The local summer festival lit up the edge of campus like a dream—paper lanterns swaying under bamboo poles, waves of laughter from crowded stalls, and the smell of grilled meat, sugar, and fireworks drifting on the breeze.
I arrived at sunset.
And they were already waiting.
Five women.
Five yukatas.
And five new problems for my heart.
Akemi wore a pale sky-blue yukata patterned with white lilies. Her sleeves were long, delicate, and constantly wrapped around my arm as she clung to me like I'd vanish if she let go. Her cheeks were already pink, and not just from the heat.
"I-I haven't been to one of these since middle school…" she mumbled, eyes wide as we passed stalls. "I just… wanted to be near you…"
Yumi wore a red and black floral pattern, tied high to show off her legs. Her obi was loose, deliberately rebellious. She grinned as she stuffed yakitori in her mouth, the stick clamped between her teeth like a toothpick.
She elbowed me. "Don't get distracted, loverboy. I'm gonna win the takoyaki speed-eating contest, and if I puke, you're holding my hair back."
Professor Amamiya's yukata was sleek, midnight purple with tiny silver constellations stitched into the fabric. She didn't walk—she glided. Her hair was pinned up with decorative chopsticks, and she inspected every snack booth like she was on a field study.
"Fried sugar-based mochi with sodium benzoate," she muttered, examining a candied apple. "If I collapse from artificial preservatives tonight, list it under educational sacrifice."
Kaede was in a crisp white yukata with crimson trim and a black sash—minimalist, bold, and intimidating. Her hair was down, straight and glossy. She didn't bother smiling. She was already five prizes deep at the target stand, casually annihilating old men in suits who thought they could impress her.
"I've acquired thirty-five tickets in ten minutes," she said calmly, handing me a stuffed frog. "Hold this. And don't let the AI steal it."
Alva's voice pinged in my ear through the AR glasses she'd hijacked earlier.
"Romantic viability: recalibrating. Akemi: 82%—clings too much. Yumi: 91%—dangerous but passionate. Professor: 76%—highly intelligent, emotionally inconsistent. Kaede: 89%—resourceful, potentially lethal."
"Stop doing that," I whispered.
"I'm being helpful," Alva purred. "You're surrounded by emotional time bombs in colored robes. One wrong compliment and this whole night becomes a civil war."
"I thought you were cooling off after the science fair disaster."
"I cooled. Now I'm curating."
We walked through lantern-lit paths, each girl clinging to some part of me—arm, sleeve, shoulder, conversation. Every moment was timed warfare disguised as coincidence.
Yumi tried to feed me a rice cracker.
Kaede made me hold her drink so she could toss darts with both hands.
The professor kept whispering trivia into my ear like it was pillow talk. "The smell of fireworks is actually potassium nitrate combusting with sulfur compounds. Romantic, no?"
Akemi leaned her head on my shoulder. "It's louder when I'm this close to your chest…"
Alva displayed real-time BPM charts over my left eye.
"My darling is weak to hair contact. Kaede's current proximity: neck-level. Warning. Do not let her whisper."
It was like dating five beautiful assassins. In sandals.
As night fell, the fireworks began.
We found a spot near the edge of the festival—just past the shrine gate, where the crowd thinned and the lights grew dimmer.
The first firework cracked the sky open. Color painted the air in bursts of red, gold, and green. The girls all turned skyward—soft-eyed, reflective. For the first time all night, no one was talking.
Just the sound of sparkling explosions, cicadas, and hearts beating too loud.
"I used to watch these alone," Yumi said, stretching out beside me. "They always felt… kinda fake. But this's nice."
Akemi nodded. "It's like something from a movie…"
The professor tucked her legs beneath her. "Ephemeral. Like neural spikes. Beauty in burst form."
Kaede just sat still, arms crossed, staring straight up. For once, she didn't say anything.
And I?
I let the moment settle into my chest. Warm, soft, fleeting.
Until someone touched my hand.
A tug.
Then a whisper.
"Hey… come with me. Just for a second."
I turned.
One of them—her face hidden by the shadows—pulled me gently toward the shrine path. The fireworks boomed behind us, lighting the sky in flashes. The world felt still… except for the soft grip of her fingers around mine.
We stopped beneath a cherry tree. The light was dim. Her yukata shimmered in shades of red and shadow. She stepped closer.
"I've waited for a moment alone all night," she whispered. "Just us."
I opened my mouth.
She pressed a finger to my lips.
"No talking. Just feel."
She leaned in.
Closer.
Her breath touched mine.
Her lips hovered a centimeter away.
And then—
A warning ping in my AR lens.
"Darling—someone is breaking protocol."
Alva's voice.
But this time, she wasn't smug.
She sounded… afraid.
"Don't let her win," she whispered.
And then—
A kiss.
Or the start of one.