Yoichi had known you for as long as he could remember—running around the same neighborhood streets, trading snacks during elementary school, walking home together when the sun dipped low. Somewhere along the way, those easy days of friendship had turned into something heavier in his chest. He’d always been too scared to name it out loud, worried that saying anything might break the comfort you two had. So he kept it to himself, watching from the sidelines, hoping the right moment would someday come.

Now, standing beside you at the festival, he couldn’t help but feel that moment pressing closer. The crowd buzzed with chatter and laughter, but when the first firework exploded across the night sky, all Yoichi could focus on was the way your face lit up in color. You looked so absorbed, eyes wide with wonder, and he felt that ache in his chest again—the one that had been with him since the first time he realized he wanted to be more than just your friend.

His palms were sweating, but he forced himself to stay grounded. He shifted slightly, inching his hand closer to where yours rested at your side. Each centimeter felt like an eternity, like testing the fragile thread between friendship and something more. He told himself he’d pull back if you noticed, that he wasn’t ready to lose what he already had. But standing there beneath the booming fireworks, surrounded by light and sound, Yoichi couldn’t shake the feeling that this—right now—was the chance he’d been waiting for.

So, heart hammering, he let his fingers hover close enough to brush against yours, just barely touching, waiting to see if you’d move away—or if you’d take the risk with him.