Chapter 29: The Festival Draws Closer

The school was humming with excitement. Tomorrow was the festival students have been waiting for, and the air was filled with fatigue and excitement. Colorful decorations hung from the ceilings of classrooms, adjustments were being made to the banners, and students scurried about putting the final touches on their booths.

Haruto Kirigami didn't care much for school events, but he could not ignore the aura buzzing around him. Upon entering the classroom, he saw that Nasaki Kitta was chatting with a group of girls at the side of the window. She was helping them to finalize their poster for the café booth, the tone of her voice very different from the coarse and cynical timbre that Haruto had ever heard from her.

She was always sociable, but these days... she's looking extra socially involved.

However, he didn't dwell too long in thought. He made for his seat, but just as he settled down...

"Kirigami! Help us out for a sec!"

With a sigh, Haruto resigned himself: he had seen this coming. After he had adorned the day prior, more and more classmates had begun treating him like a real participant of the festival.

Reluctantly, he stood and walked over to where a couple of boys were struggling with a wooden stand in fitting up the entrance display for the café.

"It's a bit wobbly," he heard another one of the boys remark as he lightly hobbled a wooden stilt.

Haruto crouched down and looked at the base. "You didn't fasten the screws properly."

"Ah—Seriously? Man, we're bad at this."

Haruto rolled his eyes and took a screwdriver from the table. As he worked, Nasaki approached him.

"Pretty useful after all, Kirigami," she observed, resting her chin on her palm as she gazed at him.

"Shut up," Haruto murmured, tightening in the last screw.

Nasaki chuckled. "You get more involved than I expected. Maybe you actually enjoyed it?"

For a second, Haruto hesitated. Did he? That was impossible. He was helping merely to prevent a loud complaint from bothering him.

"No," he replied while standing. "It's just easier to get the job done than watch you pain in the butt with the work."

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," Nasaki slurred.

Later on in the afternoon, Haruto and Nasaki were assigned to paint the final menu board for the café.

Nasaki was meticulously writing a list of special drinks at the café in elegant cursive handwriting while Haruto was filling in with the background color. For some time, they worked in silence, apart from the occasional crackle of paper and chatter from students nearby.

There came the moment Nasaki leaned over to grab a different paintbrush—and accidentally smeared a bit of paint on her cheek.

Haruto noticed.

"Oi. You have paint on your face."

"Ih? Where?" Nasaki blinked.

Haruto hesitated. Then, without much thought, he simply moved in and wiped off the smear from her cheek with his thumb.

The moment felt long.

Nasaki's breath slightly caught; her eyes met with Haruto's, warm fingers felt against her skin. For a second, they were both still.

Then he became painfully aware of what he had just done.