The spring evening was painted in a warm, glowing haze, the air carrying the scent of yakisoba, candied apples, and fresh taiyaki. Lanterns swayed gently above the festival street, their orange and red paper shades glowing against the dimming blue of the sky. Somewhere in the distance, a shamisen strummed, half-lost in the hum of the crowd.
Arohi had never seen anything like it. The street leading up to the shrine was alive — laughter from children clutching festival masks, teenagers daring each other at goldfish scooping stalls, and couples walking hand-in-hand under the string lights.
She tugged her cardigan closer around herself, weaving through the crowd alongside Natsuo. "It's… so much," she said, her eyes wide as she tried to take it all in.
Natsuo chuckled, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. "First matsuri, huh?"
"Mm," she nodded, craning her neck to look at the stalls. "I've been to fairs back home, but… this feels like a movie scene. Everyone's glowing."
"That's the lantern light," he teased, earning an unimpressed look from her.
They walked side by side, the crowd pressing in and parting again in waves. Arohi kept stopping to peer into stalls — a woman in a floral yukata selling handmade charms, an elderly man making cotton candy clouds bigger than a toddler's head. At one point she dragged Natsuo toward a stall selling ceramic wind chimes, holding up one painted with koi swimming in a circle.
"This is pretty," she murmured.
"Mm," he replied, studying her more than the chime.
They had just passed a goldfish scooping stall when it happened.
A small tug at Arohi's cardigan made her glance down. A little girl, maybe three years old, stood there clutching the fabric with tiny fingers. Her round cheeks were flushed, her hair tied up in two short pigtails that bobbed when she looked up.
"Mama?" the girl asked, her voice small.
"Oh—oh no, sweetie, I'm not—" Arohi began, crouching to her level. But before she could explain, the girl blinked, seemed to realize her mistake, and turned to run… only to stop halfway and glance around frantically.
The crowd swallowed her view in every direction.
Natsuo noticed the way her shoulders trembled, the pigtails bobbing as her head darted from side to side. "She's lost," he said quietly.
Arohi's heart squeezed. Without thinking, she reached out and gently took the little girl's hand. "Hey, hey… it's okay. You're safe," she said, her voice soft.
The girl's lower lip wobbled.
"What's your name?" Arohi asked, smiling gently.
"Hana," came the tiny reply.
Arohi smiled wider. "That's a beautiful name, Hana-chan." She glanced at Natsuo. "Lost and found?"
He nodded. "It's usually near the shrine entrance. But…" He looked down at Hana, whose tears had yet to stop welling. "You're better with kids. She might not like me."
"You're not scary," Arohi teased, and he gave her a dry look.
On the short walk, Arohi talked to Hana in a mix of English and very basic Japanese. "It's okay. Mama and Papa are looking for you. We'll find them, hai?" She exaggerated the "hai" with a little nod, and Hana shyly mirrored her.
When they reached the lost-and-found booth — a small tent with a low desk manned by a volunteer in a happi coat — Arohi crouched beside Hana while Natsuo explained the situation.
The volunteer picked up a mic connected to the festival's PA system and announced: "A three-year-old girl named Hana has been found near the goldfish scooping stall. Her guardians, please come to the lost-and-found area."
They didn't have to wait long.
A woman burst into the tent, her face red and blotchy from crying, hair loose and messy. Behind her, a man stumbled in, looking pale and panicked.
"Hana!" the woman cried, falling to her knees and pulling the girl into a crushing hug. Hana's tiny arms wrapped around her mother's neck immediately.
The father crouched too, stroking Hana's hair. "We looked everywhere—" He stopped mid-sentence when his gaze shifted to Natsuo.
"…Natsuo?"
Natsuo blinked, then grinned faintly. "Takahiro?"
The man laughed in disbelief, still holding onto Hana's shoulder. "I can't believe it. Of all places to meet again…"
Introductions tumbled out quickly — Takahiro was Natsuo's high school classmate. The last time they'd seen each other was years ago.
They chatted about old times — how Takahiro had moved back to the city after getting married, how Natsuo had ended up in music, and the usual neighborly updates. Arohi stood awkwardly at the edge of the group until Hana tugged at her cardigan again.
"Play," Hana said simply, pointing toward the game stalls.
Arohi blinked. "Oh… sure?" She looked at Natsuo for permission, but he was mid-laugh with Takahiro, so she let Hana lead her away.
They ended up at a ring toss stall. Hana giggled as she tried to throw rings over bottles, missing more than she hit. Arohi tried too, deliberately missing once to make Hana giggle harder. They moved to a candy-apple stand next, sharing a red sugar-coated one.
Meanwhile, Takahiro leaned toward Natsuo, smirking. "So, why didn't you invite me to your wedding?"
"…What wedding?" Natsuo deadpanned.
He tilted his head toward Arohi. "Your wife is great with kids."
Natsuo nearly choked. "She's not—! She's my neighbor. She just moved here from overseas. I'm… helping her get comfortable with Japan."
"Ahhh, my bad," Takahiro said, though his grin said otherwise. "But seriously… you two have good chemistry."
By the time Arohi and Hana returned, the sky had deepened to indigo. Paper lanterns glowed brighter, and the crowd had thinned slightly. Takahiro's wife thanked Arohi profusely in rapid Japanese. Arohi tried her best to respond, stringing together simple English and bits of Japanese she knew. Somehow, they understood each other — laughing at small jokes about food stalls and weather.
When it was time to leave, Natsuo crouched to Hana's level. "I'll take Arohi-chan home now, okay?" he said in Japanese.
"Dame dame!" Hana pouted, clutching Arohi's hand. "I want to play more with Onee-san!"
Everyone laughed at her stubbornness. Arohi crouched too. "We'll play again soon, promise."
Hana beamed and, in her sweetest voice, said, "My house is next to big building! I'll see you soon!"
That sent the whole group into another fit of laughter.
Finally, after a round of goodbyes and promises of a "play date," Natsuo and Arohi began their walk home.
Natsuo was unusually quiet, Takahiro's words echoing in his head.
Arohi glanced at him, frowning. "Are you… okay? You've been quiet. Is it a cold?"
He shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine."
They passed a small prize stall. Without a word, Natsuo pulled a koi fish plushie from his hoodie pocket. "Here."
Arohi blinked. "What's this?"
"Something I won earlier. Good fortune… and a gesture of good friendship."
She shook her head. "Nooo, you won this. You should keep it."
"I'm giving it to you." His tone left no room for argument.
She accepted it with a small smile. "Arigatou," she said in careful Japanese.
He chuckled. "You and Hana have something in common."
Her brows rose. "Am I… cute like her?"
He froze for a fraction of a second. "…Yes," he muttered before realizing she heard him.
"Wait, what?? I can't hear you—"
"You both have the same level of Japanese," he interrupted quickly. "Apparently baby language is cute. Duh."
She gasped dramatically, cheeks puffing. "Hmphhh! Bakaaa!"
He laughed so hard he had to step aside to catch his breath. She swatted his arm lightly again and again, half-pouting, half-smiling.
By the time they reached their building, both of them felt lighter — as if something soft had bloomed between them.
Arohi hung the koi plushie near her study desk that night, letting it dangle where she could see it every time she walked in.
Across the hall, Natsuo sat at his piano, fingers gliding over the keys. He'd already named the new album in his head: Matsuri.
Halfway through a melody, he paused, covered his face with one hand, and muttered under his breath, "…urghh. Cute. Damn."
Spring had drawn to its close — and with it, the quiet end of Haru.
***PART 1 - HARU ENDS ***