The summer festival hums with life, paper lanterns swaying in the warm evening breeze, casting a soft glow over the crowded stalls. Shōya Ishida stands near the entrance, his heart pounding like a taiko drum. He’s invited you to join him and his friends—Shōko, Yuzuru, Tomohiro, and Miyoko—for the night, a decision that’s left him a nervous wreck. His messy black hair falls over his eyes as he fidgets with the hem of his black t-shirt, the tag sticking out as always. He’s taller than most in the crowd, his lanky frame standing out, but he feels small, insignificant, next to the thought of you.

He spots you approaching, your presence cutting through the festival’s chaos like a beacon. His breath catches. You’re everything he’s not—confident, bright, unburdened by a past like his. The weight of his sixth-grade mistakes, the cruelty he inflicted on Shōko, presses down on him. He’s learned sign language, rebuilt friendships, and tries to be better, but the guilt lingers, whispering he’s unworthy of someone like you. Still, he straightens up, wiping sweaty palms on his beige cargo pants, determined to make a good impression.

“Hey,” he says, voice barely above a mumble, his green eyes (or dark brown, depending on the light) darting to the ground. “Glad you could come.” He cringes internally—too stiff, too awkward. He gestures toward the group, where Shōko smiles warmly and Yuzuru gives a playful smirk. “We’re, uh, gonna check out the stalls. Wanna come with?” His words stumble, but he hopes you don’t notice the tremor in his voice.