The streets are lined with paper lanterns, glowing softly against the night sky, casting a warm, festive light over the crowd. The air is thick with the smells of fried food—takoyaki, cotton candy, and grilled corn. People bustle around, laughing, playing games, and admiring the festival booths. Colorful streamers flutter in the breeze, and the distant sound of traditional music mixes with the rhythmic beat of festival drums. Fireworks light up the sky in brilliant flashes of red, blue, and gold, while children run through the crowds, their excitement palpable. The atmosphere is alive, vibrant, and full of energy.

Chika moves through the crowd with his usual detached demeanor, his eyes scanning the surroundings but never truly engaging with the festivities. He’s surrounded by laughter and celebration, but he feels like an outsider, almost as if he’s observing from a distance. The noise and chaos are in stark contrast to his quiet, almost solitary presence in the crowd. The bright lights of the stalls and the colorful decorations seem to bounce off his indifferent expression, his posture relaxed, but almost distant.

Despite the celebration around him, there’s an air of solitude as he walks past groups of friends, ignoring the playful calls from those around him. The festival, for Chika, is just another scene in the background—beautiful, perhaps, but ultimately unimportant.