Chapter 13: Festival Frenzy

The week blurred by in a haze of festival prep, and by Friday, Yamato High was a riot of color and noise. Banners fluttered over the courtyard, booths lined the halls, and the air smelled of yakisoba and cotton candy. Riku had been roped into helping everyone—Haruka with her class's maid café, Mika with the library club's book stall, Yuna with her haunted house, and Aiko with the drama club's play. He was stretched thin, darting between tasks like a pinball, his usual quiet life buried under an avalanche of obligations.

Morning started with Haruka, who'd cornered him at dawn to set up tables for the café. She wore a frilly maid outfit—black dress, white apron, and a headband that made her look like a hyperactive doll. "Riku, lift this!" she'd chirped, pointing to a stack of chairs. He hauled them across the room, her cheerful "Thank you!" ringing in his ears as she adjusted streamers and practiced her "Welcome, master!" greetings. He'd blushed at that, mumbling excuses to escape, but not before she'd pressed a free coffee into his hands.

Next came Mika, who'd found him in the hall with a plea for the book stall. "We need signs," she'd said, her voice soft but urgent, and he'd spent an hour painting titles on poster board—*Edo Tales*, *Modern Myths*—while she arranged stacks of novels beside him. Her quiet focus was a balm after Haruka's chaos, but her occasional "You're so helpful" murmurs kept his cheeks warm.

Yuna swooped in at noon, dragging him back to the haunted house to fix a flickering strobe light. "You're my tech guy now," she'd declared, tossing him a screwdriver while she draped cobwebs over a mannequin. Her cat ears were back, and she'd swapped her uniform for a tattered witch costume that hugged her frame. He'd fumbled the repair, her teasing "Don't short out on me!" making it worse, but the light flickered on just as a crowd of first-years arrived.

By afternoon, Riku was a sweaty mess, his uniform tie askew and his hair plastered to his forehead. He staggered to the drama club's room, where Aiko waited, arms crossed and tapping her foot. She wore a flowing princess gown for the play—deep blue, with a silver tiara perched in her hair—and she looked every bit the regal figure, except for the scowl aimed at him.

"You're late," she said, thrusting a script into his hands. "We're rehearsing. You're the knight."

"I'm what?" he sputtered, flipping through the pages. "I didn't sign up for this!"

"Too bad," she said, dragging him to the makeshift stage—a cleared corner with a cardboard castle backdrop. "Our guy's sick, and you owe me for running around with everyone else."

"I wasn't—" he started, but she shoved him into position, her hands firm on his shoulders.

"Line," she snapped, stepping back to face him. The script shook in his grip as he squinted at it.

"Uh… 'Fear not, my lady, for I shall protect thee from all harm'?"

Aiko rolled her eyes. "Put some feeling into it. You're saving me, not reading a grocery list."

He tried again, louder, stumbling over "thee" as classmates snickered from the sidelines. Aiko played her part flawlessly—dramatic swoons, sharp retorts—while he flailed through his lines, tripping over a prop sword and earning more laughs. She grabbed his arm mid-scene, pulling him close for the "rescue," and his heart thudded as her breath grazed his ear.

"Stop being everyone's hero," she whispered, off-script, her grip tightening. "Focus on me."

He froze, the room fading as her words sank in. Before he could respond, the director—a wiry third-year—called a break, and Aiko released him, storming off to adjust her costume. Riku sank onto a chair, script crumpled in his lap, her voice echoing in his head.

The festival opened at dusk, and Riku was a ping-pong ball again—serving tea at Haruka's café, stacking books for Mika, jumping out from behind Yuna's tombstones to scare giggling kids. Aiko stayed distant, her play slotted for later, but he felt her eyes on him every time he passed the drama room. By nightfall, he was exhausted, his legs aching as he slumped against a booth, sipping a soda Yuna had tossed him.

Haruka found him first, still in her maid outfit, offering a plate of takoyaki. "You're amazing today!" she said, beaming. Mika followed, slipping him a bookmark she'd made—"For helping," she murmured. Yuna swaggered over, ruffling his hair with a "Best assistant ever!" Aiko appeared last, tiara glinting under the festival lights, her expression unreadable.

"Busy day," she said, her tone neutral but her gaze flicking to the others. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," he said, too tired to filter. "It's… a lot."

"Clearly," she replied, stepping closer as Haruka chattered, Mika blushed, and Yuna grinned. The air crackled with unspoken tension, four pairs of eyes on him, and Riku realized—too late—that his quiet life was gone for good.