Summer was always excessively bright.

It was a season where everything became too vivid just by keeping one's eyes open. The blue sky hid nothing, the sunlight seeped through the leaves to create swaying shadows on the ground, and even the sound of cicadas from afar continued persistently, as if stubbornly insisting that this season would never end.

The start of that day was around the time the sun began to slowly tilt over the mountains.

The midday heat gradually subsided, and a pale vermilion began to spread across the edge of the sky. The forest of the shrine, where cicadas had been crying all day, grew quiet as evening approached, and instead, the footsteps of people preparing for the festival and the busy sounds from the stalls began to fill the streets one by one.

Even though the sun hadn't completely set, lanterns were already lit along the shrine's approach. Small red and orange lights were lined up, swaying in the wind.

Summer festivals always seemed to start just before sunset. Straddling the boundary between day and night. While light still remained in the sky, people were already filling the streets with faces waiting for the night.

I rolled up the sleeves of my yukata a little. Turning to the side, I saw a candy apple in your hand. Red light sparkled over the transparently hardened sugar surface, and you stared at it for a long time before casually holding it out to me. I hesitated for a moment before taking it.

Do you want some of this?

You eat it.

I already took a bite.

Even though it was a lie. I knew. I knew you liked candy apples, and I knew you had a habit of always handing it to me after taking the first bite when you bought one.

I knew what your favorite drink was, and I knew your pace slowed down more than usual in front of the goldfish tanks. And that you would grab my sleeve with a nonchalant face in crowded places.

They were very trivial things. Things that would mean nothing to anyone else. But I knew too many of those trivial things.

You probably think you know me well. Because we've been friends for a long time. But there was one thing you didn't know. How long I've been looking at you.

It was long before summer came. It was even before the cherry blossoms bloomed. From a long time ago when even calling each other's names felt somewhat awkward. I liked you. For a very long time.

So, I learned how to put on a nonchalant face for just as long. Hiding the feeling of liking someone wasn't as difficult as I thought. Rather, if you hide it for too long, it feels like a part of yourself.

Smiling when I should smile, pretending to listen casually when you talk about someone else, and laughing off jokes that you seem to have someone you like. I thought that as one day passed and another followed, I would eventually truly become fine. But strangely, it wasn't like that. The word 'friend' was very strange.

It was a name that placed me in the closest spot in the world, yet drew an invisible line the moment I tried to actually reach you. A name that allowed me to be the closest, yet prevented me from getting any closer.

By the time the sun completely disappeared over the mountains, the festival began to take on its true nighttime form.

The lanterns at the stalls grew brighter one by one, and people constantly flocked to the shrine's approach. The sky, having lost its daytime blue, was gradually being dyed a deep navy, and beneath it, the red lanterns revealed themselves one by one like small flowers blooming in the darkness.

Walking among the people, the sleeves of our yukatas brushed against each other, and the sound of geta stepping on the stone floor continued in a steady rhythm. Someone ran past with cotton candy, and someone else was carefully cradling a bag containing a goldfish.

The smell of yakisoba wafted from somewhere, and the festival music and people's laughter mixed into the night air. You walked beside me, waving a fan. I tried not to think about anything while looking at you like that.

But it was impossible to begin with to have the person I like right next to me and not think about anything.

Then you suddenly stopped in front of a shooting game.

Let's try that. I'll beat you this time.

You said that last time too.

I'm serious this time.

You said that last time as well.

You looked at me with an aggrieved face, and I finally couldn't hold back my laughter. I laughed like that. You laughed too. I liked it when you laughed. So when you laughed, I laughed along.

Instead of saying I liked you, instead of saying I wanted to be by your side, to hide the fear that you might leave me someday.

Then suddenly, you said:

Oh, right. I got confessed to today.

It was that moment. All the sounds that were clearly audible until just a moment ago were pushed far away. The drums of the festival, the laughter of people from the stalls, and the sound of wind chimes ringing in the distance all became faint as if submerged in water.

I looked at your face. You had a face that truly knew nothing. A face that was strangely ordinary and nonchalant. Looking at that face, I thought for a brief moment. Maybe I misheard.

But you said it again.

I'm serious.

By who?

Someone you know too. Surprising, right?

Ah, I see. I smiled. Strangely enough, the smile came easily. Perhaps I had been practicing how to smile for a very long time.

...Really?

They asked me to watch the fireworks together.

That's nice.

The words came out too easily. So it was rather strange. Even though stories of someone else were coming out of the mouth of the person I had liked for so long, I was wearing a face of congratulations. Even though something was already quietly collapsing somewhere in my heart, I stood there like a person to whom nothing had happened on the outside.

The night deepened. The lights of the festival grounds became much clearer than during the day, and the lanterns of the stalls swayed long over the river water. People's voices were still full around us, but as it got later, the festival was becoming a bit more subdued.

We stepped out from among the people and sat by the river. The river flowed slowly, swallowing the darkness as it was, and people waiting for the fireworks were taking their spots one by one in the distance.

It was almost time to start. You checked your watch. And you stood up from your seat.

I should get going now.

Those words lingered in my heart strangely long. Like a small stone thrown into a river creating ripples, a simple remark slowly spread to the depths of my heart. I looked at you for a moment. And I smiled.

Like usual. Like a person who is fine.

Okay.

Do you want to come too?

No thanks.

It was a lie. I wanted to go together. No, I wanted to tell you not to go. I didn't want you to go to that person. I wanted you to be by my side, at least for tonight. No, actually, it wasn't just for tonight. Tomorrow, next month, next summer, and all the seasons after that.

But I didn't say anything. There were too many things that couldn't be said under the name of 'friend'. The sleeves of the yukata swayed lightly in the summer night breeze.

Then I'm off.

You turned your back. One step, and then another. I watched that back. It was a distance that could be reached in just a few steps, but strangely, it felt like the farthest place in the world.

At that moment— The sky split open.

BOOM.

The first firework tore through the night. Instantly, the darkness vanished. Thousands of lights bloomed in the sky, then disappeared back into the darkness as if nothing had happened. They were more brilliant than cherry blossoms and closer than the stars.

You stopped walking. And slowly turned around. I was standing there. I was smiling while looking at you. I probably intended to pretend to be fine until the very end. I should have. But strangely, my vision blurred. Something hot flowed down my cheek.

A single drop. I didn't wipe it away. Because I felt like if I wiped it, I could really pretend to be fine, so I just left it as it was.

The second firework exploded.

BOOM—.

It was a louder sound this time. Exclamations from people bloomed all around. The sky brightened again and then quickly darkened. I spoke in a small voice that seemed like it would be buried by that loud sound.

...Can't you stay?

I smiled. The corners of my mouth went up, but my voice kept trembling. Still, I smiled, until the end.

I like you too.

After saying it, it felt too late. It felt like all the seasons I had swallowed until now were coming up my throat all at once. The springs I couldn't speak of, the countless evenings we just walked together, and all the days you laughed without knowing anything came to mind all at once.

I know you better than anyone.

Fireworks bloomed in the sky again. I recalled the things you like one by one.

Your favorite drink, the food you hate, the habit of pretending to pack an umbrella on rainy days but eventually forgetting it, kicking the ground with the tip of your shoe for no reason when you're in a bad mood, the right corner of your mouth that goes up just a little when you laugh, and the fact that you're a person who keeps a single trivial word in your heart for a long time while pretending to be fine.

I knew you so well. Because I've watched you for so long. Because I've liked you for so long.

You don't even know I liked you first, do you?

My voice trembled. This time, it was really hard to smile. Yet, I eventually smiled. Perhaps that summer day was the oldest letter I could have given to you.

A letter I had been writing for a long time but could never send. A heart that remained in the envelope even as the seasons changed several times. Every time a firework exploded, the sky became bright like day for a moment, and every time that light disappeared, I looked and looked again, fearing I might lose your face.

Like a person trying to engrave it into their eyes. As if I might never be able to see it again.

The summer night breeze passed by. The light on the river water swayed. Fireworks continued to bloom in the sky. I looked at you beneath them. Like a person who, finally, after turning through countless seasons, called out the name of my heart to you for the first time.