The sparring had ended, and the courtyard gradually returned to its calm, sun-drenched stillness. Shin, Shizuku, and Kouki stood chatting near the edge of the ring, still catching their breath between light banter and Kouki's endless self-commentary.
Soon, Old Man Shuu and Koichi approached the trio, their expressions a mix of pride and satisfaction.
"You three did well," Old Man Shuu said, arms behind his back. "All of you have grown more than I expected over the summer."
Koichi nodded in agreement. "Especially you, Shin-kun. You've sharpened up a lot."
Shin gave a small bow. "Thank you."
Old Man Shuu eyed him with a curious grin. "So, what's the plan now that summer's over? Still planning to drop by?"
Shin nodded without hesitation. "If it's okay, I'd like to keep coming on Saturdays or Sundays after school starts."
"Hoh… that's a fine answer." The old man chuckled, clearly pleased. "We'll be waiting, then."
With that, Shin began gathering his things and made his way toward the exit gate.
Shizuku hesitated, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. Her eyes followed Shin's back, as if searching for the right words—but whatever she meant to say caught in her throat.
The gate creaked shut behind him.
Standing nearby, Kirino leaned closer to Shizuku, her voice laced with mischief.
"Ara? Was that your chance to confess ruined just now?"
Shizuku jolted. "W-What?! No!" Her face flushed instantly. "I just… I was going to invite him and the others from the orphanage to the festival tomorrow!"
Kirino's smile widened, teasing but gentle.
"Is that so?" she said softly.
She said nothing else, only stayed by Shizuku's side—smiling quietly as the younger girl stared at the now-closed gate of the Yaegashi household, her expression unreadable even to herself.
________________
The next evening, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the summer festival burst to life in full color. Lanterns lit the narrow streets in a soft amber glow, and stalls lined the path like a never-ending feast.
Shin walked quietly at the front, surrounded by all the kids and teens from Takagi Orphanage. The little ones clung to paper fans and festival snacks, their eyes sparkling with excitement. The older ones followed behind, keeping everyone in line — or trying to.
Somewhere in the middle of the group, Haru trudged forward with slumped shoulders, his expression gloomy.
"I still think we should've done the stall," he muttered, sulking. "The skewer idea would've been a hit."
Amiya, walking just behind him, raised a brow. "Still on about that?"
Akiha sighed. "Did you forget what happened last year?"
Haru flinched. "T-That was different!"
Shin, still walking ahead, gave a small glance over his shoulder. "You caught fire. Not the food. You."
______________
A certain incident last year.
Under a dim festival light, Shin and Haru stood behind a makeshift takoyaki stand. A crudely handwritten sign hung above, swaying with the summer breeze.
"...Haru-nii, no one's coming," Shin said flatly, staring out at the empty path.
"That should be impossible! It's your food, Shin!" Haru exclaimed dramatically, arms raised. "It's a culinary crime for people to ignore this!"
Shin blinked. "The food's fine. The location is bad."
They had, somehow, been tricked into setting up their stall in a dead-end alley with almost no foot traffic.
Moments later, a small group of boys approached — Haru's middle school friends.
"Yo, Haru!" one of them greeted. "Oh hey, you dragged Shin into this too?"
"Yeah," Haru muttered. "We got scammed on the stall spot."
The group burst out laughing.
"You serious? You really fell for that? You idiot."
"Shut up!" Haru snapped. "Just buy something already!"
Shin stepped forward. "You want some?"
One of them —Taki, Haru's best friend — shrugged. "Sure, why not."
Shin silently got to work. With practiced hands, he flipped the batter, added the fillings, and served a neatly boxed takoyaki batch.
They paid and left.
Haru leaned forward, eyes twitching. "Oi, at least taste it here so I can see your reactions!"
But they were already gone.
Fifteen minutes later, the group returned. Then others started trickling in. Haru grinned smugly at the sudden traffic.
"Oh? So you did come back? I knew it was good!"
As the sun set and night deepened, the crowd around the stall kept growing. Word had spread. Students, locals, even a few wandering teachers all showed up, guided by one line:
"Some middle schoolers said this was amazing."
Then the real chaos began.
A horde descended. Not just people who tried it — but people referred by friends of friends of other friends who'd eaten it. And for some reason, everyone was here now, shouting about the same takoyaki.
While Haru tried to manage the mob, Shin stood behind the grill, calm as a monk, silently flipping, filling, and serving nonstop.
"You take the orders," Shin said without looking up.
"I CAN'T—THEY'RE MULTIPLYING!!"
Sweat pouring down his back, Haru struggled to hold the line as demands, change, and shouting piled up like the takoyaki balls being flipped.
It didn't end with the crowd dispersing.
It ended when they ran out of ingredients.
Completely.
Afterward, Haru slumped against the back wall, arms limp.
"I… I saw things…"
He was later scolded (very loudly) and banned from setting up another food stall by Akiha and Sakuya for the rest of the festival week.
____________
"And that's why you were banned," Akiha said, crossing her arms as they walked past a yakisoba stall.
Haru groaned. "But that was a once-in-a-lifetime accident!"
"No," Amiya said flatly. "That was the third time you tried to 'go big.' We're just tired."
Up ahead, Shin said nothing — but his shoulders shook slightly.
"...Are you laughing?" Haru snapped.
Shin didn't respond.
But the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
As Shin walked through the glowing lantern-lit path alongside the residents of Takagi Orphanage, a familiar presence caught his eye.
Not far ahead, strolling along the food stalls, were Kouki, Shizuku, and Kaori—each accompanied by their families.
Shin, ever polite, gave a small bow in greeting. "Good evening, Shizuku-san, Kouki-san, Kaori-san."
The three looked up in surprise. "Shin-kun!" Shizuku was the first to respond, smiling.
Amiya and Akiha, walking just behind Shin, recognized them as well and offered their greetings with cheerful waves. The brief surprise quickly turned to friendly chatter.
It didn't take long before the groups naturally mixed. Sakuya, after all, was quite close to both Kirino and Koichi Yaegashi, and with a bit of chatting, it was decided: Shin would join the trio, while the three families strolled with the orphanage group.
"Go on ahead," Akiha said to Shin, smiling knowingly. "We've got the kids."
Shin gave a small nod of thanks and joined Kouki, Shizuku, and Kaori as they resumed their walk among the stalls.
They browsed casually, stopping at a few booths to grab skewers and candied fruits. Kouki bit into his food with a complicated expression. "It's not bad… but somehow, everything just tastes plain compared to Shin's cooking."
Kaori nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."
Shin simply replied, "The food here isn't bad. It's festival food. You're not supposed to compare it."
They laughed and continued strolling.
Then, as they passed a shooting game stall, Shin's eyes caught something.
Shizuku was staring quietly at a small, pink teddy bear sitting among the prizes. She said nothing, but her gaze lingered a moment too long. It was subtle—so subtle that neither Kaori nor Kouki seemed to notice.
But Shin recognized the look. He'd seen that same quiet longing in the younger kids at the orphanage when they wanted something but didn't know how to ask.
"How about a game?" Shin suggested casually.
Kouki perked up immediately. "Oh, that toy sword looks cool! Let's do it!"
The four approached the booth. The owner looked up from his stool and grinned. "Want to give it a shot? 300 yen per round."
Kaori politely declined, opting to watch from the side.
The first round began.
None of them hit a single target.
Kouki groaned. "Tch. I was sure that first one was going to land."
Shizuku frowned in concentration. "It's harder than it looks."
Shin, on the other hand, remained expressionless. He wasn't aiming to win just yet—just observing the gun's balance, weight, and aim alignment.
By the third round, none of them had scored a prize.
Shizuku sighed. "Maybe we should stop. It's kind of a waste."
Kaori nodded. "It's okay, Shin-kun. You don't have to keep playing."
Kouki, though grumbling, reluctantly agreed.
But Shin stepped forward again. "I'll play three more."
As he handed the coins over to the stall owner, the other three tried to dissuade him.
"Shin-kun, it's fine—"
"Don't worry," he said simply.
Then, without any hesitation, he lifted the toy rifle.
Bang.
The pink teddy bear toppled off its perch.
The stall owner blinked.
Bang.
The blue bear fell next.
Bang.
The toy sword slid cleanly off the shelf.
A beat of stunned silence followed.
Even the stall owner stood there, eyes wide. "You… you sure you haven't done this before?"
Shin returned the rifle. "I just learned the angle."
The man laughed, clapping him on the back as he handed over the prizes. "Remind me not to let you near this stall again—I'd go out of business!"
Shin took the prizes and turned to his friends.
The blue teddy bear he handed to Kaori, who blinked in surprise.
"Eh? For me?" She hugged it to her chest. "Thank you!"
Next, he handed the toy sword to Kouki.
Kouki grinned, trying to hold back a strange look in his eyes. "Hah! Guess I got my weapon of justice after all." But something in him felt… conflicted.
Finally, Shin extended the pink teddy bear toward Shizuku.
She looked at it, then at him. "I—I didn't say I wanted it…"
"But you were staring," Shin replied plainly.
For a moment, she hesitated—then smiled and took the bear gently. "Thanks… I'll treasure it."
__________
Later that evening, the group reunited at the riverbank, where the orphanage residents had set up a small blanket area along with Shizuku, Kouki, Kaori, and their families.
Everyone chatted excitedly about what they'd done at the festival—games played, snacks eaten, and near-misses with fish scooping. Kirino, meanwhile, took great amusement in nudging Shizuku with a knowing smile whenever she glanced at the teddy bear still clutched to her side.
"Someone looks like they got a special prize," Kirino teased softly.
Shizuku turned red. "I-It's not like that—!"
Laughter rippled through the group.
Then, as the first boom echoed through the night sky, everyone turned their heads upward.
Fireworks bloomed above the river, brilliant colors painting the darkness—red, gold, blue, white. The crowd fell quiet, watching in shared awe.
A bright, magnificent end to a long and unforgettable summer.