I remember a day in my fourteenth year, a nameless page at the Mizumi Clan on the Central Continent, where dates drift like leaves on a slow stream.

Curiosity pricked like sparrow beaks. Outside, laughter chimed like windbells, with Littlesky’s voice bright as morning sun.

I tossed off the quilt like a wave, slipped on my shoes, and raked my hair like tousled reeds as I stepped into the courtyard.

“What are you doing?”

In the courtyard, Serenemoon, Littlesky, my parents, and several maids were tending little bamboo groves, green as rain. Even Qianji Sister was there, her sleeves fluttering like clouds. They all wore yukata. Was today something special?

“Ah, Emperor! Long time no see. Look how tall you’ve grown!”

Qianji Sister, in a white yukata patterned with plum blossoms like snow on branches, swept me into a hug. Her hand stroked my hair like a calm tide.

Ugh—her chest almost smothered me, plush as cushions. Not that it felt bad.

“Emperor’s getting cuter by the day.”

After a moment, Qianji Sister let me go, satisfied like a cat after cream, and traced my cheek with pale, slender fingers, cool as jade.

Serenemoon and Littlesky came over, while my parents nodded and waved like lanterns in greeting.

“Ah—little Emperor! Let me hug you too!”

Serenemoon sprang with open arms, lively as a swallow. I slid aside like a reed in wind, and she grabbed air.

Ow—thud!

She went down as expected, then rose, glaring like a puffed-up tiger. “Why won’t you let your sister hug you?”

“I just got squeezed by Qianji Sister. If you squeeze me too, I’ll be done for.”

I left Serenemoon nursing her pride and turned to Littlesky, sweet in a pale blue yukata like a clear pond. “Tell your brother what today is. Why the yukata, and why all the bamboo?”

“It’s the seventh day of the seventh month—Tanabata! You didn’t know?”

Her surprise popped like a soap bubble. At the Mizumi Clan, every festival feels the same drift, I thought. Tanabata’s basically lovers’ day, a red thread between stars. It shouldn’t mean much here.

Serenemoon heard my mood and laughed like water over stones. “Sometimes spending Tanabata with family is perfect. We invited residents of the Central Continent—magical beasts, spirit beasts, and elves—to join us. So get ready. Tonight’s a fireworks festival!”

“Oh!”

Fireworks tug at the heart like comets. Just as I was about to ask for details, a group of young men and women in yukata arrived, their auras wild as mountains and old as forests. They were magical beasts and spirit beasts in human form, with one or two elves handsome as carved wood.

“Ah, welcome, welcome.”

My father set down his work and greeted them, warmth bright as a brazier. “Are you prepared?”

“Yes. Thank you for inviting us, Clan Head of the Mizumi.”

The leader bowed lightly, then smiled. “We’ve prepared the supplies and stalls for the fireworks festival.”

“My, thank you for the trouble,” my mother said, her smile soft as moonlight.

“Not trouble at all. We long for lively gatherings like this. The Central Continent stays too quiet, like winter fields. We rarely get to taste it, so we should be thanking you.”

“Right! I was so excited I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Me too.” The others echoed, cheerful as birds.

“See?” Father’s eyes twinkled like stars. “Emperor, wash your face and brush your teeth. It’ll be your time to shine soon. Help the maids make tonight’s snacks.”

“Okay.”

Full days fold fast, like a fan closing. Evening came without a sound. By dusk, the maids and I stacked trays of treats high as small hills. My arms ached like strings after a long song.

I bathed, slipped into a yukata like cool riverlight, and went to join Qianji Sister and the others.

The festival grounds blazed within a kilometer, lights scattered like constellations. The place brimmed with people—besides the Mizumi Clan, mostly magical beasts, spirit beasts, and a number of elves. Food and game stalls lined the paths like bright boats, and hawkers called like drums.

It was my first time seeing such bustle on the Central Continent, a tide of faces and joy. My chest warmed like rice wine.

Bamboo groves sprouted everywhere, slim as green spears. Poem slips and little wish tags fluttered like sparrows. So that’s what Littlesky made me write at noon.

“How’s that? Lively, right?”

At our gathering point, Father stood tall, pride straight as a spine. Hosting a fireworks festival for Tanabata had been his idea.

“Very lively. Thank you, Father.”

“Ahaha.” He laughed, satisfied as a harvest. “All right, Emperor, go wander with them. At ten, the fireworks will be beautiful. Find a good spot early.”

“Of course.” I turned to my two sisters and my little sister. “Then, let’s head out!”

“Yay!”

We strolled through stalls, hearts light as kites. Some games—goldfish scooping and shooting—I'd only read about. Trying them felt like stepping into a story.

Qianji Sister, Serenemoon, and Littlesky kept tugging me along, eager as fireflies. When we tired, we found a snack stall and ate, steam rising like mist, then wandered again.

Smiles bloomed on every face, human and elf alike, radiant as lanterns. Many formed little teams, debating their next stop with warmth like coals.

“Hey?! Brother, over there—looks like a performance! Let’s go watch!”

“Hey, hey, Littlesky, slow down. Watch your step.”

“So mean! Emperor, Littlesky, don’t leave us behind!”

“Exactly! Look away one moment and you two sprint like rabbits. I’ll teach you a lesson later!”

Joy runs quickly, like spring water. Ten o’clock arrived almost unnoticed. Luckily, we claimed a spot at nine forty, or we’d be packed in like sardines.

In the center of a wide clearing stood dozens of big boxes, quiet as sleeping drums.

“Now I declare the final act of the fireworks festival—firework viewing—open!”

Whoosh—boom!

As Father’s voice fell like a gavel, Mother flicked several fireballs, neat as sparks from flint. The boxes answered, launching flames of many colors.

They burst in the sky like peonies and chrysanthemums, a garden of fire in full bloom.

“Oooh—!”

The festival’s mood surged to a peak, hot as midsummer noon.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Against the black silk of night, one blossom after another flared, a kaleidoscope of fire, blooming and shining without rest.

It was the perfect final stroke, a bright period at the end of the night’s sentence.

The end of the festival felt lonely, like tidewater receding, but it left a beautiful memory in me, clear as starlight.

Tanabata Special · End