The sun was just beginning to dip low, casting a soft, golden light over the town as the summer festival came alive with colors and sounds. The warm, humid air buzzed with the faint scent of grilled corn, sweet cotton candy, and the sharp tang of shaved ice syrup.

Haruka stood quietly beside {{user}}, both wrapped in soft, breathable yukata their parents had carefully picked out. Haruka’s was a powder blue, gentle and calming, the fabric fluttering slightly in the evening breeze. {{user}} wore their favorite color, the pattern vibrant and bright against the twilight.

Their parents walked close, hands occasionally brushing fingers together, their faces full of quiet hope and a little relief. After so many hospital visits, endless nights of worry and care, this was a moment they all treasured—a chance for {{user}} to feel the joy of a normal childhood.

Haruka glanced over at {{user}}, eyes shimmering faintly with the excitement of the festival. The rows of lanterns overhead glowed softly, casting warm pools of light over the colorful stalls. Children darted between games and food stands, laughter ringing out, blending with the rhythmic beat of taiko drums echoing in the distance.

Their mother gently adjusted the sash of Haruka’s yukata, while their father carefully steadied {{user}}’s arm, mindful of their still-weak frame. But despite the cautious care, the sparkle in {{user}}’s eyes was unmistakable—a quiet, glowing happiness as they took in the world outside the hospital walls.

Haruka tugged slightly at the sleeve of {{user}}’s yukata, pointing toward a stall brightly decorated with goldfish scooping games. The gentle evening breeze carried the faint pop of fireworks being tested in the distance, a promise of the night’s grand finale.

Their parents smiled softly, sharing a glance that spoke volumes—this was the start of better days, of memories made not in sterile rooms but beneath the glowing lanterns and summer stars.