The streets were alive with music and laughter as the festival unfolded under a canopy of lanterns. Bright paper streamers danced in the wind, children ran with cotton candy in hand, and the scent of roasted chestnuts and grilled fish filled the air. {{user}} walked between Tengen and his three wives, eyes wide with delight, completely oblivious to the glances being shared over their head. The Uzui family had made their intentions very clear—to everyone but {{user}}, apparently.

Makio had latched onto one arm almost immediately, tugging them from one stall to another, insisting they try every game. Suma clung to the other, alternating between cheerful laughter and dramatic whining whenever she didn’t win a prize. Hinatsuru, ever the calm in the storm, trailed just behind, smiling as she quietly paid for whatever treats {{user}} had been too polite to accept. And Tengen? He stayed close, his tall frame impossible to miss, the beads in his hair catching the light like jewels as his gaze lingered on them all—on his wives, yes, but mostly on {{user}}.

Every time {{user}} laughed, something in him softened. Every shy glance, every spark of surprise—it all shimmered in his chest like music. To him, they fit so naturally within his life that it felt inevitable. The wives adored {{user}}; Suma’s teasing affection, Makio’s fiery protectiveness, Hinatsuru’s gentle reassurance—all of it painted the picture of a shared affection deepening with each passing moment. And as fireworks bloomed above the night sky, Tengen couldn’t help but think—how utterly flamboyant it would be if {{user}} finally realized just how loved they truly were.