The path to the riverbed was already packed with people. Still, thanks to the fact that they had set out early and that Nanaka knew of a hidden spot, they were able to secure a nice view. They were a little ways away from the most popular location, but apparently their position was just right to see both the fireworks blossoming in the sky and reflecting in the water.
They laid out their picnic blanket to claim their territory. The last vestiges of the evening sun caused the river to glimmer orange as the light scattered across its surface. The smell of the flowing river, the cries of cicadas, and the bubbling atmosphere of people—all of whom were eagerly awaiting the fireworks—swirled together with the voices of Nanaka and the others, reverberating both near and far.
Suddenly, a thought gripped Kai: it isn’t only summer vacation, but summer itself that’s ending.
“We’re out of drinks!” Aya exclaimed, announcing the first casualty caused by their early arrival. While sitting on the blanket and talking about their summers—in other words, talking about all the ordeals of this year’s Summit—their supply of snacks and drinks bottomed out before they knew it. There was still a sizable chunk of time before the fireworks began.
“Rock, paper, scissors—” On shoot!, Kai and Aina were declared the losers who had to go buy more.
“A-Are you sure?” Nanaka asked. “It’ll start getting crowded soon, so I can come, too.”
“Nanaka-chan, ♪” Aina sang sweetly, “It’s a-okay. I know Kai-kun just moved here, but I’m pretty familiar with this area, myself.”
“Oh, u-um... yeah, of course,” Nanaka stammered. With something else clearly still stuck in her throat, she added, “Hurry back.”
“I want seaweed-salt-flavored chips,” Aya appended.
“Takoyaki.” Despite the utter disinterest in her glare, Eru also put in an order as Kai and Aina headed away from the event site.
Kai knew there was a convenience store relatively close by, since they’d passed by it on the way to their viewing spot. However, as Nanaka had said, there were also significantly more people around than when they’d arrived. Between those lining up for the restroom, eating in front of a stall, and hurrying to secure their own spots, the streets were packed with people.
It took them far longer than Kai initially thought to get there, and he bought up everything they needed in a rush. Aina had told him, “I’ll wait outside, since it’s so cramped,” but she was nowhere to be seen upon exiting the store. At any rate, she would stand out—or rather, she would actively draw the attention of everyone around her. Even on their little journey to the store, she attracted the glances of man and woman alike. He was sure he’d find her right away.
“Hup!” a voice called from behind. Kai silently yelped as a sudden chill on his neck caused his shoulders to recoil. He turned to see Aina laughing with a mischievous grin. In her hand were two glass bottles of Ramune that she’d bought at a nearby stall. “Here.”
“Wha—” He reflexively accepted one and then added, “Oh, thanks.”
“C’mere, this way.” Aina’s slender fingers swiftly shot out and plucked at his wrist, tugging him along. There was a small wall of stone by the edge of the street that was the perfect height for sitting, so Aina took a seat and patted the space beside her with her free hand. She was beckoning Kai to sit with her. “Let’s chat for a bit, Kai-kun.”
“But it’s so crowded,” he protested. “Won’t we be late if we don’t hurry back?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. We still have plenty of time,” she reassured him. “...What? Do you not want to talk to me? I’m sure you’d be more than happy to plop down here if it was Nanaka-chan sitting beside you.”
“Why are you mentioning Nanaka-san now?” Kai asked.
“You wanna know? Then sit,” she told him, clearly without any regard for his answer. At this point, she wasn’t going to budge. He knew as much, and also knew that it would be fastest just to go along with her.
Kai barely managed to hold in a sigh as he sat down. As he did so, Aina scooted up next to him so that their legs just managed to touch. Her soft fragrance, different still from the scent of summer or the river, drifted to his nose. Before he could make an escape, she thrust out her Ramune bottle toward him.
“How about, ‘to our hard work’?” Aina suggested.
“...To our hard work,” Kai echoed, lightly knocking the bottle in his right hand against hers. A sharp, refreshing clink sound rang out as the marble in the bottle rolled around the glass while collecting little bubbles of carbonation. Going with the flow, Kai took a gulp, and the well-chilled flavor of intense nostalgia slid down the back of his throat.
“...It was a lot of fun,” Aina remarked.
“What are you—er, which part are you talking about?” Kai asked.
“Oh, come on,” said Aina, with a genuine, dimpled smile. “Everything. Isn’t that obvious? Every single thing that happened this summer. A lot of it was exhausting and... intense, but this is the first time in a long while that I’ve had this much fun.”
“...Is that because you don’t have to wear a mask?” Kai asked. He couldn’t help but find Aina’s gaze melancholic as she’d mentioned how long it’d been. Perhaps the reason he undermined her serious tone was because he wanted to lighten up the air around her.
“How about you stop being so indiscriminately kind?” Aina quipped.
“...I’m not really all that kind,” Kai refuted.
“You are,” she insisted. “...For example, I never thought that I’d be able to stand beside her again.”
Kai realized right away that Aina was referring to Eru. He’d already heard the circumstances between them, and that was meant to be the whole truth. Still, there was one point that he couldn’t wrap his head around. “...Can I ask you one question?”
“The real reason I didn’t just say, ‘I didn’t do it’?” Aina asked shrewdly. She’d seen right through him—or maybe this is what she’d had in mind when she sat down. She’d previously explained that the fact that she didn’t rip up the drawing with her own hands didn’t mean she wasn’t responsible—that she didn’t want to believe she was guiltless. So, she didn’t deny anything.
However, Kai couldn’t help but think that she could have at least told Eru that she wasn’t the one to do the deed. Then, at the very least, their relationship wouldn’t have devolved into the cold hatred that it had become.
And above all... “I didn’t do it, but I’m still responsible. If you want to hold a grudge, then feel free. If you want to hate me, then hate me. I won’t deny you that.” He could definitely imagine Aina being the type to explain all of that truthfully.
“I knew,” Aina began.
“Huh?”
“The fact that the chieftain of that monkey tribe wanted to ruin her illustration? ...I knew,” she confessed. “I happened to overhear them talking about it.”
“But then... why didn’t you...?” Kai asked.
“That’s because...” The continuation came to the tip of Aina’s tongue, but first she took a sip of Ramune. Her sight was fixed on the blue marble rolling around her bottle as she finished answering. “...I didn’t think they could do it,” she said wistfully. “That drawing was incredible, wasn’t it? It was really beautiful. Enough to make anyone that saw it think so... Even though I knew—I knew that people are all trash... and that some don’t have any qualms about trampling over others.” Like the fizzing bubbles of her soda, Aina’s voice threatened to disappear at any moment as she concluded, “That’s why I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t do it.”
“But then, Aina-san, you... You didn’t do anything wrong,” Kai pointed out gently.
“Like I said before, stop being so thoughtlessly nice.”
“I’m not saying this to be nice, I’m just—”
“But, thanks,” said Aina, a tiny smile floating to her lips. “I’m glad you—and only you—were the one I told this to.”
If you word it like that, Kai thought, how am I supposed to say anything?
“Wait, hooold it!” Aina’s voice abruptly livened up as she declared, “All this doom and gloom isn’t what I wanted to talk about!”
“You had something else?”
“...What happened at the movie theater,” she said. “Don’t tell me you forgot... You cried.”
“Well, of cour—” Kai’s words were cut short when he noticed that Aina’s watery gaze contained a curious passion behind it. Unable to withstand it, his eyes escaped to the glass in his own hands. It was probably mostly a habit for her, but the way Aina shifted gears so unexpectedly was genuinely bad for his heart. He drank a mouthful of Ramune to calm himself down and let the refreshing chill in his throat cool his head off.
“Of course, I remember,” said Kai. He didn’t need to look to know that she’d been peering into the side of his face this entire time.
“...That made me happy,” Aina confessed. From Kai’s left side, she extended a hand to rest on his shoulder. “That was the first time... someone else had cried for me. That kindness of yours—I want you to direct it all toward me.”
All of a sudden, a deafening sound rang out above their heads; their chat seemed to have continued a little too long, and now flowers composed of colorful fire streaked across the darkened night sky.
“The fireworks—” Kai said, turning toward the sensation of touch to find that Aina’s face was now directly in front of his own. Time stopped and the world moved in slow motion. He couldn’t see the fireworks. All that was before him were Aina’s large eyes, shapely nose, snow-white skin, and lips the color of cherry blossoms.
At this rate, they were going to—
“Just kidding! ♪” Aina stopped with a devilish grin just when her breath began tickling Kai’s lips. She drew back, and her eyes were the color of the night sky itself; there, he saw the fireworks bloom beautifully. “You really are fun to tease,” she told him.
“...This is bad for my heart,” Kai grumbled.
“Ohh?” she wondered aloud. “I’m enough to get your heart racing?”
“...I think that goes for most people,” said Kai.
Aina faintly knit her eyebrows together and then shut her eyes, letting out a small sigh. “...Stupid,” she muttered. “That’s not what I meant.” Opening her eyes once more, she stood up and said, “Come on, let’s hurry up and go back.”
Beyond the sight of Aina swimming through the night in her yukata, the fireworks exploded one after another. Kai thought back to those he’d seen reflected in Aina’s irises while they were close enough for their breath to intertwine. Feeling the throbbing in his chest quicken, he waved away the picturesque memory and hurried along after her.