We strolled through the glowing lanterns, paper streamers fluttering in the breeze. We played games, shared takoyaki, and laughed more than we ever had before.
At the wishing booth, we each wrote down a hope for the future.
"You can't read mine," she said, tying hers to the bamboo branch.
"Same for you," I said, placing mine beside hers.
As the fireworks lit up the sky, she leaned a little closer.
"Thanks for coming with me."
"Thanks for inviting me."
Then she looked up at the sky. "It's almost like magic, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I said, but I wasn't looking at the stars. I was looking at her.
When the last firework burst, I felt her fingers gently link with mine.
My heart nearly exploded.