to notice?

“I was walking with my little sister until just now.”

“Oh, I see…”

I was relieved to hear it wasn’t some girl our age. Evidently, her little sister was somewhere around here too… Could I safely interpret her absence as a sign that Shimamura had chosen to prioritize me instead? I struggled to suppress my glee. If I’d won out over a family member, then…well…that was a big deal! I didn’t have the words to describe it.

As I was floating along on cloud nine, Shimamura turned her whole body toward me and took my free hand in hers.

“Wh-what?”

“What about this one? Does it feel colder?”

“Yeah.” The only warmth I felt was that of Shimamura herself.

“Whoa… Man, I really have to wonder if she’s even human,” she mused, tilting her head with a smile. Who was she talking about? “Anyway, I see you’re early again, Ms. Punctual!”

Does it still count as punctual if I’m early, though?

“But this presents us with a problem,” she continued.

“It does?”

She grinned. “Why, it would appear there’s still time before the fireworks are scheduled to begin, my dear.”

“Oh, that. That’s no big deal.” Because it meant I got to spend extra time with her.

In place of a proper response, I laced my fingers with hers, and a beat later, I felt her arm relax. Then we walked until we approached the bridge.

Here, food stands had sprouted up along the road, which was clogged with crowds. I really didn’t realize just how packed these festivals were until I was on this side of the cash register. Like rouge upon a lady’s cheek, the paper lanterns added a modest hint of color to the night.

“Is your Chinese restaurant running a stand tonight?”

“Yeah. Oh, but I don’t have to work tonight, so don’t worry,” I explained, waving a dismissive hand.

“That’s a relief,” she nodded, chuckling for some reason.

Well, where to now?

As I contemplated our next destination, I heard a familiar voice in the distance cry out: “This watermelon tastes like destiny!” Why did I recognize that voice…? I looked around until I spotted little blue particles of light rising into the sky amid the crowd.

“Uh…l-let’s go this way,” I declared, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Sure,” Shimamura nodded without argument. And so off we went.

Then, as we walked along the food stands, another familiar voice called out: “Hey there, come on down! How about some takoyaki? Hey, hey, hey!”

Inadvertently, this caught our attention. My jaw dropped—and for some reason, Shimamura’s did too.

It was the fortune-teller from forever ago, beckoning to us from behind a food stand. Despite the faint light of the lanterns, I could see her bright red cheeks plain as day. But Shimamura seemed to recognize her too—how did they know each other? I couldn’t really picture Shimamura of all people consulting a fortune-teller for advice. Oh, but then again, she said she watched that one horoscope show on TV, so maybe she was more interested in astrology stuff than I realized. Maybe that was something we had in common.

“Did your girlfriend get a new haircut?” the woman asked in a singsong voice, though her expression remained stoic.

Girlfriend? Girlfriend?! Likewise, Shimamura stared back wide-eyed.

“What, you kids don’t listen to Kamon Tatsuo these days? Hana kara Gyunyu! Look it up!” She waved her hand as if to dismiss the topic entirely. “Anyway…hmm. I think I see what’s going on here.”

She looked from me to Shimamura and back, her eyes sparkling mischievously. What do you mean, “What’s going on here”? For a split second, I was confused, but then it hit me: I had confided in this fortune-teller. She knew my secrets. I began to panic so hard, I actually let go of Shimamura’s hand.

“Do you know her, Adachi?”

“Not really—anyway—what about you?” I asked, trying to play it cool, but belatedly realized I was talking way too fast. My neck felt like it was on fire.

“She hassled me the last time I was here.”

“She hassled you?” I repeated, looking back at the fortune-teller. I was terrified that she was about to open her big fat mouth and blab to Shimamura.

The woman looked back at me and laughed loudly. “Relax, darling! I believe in client confidentiality!”

For a moment, I was relieved, but then I scowled. If you really believed in it, you wouldn’t have said that!

Sure enough, Shimamura perked up. “Client confidentiality? About what?”

Argh! So much for “confidential”! “Uhhhh… Gosh, something sure smells good over here!” I said in a loud, forced voice, trying to change the subject while knowing full well it wouldn’t sound natural. Stiffly, I walked right up to the fortune-teller’s stand. Why would a fortune-teller sell food anyway?

Shimamura walked up beside me and peered at the woman’s wares, looking perplexed. “The sign says takoyaki, but…”

Needless to say, the awkward hesitation there was entirely warranted, for the fortune-teller was apparently grilling fish-shaped taiyaki cakes instead. But while taiyaki cakes were usually plump, these were unnaturally bulky, like the filling was threatening to spill out at any moment.

“That sure doesn’t look like takoyaki…”

“I assure you, they’re filled with octopus this time.”

“What?”

The woman picked up a fresh taiyaki, bit off its fish-shaped head, and showed us the filling. Sure enough, there was so much octopus meat inside, it was practically popping out. This explained why the outside looked so lumpy… The sight was enough to give me indigestion just thinking about it.

“After I skimped on the filling for the Fortune Takoyaki, I ended up with too much octopus left over,” she shrugged.

Reflexively, Shimamura and I exchanged a glance.

“Feast your eyes on this creative innovation! Imagine all the disappointed children!” the fortune-teller continued, like it was a sales pitch. At this, Shimamura grabbed my hand without another word.

“Whoa!”

“From now on, try not to make eye contact with weirdos, okay?” she chided me as she dragged me away.

“Awww!” I could hear the woman lamenting behind us.

Shimamura started walking faster—but still not as fast as my heartbeat. Thanks to the fortune-teller, I was holding hands with Shimamura again… I mean, yeah, we were already holding hands earlier, but still! This time she initiated it, and that was important.

“Come to think of it, that lady told me she specializes in palmistry,” Shimamura mused quietly to herself. “Did you have her read your palm or something?”

She shot me a sidelong glance. I didn’t want to lie to her, so I conceded. “Yeah, one time, a long time ago. But just once,” I pressed, holding up an index finger.

“Do you really need to emphasize that?” she asked, blinking. Maybe not. “So what was your horoscope? What’d she say?”

“Uhhh…” I thought back to the last time I saw that woman and all the screaming she made me do. “It wasn’t about what she said, but what she made me say, I guess?”

“Huh?”

“What about some normal takoyaki?! Would you buy that?!”

“AAAGH!”

The fortune-teller had caught up to us, carrying a plastic to-go container and walking so fast, she was in danger of shooting straight past us. Why was she so persistent?!

“See, they’re round this time! Normal, round takoyaki! So how about it?”

“Fine, fine! I’ll buy it!” Shimamura sighed reluctantly, and I could hear the silent implication: So you’d better leave us alone!

“Thank you, come again!” the woman shouted automatically as she raced back to her food stand. But I could feel her watching me, and when I looked over, she thrust her fist into the air in a show of support.

Mind your own business! I thought as I waved at her dismissively. But at the same time, the thought that she could see right through me made a cold sweat trickle down my spine. Was it really that obvious? I looked down at our joined hands. Yeah, I guess it is.

“So anyway, what did she—”

“Oh, look over there! It’s, uh…c-candy apples!”

Speaking of obvious, my subject changes weren’t fooling anyone, but that didn’t stop me. I forced my way to the candy apple stand. Truth be told, I’d never actually eaten one of these, though I’d heard of them. Then the guy asked me what flavor I wanted, but I didn’t know they had flavors, so I just told him to give me whatever.

“Wow, it’s as red as your face!” Shimamura commented next to me, and I could feel my cheeks proving her exactly right. Then she took the apple from my hands, and after a pause… “So what did your horoscope say?”

“Look! Okonomiyaki pancakes!”

You can probably guess what happened next. Then, right after I completed my purchase, Shimamura grinned. “Let’s talk about astrology!”

“Uh…one water balloon, please!”

Boing, boing.

“C’mon, Adachi-chan, I wanna know about your horoscope!”

“Rrrgh!” I looked at her reproachfully. Even I was smart enough to put two and two together by this point. “Are you messing with me?”

“It’s a lot of fun!” she replied, smiling brightly…and because she seemed so happy about it, I very nearly forgave her. Meanwhile, she tossed the water balloon in one hand. Glad you like it, I guess.

Unfortunately, we had now purchased far more food than we were capable of eating while walking.

“I wonder if there’s any seating anywhere,” she mused, craning her neck around as she held the container of takoyaki. At this point, we couldn’t hold hands anymore, which meant I now had a vested interest in eating this food as quickly as possible.

“There’s a park over that way,” I suggested. Naturally, I had already scouted the place out in advance—which was my way of saying I’d gotten impatient and milled around here for a while yesterday.

“Lead the way!” she declared. So off we went.

It was so pathetically childish, even a literal child would laugh at me if I told them, but…I really liked it when Shimamura relied on me for this stuff. For a few precious seconds, it filled me with a sense of pride I otherwise never experienced. And so, with my head held a tiny bit higher than usual, I guided her to the park.

As we moved away from the bridge, the plants and trees grew in more thickly, blocking out the light from the lanterns. I thought maybe it would block out some of the heat and noise from the crowd, but no. A ton of people were at the park too.

Luckily for us, a straight couple had just vacated one of the benches; we walked past them on their way out, then sat down in their spot. Evidently, it was nearly time for the fireworks show, because people were starting to migrate to the edge of the park facing the river. I couldn’t see much in the absence of the lantern lights, but I could vaguely make out a lot of silhouettes—maybe even more than the number of cicadas clinging to the trees.

Incidentally, there were plenty of other girls hanging out in pairs like us. For some reason, this came as a relief.

“What should we eat first?” Shimamura asked, eyeing the candy apple and takoyaki in turn.

“Okay, um…how about the takoyaki?” I suggested, opting for the one I’d eaten before. I took the container from her, then picked up one of the octopus dumplings by the toothpick.

It was too hot to eat whole, so I blew on it, then bit it in half. We didn’t get to request any particular flavor, but from what I could tell, it tasted like soy sauce. As I chewed, however, I quickly sensed that something was wrong.

“What the?” I examined the half I hadn’t eaten yet.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s no octopus in this…”

I could see green onions, at least, but these “octopus dumplings” had approximately zero octopus inside.

“Are you kidding me? But she said she had extra!” Shimamura stared down at it, baffled. Then, after a moment, she laughed wryly. “Oh, now I get it.”

“What?”

“She used all her ‘extra’ octopus in those stupid taiyaki cakes, so she probably didn’t have any to put back in the takoyaki.”

“Ha ha ha…” I laughed dryly. But if this was a joke, it wasn’t funny.

I ate a few more dumplings; aside from the lack of octopus, they were bland, but otherwise edible. Once I’d eaten half the container, Shimamura traded me the candy apple, which she had already taken a few bites of. I could see that it was coated in some sort of bright red syrup—so bright, it was frankly overwhelming.

“Whoa. So candy apples really are apples,” I mused quietly.

“Oh, my god, you didn’t know?”

I scrutinized the spot where Shimamura had nibbled. Not that it really, you know, mattered by this point. We had shared plenty of drinks in the past. Yeah, it’s no big deal, I told myself as I gingerly pressed my lips to the apple…engulfed in bittersweet agony all the while.

As for the okonomiyaki, we shared that too—though I ate a bit more of it than she did. By the time we were full, the crowd had swelled even larger, like a fruit on the cusp of ripening. Soon, the fireworks would begin.

“Are you having fun, Adachi?” Shimamura asked as she played with the water balloon. What a silly question. Whenever it was just the two of us, my spirits bounced higher than any old balloon.

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

She grinned from ear to ear, and her youthful innocence stirred something in my chest. “What about you, Shimamura?” I asked in return.

“Yep, I’m having fun,” she replied promptly, as if she’d expected me to ask. “See?”

She bounced the water balloon higher and higher, and I started to wonder if all she cared about was her new toy. Part of me was relieved that she was enjoying herself, but the lingering anxiety was still there, barely suppressed beneath the surface. For a moment, I debated whether to ask her outright…but despite my fear, I just couldn’t stop myself.

“More fun than…l-last time?” I asked, placing all my hopes on the water balloon as it bounced up and down. I wanted the time she spent with me to be better than any time she spent with other girls.

She smiled gently. “Maybe so.” Then she ran a reassuring hand over my head. But it felt like she was just placating me, so this ultimately did nothing to quell my fears.

Still, I was done crying and throwing a fit about it. I needed time to cool my head, so I rose from the bench and walked away. “I’ll go get rid of the trash.”

“Aww, that’s so thoughtful! Thank you.”

Leaving Shimamura behind on the bench, I jogged over to the nearest trash can. Discarded trash littered the ground nearby, probably from lazy throws. At first, I figured I’d just ignore it, but it kept gnawing at me, so I caved and started picking it all up. Not that I believed in God or anything, but something told me my dreams wouldn’t come true unless I earned them. I was no good Samaritan; I was just doing it for my own benefit.

By the time I finished my volunteer work, my steaming face had cooled off a bit, so I turned back toward our bench. In the distance, I could see Shimamura happily bouncing her water balloon. And as I admired her from a distance, I suddenly remembered: she didn’t wear a yukata to the other festival.

Am I totally full of myself, or…is she wearing it just for me?

She spotted me and tilted her head. “Why are you just standing there?”

I felt my breath hitch in the back of my throat, then choked it back down. “I was just…noticing how pretty you look.”

“Oh… Thanks.”

Miraculously, I actually played it off pretty cool this time. Go, me! I could feel my veins pulsing in my neck.

Then she clapped her hands together and smiled, just like last time. “You look pretty too!”

“Th-thanks…!”

But we already had this conversation once before, so it wasn’t as impactful this time around. Was it too entitled of me to hope for something new?

“Ooh, fireworks!”

She hopped to her feet and pointed out at the sky, where little red sparks scattered in all directions, carving a blossoming flower into the night. Before now, I had only ever heard them pop and crackle in the distance, so the heavy BOOM came as a real surprise, resonating deep in my chest.

“Wow…!” Shimamura murmured in awe.

A beat later, the crowd cheered, and more fireworks shot up.

“Cardinal red! Dark crimson! And finally, burnt sienna!” she exclaimed gleefully. I didn’t really understand it, but apparently, she was enjoying all the different shades of red.

The crowd kept edging closer and closer to the river like they were drawn in by the fireworks. But I wasn’t looking at the sky at all—I was more captivated by Shimamura. The multicolored glow afforded her a magical, ethereal beauty that penetrated my skin, my organs, my tear ducts, stirring me to life until all my purest emotions began to spill forth unhindered…and my only thought was that I wanted to tell her. Something inside me was crying out, begging to be heard.

Spurred on by the glittering lights, my shoulders swelled, and my feelings flared up with the fireworks.

“I LOVE YOU!”

 

***

 

It sounded like a romantic confession. Adachi’s feelings blossomed with the fireworks, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto me.

I turned away from the sky and looked back at her. Beneath the rainbow of colored lights, I could see her frozen stock-still, mouth agape… Was she waiting for an answer?

Ugh, this is awkward. So, so awkward.

“Well…thank you very much!”

It was a pretty pathetic response, but I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say. Still, it seemed to resonate with her, because her expression shifted rapidly, like the fireworks above. Apparently, I’d snapped her back to her senses.

“Oh, man, you should see your face right now.”

Where else would I have the chance to see Green Adachi or Orange Adachi? Amused, I stepped closer to get a better look…but she took a step backward. Then a second. Then a third. Her face sort of quimbled—you know, quivered plus trembled—and then she bolted.

“Hey, where are you—?!” Going…

It felt like this kept happening. First that one time at my house, and then a few other times since. I wanted to tell her it wasn’t safe to run through a crowd, but she was now too far away to hear me.

She ran full-speed in the opposite direction of the festival, like she was trying to disappear into the dark night. Stop! Stop! But the flow of time didn’t heed me, and neither did Adachi. All I could do was run after her myself. Meanwhile, the rumbling explosions faded into the distance.

Once we arrived back outside the hotel where we first met up, she finally slowed to a stop. Then she sank to the ground so hard, I almost thought she fell. By the time I caught up to her, my sandals had rubbed the skin between my toes completely raw, but I ignored it. Instead, I raced around in front of her, and she looked up at me with that candy-apple face of hers. This was the Red Adachi I was accustomed to.

“C’mon. Your yukata will get dirty,” I told her as I offered her my hand.

Timidly, she reached out; I grabbed her and pulled her up. By the time she was back on her feet, however, she was well on her way to Blue Adachi. Her expression swayed like a ship on rough seas.

“Let’s calm down, okay?”

I put a hand on her shoulder and moved her over to the corner of the building. No one else was around, since they were all busy watching fireworks. But fireworks were the least of my worries right now.

“Feeling better now?” I asked, though I knew it was probably too much to expect of her right now.

“Hhhh…”

Her jaw quavered. It wasn’t much of an answer, but at least she was composed enough to respond to me at all. Her explosion had drowned out all the fireworks, and now she was threatening to detonate all over again.

First, I started with a warning: “It’s really not safe to run off. There’s too many people here…and there’s cars and stuff, you know?”

The whole time I was chasing her, I was terrified that she might get hurt.

She shrank into herself as though I’d smacked her over the head. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. Now I felt less like her sister and more like her mother.

“Good. Now, uh…it sounds like you…want to talk about something…right?” For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to be direct.

Her lips wobbled like she was holding in a sneeze. “I… I l…”

“Island?”

She shook her head aggressively. Ugh, why did I think it was “island”? I’m so stupid. I could feel my heart starting to race, but was I excited or scared? Either way, this was uncharted territory for me.

“I lo…”

She was trying to say something, but she kept stumbling. Tears sprang to her eyes—maybe she bit her tongue. But before I could ask if she was okay—

“I…I love you! I love you!” she shouted at me, and under the light of the fireworks, I could see the blood from her bitten tongue leaving her lips in a fine mist.

Never did I imagine I’d receive such a raw, coppery confession. It was a rather vivid experience, and not just visually. Add in the warm glow of the summer festival, and I was starting to feel dizzy. It was just so surreal.

“Right. Got it,” I nodded.

Her face shifted to a silent, plaintive That’s it? expression.

“Look, just give me a minute to think.”

It was too sudden; my emotions had yet to catch up. I folded my arms in careful contemplation. But with Adachi visibly trembling right in front of me, I couldn’t exactly focus. She was so tense, she was idling like a car…and yet for some reason, whenever she was in a heightened emotional state, it helped me keep my cool.

“Okay, so you love me. What is it you want me to do about it?”

At this, she flinched hard. Then she stared down at the ground and quietly voiced her demands. “Spend time with me?”

“I’m right here.”

“Think about me?”

“I do think about you.”

She whipped her head up to look at me, almost like she was shaking her bangs out of her eyes. Her damp eyes shimmered like the midday sun. “And only care about me.”

“…Uhhhh…”

We were doing so well at the beginning too. But now she wanted me to care only about her? When I added it all together, what I got was…

“So…you want to be my girlfriend?”

Her shoulders shook, and I could see sweat beading on her scalp—but to her credit, things were getting pretty heated. Then she froze, unblinking, like she was struggling to parse it all. So I waited for her to make her decision, and at last, she nodded quietly.

Setting aside all the needless chasing and blood-speckled shouting, it was a short and simple request: Please date me. But what would it mean to form that kind of relationship with Adachi? We were both girls, and girls didn’t normally date each other. So if a normal person saw us together, they’d think it was weird. Granted, Adachi wasn’t the type to care about what other people thought…but what about me?

If everyone around us cast dirty looks at us, would I have the courage to keep holding her hand? If I truly loved her, I could endure it, right?

Romantic relationships were normally guy-girl pairs. But I wasn’t trying to have babies at this age, so did my partner really need to be male? Surely there was more to love than that. Human connections were not simple checklists.

Looking back, I could finally admit it: I loved Gon. But I didn’t decide to feel that way because I stood to profit from it—I just loved him. His fur, his personality, every little thing about him. Love was something that struck without warning, with no time for planning or bargaining in between. That was probably how it worked for Adachi too. And I wanted to respect that.

If I agreed to date her, we’d probably hold hands and go on dates… Wait, but is that any different from what we already do?

“…No…”

When I realized just how little would functionally change between us, it came as such a relief. It felt like I could really see the bigger picture.

“I guess it’d be pretty weird, huh?” Adachi murmured, trying to gauge my reaction. She looked up at me like a scolded puppy, her braid swaying. All in all, it was very cute.

“Yep.”

“…So you’re not comfortable with it, or…?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. What exactly was the “it” in this equation? Society’s view of us, or…?

“Nah.”

Her face fell so quickly, she seemed to almost shut down. After Orange Adachi came Blue Adachi. Very pretty, of course, but not how I wanted this to end.

“I’m saying I’ll be fine,” I clarified, realizing she had misinterpreted my response.

I was tired of overthinking this, so instead I touched her. Looked at her.

My heart went out to her. There was no part of her I couldn’t find comfort in.

As her sorrow melted away, I looked up at the night sky. The darkness had permeated all the world’s nooks and crannies, and no amount of fireworks would help us illuminate the other side. What awaited us there? Only time would tell. Tomorrow, I’d have to think about all sorts of mind-numbingly complicated things, but for tonight…

“Sure, why not?”

BOOM! A firework exploded over us, drowning out my answer.

And so I decided to try out a relationship with Adachi.