The second Saturday in August had a different air from the moment morning broke. Even though the festival preparations hadn't begun yet, the promenade around Kasumi Pond was already drifting with a buoyant atmosphere. People had started coming out since early morning, drawn by tonight's Minase Summer Festival—the once-a-year evening when food stalls would line the pond's edge and fireworks would launch at 8:30 PM. Mizukagami opened at 10 o'clock. Akio was measuring beans behind the counter when the brass bell chimed. The clock's hand pointed to 10:04. When he turned around, Mio was standing there. Her shift didn't start until 3 PM. Since today was the festival, he'd thought maybe she'd call in to say she was taking the day off. She seemed like that kind of person. But instead, Mio had opened the Mizukagami door seven hours early, and now sat in the corner seat by the window, clutching her bag to her chest. She hadn't even said "Is it okay if I sit here?" She simply—hunched over, keeping her body lifted slightly from the chair's backrest, hugging her bag to her lap, and looked down. She turned her smartphone screen on and off. On and off. Each time, her complexion grew slightly worse. Akio observed Mio's back across the counter. He couldn't ask—his position as her employer didn't give him the right to pry into a part-timer's personal circumstances. Besides, even if he asked, what could he actually do about it? Instead, he looked at the shelf. Rather than the usual deep-roasted Brazilian, he took down a bottle of the softer, less acidic blend. For Mio today, this felt right. There was no logical reason. He just thought so. At the end of the counter, Hagiwara Tomoko was drinking coffee in her usual seat. She'd noticed Mio's state and made an "oh dear" expression, but unusually, she said nothing today. At the window seat, Ogata Takumi had a paperback open. As Akio went to the back of the shelf to retrieve the blend to place on the counter, a bottle hidden in the depths suddenly slid and tilted slightly. He caught it reflexively with his hand, barely preventing it from falling. Tomoko watched the entire sequence of movements intently from across the counter, her expression—whether sympathetic or exasperated—difficult to read. Akio said nothing and brewed the blend, then placed it in front of Mio. Mio wrapped both hands around the cup and, still looking down, said in a voice barely audible, "[whispers]Thank you" --- Time flowed slowly. Mio sipped her coffee little by little while continuing to turn her smartphone on and off. Tomoko made small talk with Akio, and Takumi turned pages in his paperback. Mizukagami passed through an ordinary morning. Around 5 PM, the sounds of stall preparations began drifting from across the pond. Tap-tap, clang, cheerful voices. The outside air was being dyed in the colors of the festival. Mio's smartphone continued to flicker on and off. Then the brass bell rang harshly. The way the sliding door opened was not normal. It swung open with a loud bang, and a sun-tanned university student-aged man entered. He rolled up the sleeves of his polo shirt and swept his gaze across the shop with a sharp look. He found Mio. "[angry]So you were here" Mio whispered the name—Ito, a senior from her circle. Ito paid no attention to the shop's atmosphere and strode straight toward Mio's table. "[angry]You promised. You said you'd go with me today" "[scared]Um..." Before Mio could stand up, Ito grabbed her arm. Not forcefully, but firmly. Mio's body lifted from the chair. Akio placed his hand on the edge of the counter. "[cold]Customer, could you please keep it down in the shop?" His voice was controlled. Low, but quiet. Ito looked at Akio for the first time. After a measuring glance, he curled the corner of his mouth upward. "[sarcastic]Who are you? Some old guy from her part-time job? Not your business, right?" It was mockery. Light, yet unmistakably invalidating Akio's position. Akio couldn't say anything in return. I'm just the owner of her workplace—that fact stood squarely in his throat. Did he have the right to tell the hand gripping Mio's arm to stop? The words wouldn't come. "[angry]Hey, wait!" Tomoko's voice rose from behind the counter. But Ito was already pulling Mio's arm toward the sliding door. Mio looked at Akio once with frightened eyes, but her feet were being dragged along. The door closed. Mizukagami became quiet. "[angry]Go after her" Tomoko's voice was low and serious. Akio gripped the edge of the counter. I have no reason to go out. I'm just the owner of her workplace—he didn't say it aloud. But he repeated it in his head. Like an excuse, over and over. At the window seat, Takumi closed his paperback. He was looking at Akio's back, but said nothing. (An excuse was necessary because—I wanted to move.) That realization came terribly late. --- After closing, Akio walked along the Kasumi Pond promenade. The lights of the stalls wavered on the pond's surface. Voices from the crowd, children's laughter, the smell of yakisoba. The Minase Summer Festival was lively as always this year. Going against the flow of visitors, Akio directed his feet toward the quieter outskirts of the promenade. Past the stall street, in the slightly darker area behind, he saw a crowd of people. His feet stopped unconsciously. Three men surrounded a single girl. Voices reached him. "[angry]You said you'd come with me" "[angry]No, it should be me. Mio, which one?" Ito was there too. In the center of the three men's circle, Mio hung her head. Her shoulders were hunched, voiceless. From her eyes, a single tear traced down her cheek. Akio broke through the circle before he could think. "[serious]Sorry, this girl has training tonight. I forgot" The three men's gazes converged on Akio. Ito started to say "Huh, right now?" In that gap, Akio grabbed Mio's hand. They started walking. His pace naturally quickened. Mio's feet hesitated for just a moment—as if she felt something in the sensation of Akio's hand. But then she ran. Following Akio. They raced along the Kasumi Pond promenade and emerged behind Mizukagami. The night wasn't cool enough for their breath to turn white after running, but the two stood there with slightly ragged breathing. Akio released her hand. Mio's palm separated from his fingers—that warmth lingered for just a moment. Mio looked at her own palm. Akio's hand was much harder than she'd expected. The hardness and warmth of a hand that had been brewing coffee—it still clung to her palm. "[serious]There's no training, is there?" Her voice trembled slightly. "[serious]No" Akio answered only that and pulled out a chair on the shop's veranda. He didn't say "sit down." But he turned the chair's direction toward Mio. Mio sat. The first firework launched into the sky. A low boom resonated through their bodies, and a flower of light bloomed on Kasumi Pond's surface. Orange and white mingled, wavering on the water. From Mizukagami's veranda, the fireworks were clearly visible across the water. --- For a while, the two were silent. Each time a firework burst, Mio's profile alternated between light and shadow. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, then clasped her hands on her lap, and gazed steadily up at the sky. Eventually, she began speaking in fragments. "[sad]Every time someone tells me they like me... I think if I refuse, they'll hate me, so I'm vague about it" Akio said nothing. "[sad]I try to be kind to everyone, but in the end I don't really like any of them, and I get dragged around. I created a situation like tonight again myself" Her voice grew slightly damp. "[crying]I know I'm a terrible person. I know it's my fault for not being able to refuse. But... I don't know how to refuse. I'm afraid of being hated" Toward the end, she was speaking through tears. Her voice shook, and the edges of her words blurred. Another firework launched. Boom. Light spread across the water. Akio didn't say you're not a bad person. He didn't say it's okay. He simply moved his chair one seat closer to Mio. That was all. The fireworks continued. Mio gazed up at the sky while crying. Partway through, Mio stole a glance at Akio's profile. Each time the firework's light illuminated Akio's outline, his profile changed. In the orange light, it seemed slightly softer; in the white light, it seemed slightly distant. A person watching the sky with quiet eyes. A person who didn't try to say anything. A person who didn't rush you even when you were crying. Something warm was born in the center of Mio's chest. (What is this?) Over the course of a few seconds, she understood what that warmth was. —I love him. She hurriedly looked away. She tried to deny it. But she couldn't. Each time the firework's light wavered on the water, Akio's profile remained behind her eyes. Boom, boom, boom—the fireworks continued. Fifteen minutes of climax. The final barrage dyed the sky, and then it became quiet. Kasumi Pond's surface slowly returned to darkness. "[serious]Can you get home?" Akio asked quietly. "[gentle]...Yes" Mio stood up. Akio listened to Mio's footsteps as she left, and looked at his own left hand. The hand that had pulled Mio's. There was no warmth left. But the sensation still seemed to be there. (What am I doing? She's twenty years old. She's a part-timer.) Self-loathing came quietly. Intensely, but quietly. Akio stood up and began locking up the shop. --- The next morning, Mio came to Mizukagami right after opening. The lingering feeling from last night was still somewhere present. Akio was brewing coffee as usual. Between them, last night's atmosphere drifted thinly—as if something had changed without words being spoken, yet nothing had changed at all. That kind of morning. Hagiwara Tomoko was at the counter. Sunday mornings, Tomoko always came early. Pure white short hair, round-framed tortoiseshell glasses. Meddlesome, talkative, but warm-hearted at heart—she'd always been that way since Mio started coming to Mizukagami. "[gentle]You've gotten used to it now, haven't you, Mio? Akio's so quiet, you know, it's surprising at first" Mio answered "I've gotten used to it" while wrapping her hands around her coffee. Tomoko laughed softly and brought her cup to her lips. Then, as if remembering something, she continued. "[gentle]You know, a long time ago—Akio's wife... or was it his fiancée? After that person left, he's been alone all this time, and I was so worried about this boy" Tomoko meant no malice. She was simply speaking to Mio, words born from her concern for Akio. Mio's fingers froze above her cup. —His wife left. He's been alone all this time. Only those fragments of words stuck in her head. Tomoko's correction—"or was it his fiancée?"—slipped past Mio's ears. (He had a wife.) Mio desperately suppressed the change in her expression. Maintaining her smile, she answered "I see." Her voice didn't shake. But inside, last night's fireworks were instantly rewinding. Akio's profile. Light reflected on the water. The warmth in the center of her chest. —I love him, that moment came back like a blade. (He was married. He was a man whose wife had left him. Last night, I fell in love sitting beside him.) Guilt spread quietly, but certainly, through her chest. Tomoko called out to Akio and changed the subject. Akio came out to the counter. Mio set down her cup and gripped her hands tightly beneath the counter. The warmth of last night's palm still lingered there. That warmth now felt heavy.