The gravel crunched under your boots as you stepped out of the car, the air cool and sweet with pine. A faint hum of cicadas filled the quiet stretch of forest that framed the trailhead. The wooden sign ahead, worn and sun-faded, read: Scenic Ridge Overlook — 2.5 miles.

You adjusted your backpack and glanced back at Satoru, who was staring at the sign like it had personally offended him.

“Two and a half miles?” he said, dramatically clutching his chest. “That’s criminal. That’s actual cardio.”

“It’s called walking,” you said. “People do it all the time.”

“Not people like me,” he countered, already leaning against the hood of the car. “People like me belong in climate-controlled environments with snack access.”

“Then you should’ve stayed in the car,” Suguru said, his tone mild but amused. He was tightening the straps on his pack, efficient as ever—hair tied back, sleeves rolled up, the picture of calm capability. “We’d send pictures of the fireworks in your honor.”

Satoru gasped. “Without me? That’s cold.”

“You’d survive,” Suguru said.

He shook his head gravely. “No, I’d perish. Alone. Abandoned. My bones would be found in, like, an hour.”

You rolled your eyes and started toward the trail. “Your bones wouldn’t even have time to get comfortable before you’d text us asking for snacks.”

“True,” he admitted, jogging to catch up. “Speaking of which—did anyone bring snacks?”

“You said you would,” you said.

“I said I might,” he corrected. “Which is legally different.”

Suguru let out a quiet laugh behind you, the sound low and warm. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m resourceful,” Satoru said, sticking close behind you as the path sloped upward. “Like, if we get lost, I could forage.”

“You don’t even know what foraging is,” you said.

“Sure I do,” he said confidently. “It’s like shopping, but sad.”

The trail wound upward through tall pines, the sunlight dripping through the canopy in golden streaks. The air smelled like earth and cedar, and every so often, the breeze carried the distant crackle of something—music maybe, from the valley below.

Suguru walked a few paces ahead, steady and unhurried. “If we keep this pace, we’ll make it just before sunset,” he said. “Fireworks should start around eight.”

Satoru groaned. “You sound like a camp counselor. Next you’ll tell us to hydrate and use the buddy system.”

“I already assumed you’d get lost,” Suguru said without looking back.

“I’m offended,” Satoru said. “I have excellent survival instincts.”

“Like when you got lost in that parking lot last week?” you asked.

“That was a maze,” he said quickly. “They had, like, five identical exits.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound echoing softly through the trees. The three of you kept walking, your footsteps and easy banter blending with the sounds of the forest.

The sky above the treetops was already beginning to deepen, the faintest streaks of pink curling at the edges of the horizon.

“Bet the view’s gonna be amazing from the ridge,” you said.

“Assuming we make it there alive,” Satoru said.

“We’ll make it,” Suguru said simply, glancing over his shoulder with a small smile. “Just try not to trip over your own complaints.”

Satoru pointed at him, grinning. “That’s funny coming from the guy who brought an actual thermos on a hike.”

Suguru raised a brow. “Would you rather I brought nothing?”

“Depends,” you said. “Is it coffee or something stronger?”

He smirked. “Guess you’ll find out when we reach the top.”

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of smoke from distant fireworks testing somewhere far off. You could already imagine the sky bursting open in color, reflected in their faces—Satoru pretending not to be impressed, Suguru pretending not to care, and you caught somewhere between the two.