🎄 Merry Christmas, my dear readers! 🎄
I want to sincerely thank every one of you who follows my stories, leaves comments, favorites, and supports my work. As a small way to give back, I've prepared a special extra chapter as a Christmas gift for you.
This chapter is my way of showing gratitude for every read, every theory, and every emotion we've shared along the journey. You bring these stories to life far beyond the words, and that means more to me than I can put into words.
May this Christmas be filled with peace, inspiration, and joyful moments. Let's continue this adventure together, with many more chapters, arcs, and emotions waiting for us in the year to come.
Thank you for being here. Truly. ❤️
Merry Christmas and happy reading! ✨📖
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The light inside the limousine softly reflected off Kaguya's face. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure as the car glided along the road connecting Miyoshi to Kawagoe, passing through the quieter stretches along Route 254. The streetlamps slid past the window like golden streaks, marking the silent advance of the night.
"Shinomiya-san," Isagi called in his usual calm voice. "Have you ever been to this town's festival before?"
She slowly turned her face toward him, as if she had been expecting the question for minutes, even though it had startled her inside.
"I went once, with Hayasaka…" She nodded gracefully. "The Kawagoe Hikawa Taisai is one of the most traditional festivals in the region. It's… charming. Quite crowded, too."
Isagi raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Crowded enough that you can't walk without holding on to someone's arm?"
Kaguya froze.
She froze so perfectly that not even a porcelain doll could have done it better.
Her mind short-circuited.
"Holding his arm? In public…? At the festival…? Isagi-kun, why—i-is this a direct suggestion? A tease? Just a question? The probabilities… no… focus, Shinomiya Kaguya. Regain control. Quickly."
"I-I… of course not. I usually keep an appropriate distance from crowds."
Isagi tilted his head just a little, enough to cast a soft shadow over his attentive gaze.
"I see. I only asked because… well… festivals tend to be packed. It's easy to get separated, and I wanted to say there's no problem if you want to hold my arm. Or we could even hold hands…"
He had offered his arm—or even the possibility of holding hands—for reasons that went far beyond momentary politeness. In his previous life, he had grown up in Brazil, a country where physical contact was not only common but part of everyday language among friends, family, and even acquaintances in a completely natural way. There, gestures like taking someone's hand to guide them through a crowd, resting a hand on their back while walking, hugging when greeting, or offering an arm in crowded places were seen as practical, respectful, and perfectly normal.
In Japan, however, social dynamics were entirely different. Personal space was greater, physical touch far more restricted, and there was an unspoken etiquette about how people—especially young people who were not officially dating—interacted in public. A gesture that would go unnoticed to a Brazilian could seem bold, strange, or even overly intimate to a Japanese person.
That was why his offer wasn't just about concern for the festival crowd; it was also a way to establish understanding beforehand. He knew that if he suddenly had to grab her hand to keep them from getting separated, or offered his arm to guide her through the throng, it might feel out of place by Japanese standards—perhaps even abrupt. This was his gentle way of preventing misunderstandings, of making sure she wouldn't look at him as if he had done something unexpected or wrong, explaining in advance that it carried no hidden ulterior motives. It was simply the natural reflex of someone who carried within him the habits of a warmer, more tactile culture and was still adjusting to Japanese ways…
But of course, to the girl sitting beside him, it meant something entirely different.
Kaguya didn't blink.
Literally, she didn't blink.
For one full second—an agonizingly long second that was enough for her to suffer an emotional cardiac arrest, yet too short for Isagi to notice the internal war beginning inside her.
"Hold his arm…? Hold hands…? H-hold hands?! That means… that means… I-Isagi-kun just… suggested? Proposed? Offered? A direct invitation? Voluntary physical closeness?!"
Her brain spun at a speed that would shame any supercomputer.
Her heart leaped.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Externally, however, Kaguya maintained perfect posture: back straight, chin raised, impeccable elegance. The only betrayal was the faint tremor at her fingertips, which she immediately hid by clasping her hands in her lap.
"Ah…" She began, but the sound came out so soft it was barely audible. She took a deep breath, reclaiming the Shinomiya nobility. "O-of course. I… appreciate the consideration, Isagi-san. It's… an appropriate suggestion."
Appropriate.
She had said appropriate.
On the outside, a model of dignified composure.
On the inside:
"It's more than appropriate, it's absurdly perfect! I could die right now, Hayasaka! I wasn't ready for this! Ahhhhh—"
She immediately looked away. A small gesture, but transparent to someone accustomed to reading micro-expressions like Isagi.
Her face turned a discreet shade of pink.
"…So… if I get lost…" she murmured, far too softly, before catching herself and clearing her throat. "I mean, if you get lost, I… can make sure it doesn't happen and will hold your arm. If it's really crowded, we can h-hold hands…"
The sentence came out firmer than expected, but the blush reaching her ears gave everything away.
Isagi took a deep breath, suppressing a subtle smile.
"I'm relieved to hear that."
Silence returned—not uncomfortable, but soft, filled with small meanings that only existed when the two of them were together. The kind that made the heart beat both slower and faster at the same time.
Kaguya looked out the window again. The car was approaching Kawagoe, and the streets were growing livelier—colored lights, people walking, small stalls appearing in the distance.
"It'll probably be quite crowded tonight…" she commented, keeping her tone controlled. "It's one of the most important dates. The lanterns will be lit around seven."
Isagi followed the city's movement through the side window.
"So, what do you want to see first? Food? Games? The shrines?"
Her heart jumped again.
"He's asking my opinion. That means… he really wants to enjoy this with me. It's not just a casual outing. It's a date. My date with Isagi-kun. But that should already be obvious—he offered to hold my hand or for me to hold his arm…"
"I… hm…" She brought a hand to her chin, thoughtful. "There are lots of typical food stalls. Takoyaki, yakisoba… but there are also seasonal sweets. And the river looks especially beautiful at night when the lights reflect on the water."
Isagi smiled.
"Then we'll go at your pace. I want to see the festival through your eyes."
Her mind simply… froze. Again.
"Isagi-kun… please… don't say things like that… I… I can't…"
"…All right," she answered in a thread of voice. Then, in the blink of an eye, she regained her dignity. "We'll start along the river path. It's quieter. Then we can visit the stalls. And… there's a place that sells omamori… for couples."
She realized what she had said.
One second later.
And wanted to vanish.
Isagi looked up, curious.
"For couples?"
Kaguya straightened so abruptly she resembled a medieval princess trying to cover a fatal slip.
"I-I mean… they're amulets for harmony. For, um… well, for positive relationships… between… close people."
Isagi held back a laugh.
"I see."
The driver slowed as they entered a brighter area. The first paper lanterns appeared overhead, and people in colorful yukata walked along both sides of the street.
"We're arriving…" the driver announced serenely.
Kaguya's hand discreetly tightened on the hem of her dress. Anxiety, anticipation, and a gentle warmth in her chest mingled so intensely that she had to take two deep breaths.
Isagi looked at her with his usual calm.
"Everything will be fine. Just relax…" he said with a smile.
And for the first time that night, the smile Kaguya Shinomiya let escape was completely natural. No pretense, no excessive self-control, no internal strategies.
Just a smile.
"…Yes. It will."
The limousine stopped.
The door opened.
The night breeze carried the faint scent of running water and the first foods being prepared at distant stalls. The moment they stepped out, the contrast between the cushioned silence inside the car and the lively murmur of the festival made Kaguya's heart race again—but this time in a different way. It was no longer pure anxiety. It was… anticipation.
Lanterns hung along the path to the river, scattering golden dots of light that danced on the water's surface like tiny fireflies. The current flowed calmly, reflecting the dark sky and the line of low, traditional Kawagoe buildings. Families took photos, couples strolled slowly, and groups of friends leaned against the railing, laughing as the night wind tousled their hair.
Isagi walked beside Kaguya, their steps naturally synchronized. For a moment, they simply took it in—the river, the lights, the way the festival seemed to breathe life.
"It's been a while since I've been to a festival like this…" he remarked, watching the lanterns' reflections ripple on the water. His predecessor had attended festivals—practically every Japanese person had at some point, whether with parents or, later, with friends in elementary school. For him, though, despite carrying those memories, this truly felt like his first time.
Kaguya clasped her hands behind her back, posture flawless but expression curious.
"Since elementary school, maybe?"
Isagi let out a soft nasal chuckle—the kind she always found inexplicably pleasant.
"Back then I was pretty busy…" He glanced at her with a subtle smile. "Being student council president was a lot of work, remember?"
She blushed faintly, as if caught cherishing memories she still held too dearly.
"I remember," she replied, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You were… far too dedicated. Always splitting your time between soccer and council duties. It was irritating sometimes…"
"Only sometimes?"
"Don't push it," she countered with a theatrical sigh. "But… I must admit those days were… fun."
Isagi's eyes softened.
"Yeah. They really were."
They continued along the wooden deck bordering the river, passing a small kiosk where couples hung ema—wooden plaques with handwritten wishes, thanks, and prayers. She watched a girl carefully write on hers before hanging it among the red threads.
Kaguya slowed her pace.
"This sort of thing has always fascinated me," she said. "People leave pieces of their feelings here. Fears. Dreams."
"Would you write one?"
She turned her gaze to the river, trying to hide the growing flush on her cheeks.
"Maybe. It depends… on what I wanted to write."
Isagi caught the subtext but didn't press her. Instead, he leaned in to quietly read some of the hanging plaques.
"Lots of people wishing for courage to confess to someone…" he said, almost laughing. "It's amazing how the festival makes everyone so sentimental."
Without thinking, Kaguya replied:
"The atmosphere… allows it. The lights. The distant music. People end up… more open to what they feel."
She only realized the double meaning when Isagi turned his face slightly toward her, as if analyzing every word.
She opened her mouth to correct herself or escape, but he simply smiled.
"That makes sense."
They walked a little farther and stopped near the railing. The water reflected the lanterns' gentle glow. From afar, the sound of flutes and drums began announcing the festival's livelier section ahead.
The wind blew, lightly fluttering the fabric of Kaguya's dress.
"Do you really miss that time?" he asked, looking straight at her.
Kaguya rested her fingers on the railing, posture elegant but expression sincere.
"I do…" she admitted without hesitation. "Even with all the pressure and responsibilities… those years were special to me. That was when I learned so many things…"
She discreetly bit her lower lip before adding in a low voice:
"And… there were important people with me."
Isagi looked toward the river, but she caught the slight upward curve of his mouth.
"If it means anything… I miss it too," he answered, his voice low and carrying quiet honesty. "But after everything, we ended up taking different paths, didn't we? I wanted to focus on my soccer career, while you kept working with the student council… and little by little, we drifted apart. It's only recently that we've started talking every day again and recovering a bit of what we used to be…"
The wind blew gently, lifting a strand of her hair.
Kaguya remained silent for a few seconds—not the tense silence of before, nor the panicked internal quiet she usually felt when facing her own vulnerability. It was a meaningful silence, almost melancholic…
Strangely, Isagi had that effect on her. No matter how shy, reserved, or emotionally overwhelmed she felt, when he was there speaking to her, everything seemed to settle. She felt calm—so calm that she could express herself better, letting words emerge with a sentimental side she rarely showed.
She interlaced her fingers in front of her, staring at the river as if its mirrored surface might return the image of their younger selves standing side by side in the school hallways.
"Yes…" she murmured, her voice soft, distant, but sincere. "We drifted apart. I… was always too busy, always overwhelmed with duties, expectations, obligations. And you had your own dreams to chase. Even though we still saw each other many times over the last year, it wasn't the same as before…"
She tilted her head slightly, letting out a restrained sigh.
"It's easy to lose someone important when everything around you demands too much."
The confession hung delicately between them, illuminated by the lantern light on the water.
When she finished, Isagi took a deep breath, and a calm smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Yes…" he replied quietly. "We got lost along the way… but in the end, everything worked out."
Kaguya blinked once, slowly. The gentleness of that phrase, the absence of bitterness, the tranquility, the acceptance—it warmed her chest in an unexpected way.
"Because even if things changed…" Isagi continued, turning to truly face her, "we both ended up here tonight. Together. And that wouldn't have happened if we'd stayed stuck in the past."
The night breeze blew between them, carrying the distant scent of yakisoba and festival sweets. The lanterns painted their outlines in gold on the water.
"Of course…" he added with a brief, amused smile, "it would've been nice if the rest of the council were here too."
Kaguya pictured the scene for a moment and had to look away quickly to hide the stubborn little smile that threatened to appear.
"But honestly?" Isagi continued, his simple tone carrying more meaning than it should. "I wouldn't trade this moment right now for anything."
Her heart squeezed.
Not from nerves, but from something deeper—familiar and frighteningly sweet.
He turned his eyes back to the river, resting his arms on the railing. "I think… in the end, what matters isn't who didn't come, or what we lost along the way."
Then he looked at her again, and Kaguya felt the whole world grow quieter.
"What matters is that the two of us managed to get here."
She opened her mouth to respond—anything—but realized her voice wouldn't come easily. A gentle warmth rose to her face, and she had to take a deep breath before regaining her Shinomiya composure.
"…I agree…" she managed, with a small but genuine smile. A smile that carried no calculation, no internal schemes, no carefully constructed persona from their school days. Just her. "No matter how… improbable it seems, I'm glad."
Isagi returned an even softer smile, satisfied with her rare and precious sincerity—like a warm breeze in the depths of winter.
"So…" He lifted his chin toward the path lit by lanterns and food stalls. "Shall we? The whole festival is waiting for us."
Kaguya took a deep breath, feeling her heart beat to a new rhythm—nervous, yes, but also excited, alive, full of possibilities.
She took a step forward.
And for the first time that night, her fingers lightly brushed his arm as she walked.
Without noticing.
Or perhaps… noticing perfectly well.
But without pulling away.
"Let's go," she answered softly, following him toward the colorful glow of the festival, where lights, sounds, and feelings waited to turn that night into something neither of them would ever forget.
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