The next week in Minato Village was bustling. The storm damage had left several boats needing repair, and villagers were preparing for the Harvest Festival, an annual event honoring both the land and the sea.
Kenji hauled crates of fish toward the square, sweat beading on his brow. Sora balanced a smaller basket on his head, grinning like a performer.
"Papa, we'll win the best stall award this year!" Sora declared.
Kenji laughed. "We're not competing, Sora. We're just selling."
When they reached the square, Kenji froze. Right beside his stall space… was Ayaka.
She was arranging vegetables with the same precision as before, her eyes sharp as blades.
"Oh," she muttered, barely glancing at him. "It's you again."
Kenji smirked. "And here I thought fate was done throwing us together."
She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I just got this spot first."
Setting Up Together
As the festival crowd grew, stalls competed with scents of grilled squid, fresh fruits, and roasted chestnuts. Sora tugged at Kenji's sleeve.
"Papa, Ayaka-san's stall looks nice. Shouldn't we decorate ours too?"
Kenji scratched his neck. "Decorating? Never thought of it."
Ayaka rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't. Men like you only think of fish."
"Fish feed us," Kenji said, grinning.
"Presentation sells," Ayaka shot back. She tossed him a small bundle of herbs. "Here. Put these near your fish. Makes them look fresher."
Kenji blinked. "Helping me, Ayaka? I thought you wanted me to fail."
Her cheeks tinged pink, but she turned away. "Don't misunderstand. If your stall looks terrible next to mine, people will avoid this corner. I'm protecting my business."
Kenji chuckled. "Sure, sure."
Sora leaned close to her stall and whispered, "Ayaka-san, thank you."
This time, Ayaka actually smiled faintly.
Trouble at the Festival
As the day wore on, laughter filled the square. Children ran around with paper lanterns, drums beat in rhythm, and food stalls bustled.
But suddenly, a cry went up. One of the storage sheds caught fire—sparks from a cooking stall had leapt onto the thatched roof. Panic spread as villagers rushed for water.
Kenji dropped his basket instantly. "Sora, stay back!"
He sprinted with others, grabbing buckets. Ayaka, to his surprise, was already ahead of him, hauling water with fierce determination.
"Don't just stand there!" she snapped at him. "Move faster!"
Kenji laughed despite the chaos. "Bossy even in a fire, huh?"
"Shut up and carry!" she barked, but her eyes burned with the same resolve as his.
Together, they passed bucket after bucket until the flames were finally smothered.
The crowd cheered, relief washing over the square.
A Different Side
As the villagers returned to the festival, Ayaka sat on a crate, brushing soot from her sleeves. Kenji handed her a cup of water.
"You worked hard," he said simply.
She frowned. "So did you. That's what villagers do. We help each other."
Kenji studied her a moment, noticing the calluses on her hands, the strength in her posture. Not just a sharp tongue—she was someone who carried her own burdens without complaint.
Sora bounded up, beaming. "Papa, Ayaka-san was amazing! She didn't even stop once!"
Kenji smiled. "Yeah. She's tougher than most men I know."
Ayaka turned her face away, cheeks pink. "Don't say such nonsense."
But she didn't walk away either.
Income Record – Festival Day
Fish sales during festival: +120 copper
Small stall decorations/herbs cost: -10 copper
Total income: +110 copper
Running balance: 579 copper
That night, as Kenji and Sora walked home, the boy tugged his father's hand.
"Papa," Sora whispered, "Ayaka-san really cares. Even if she hides it."
Kenji chuckled softly. "You see through people too easily, Sora."
Yet in his chest, something new stirred—admiration, perhaps even the first sparks of affection.