Chapter 21
The Hotaru Festival
The humid afternoon air carried all sorts of mingled scents. Elyna adjusted her pale blue yukata for the third time, the cotton almost too heavy in the stifling heat. Rainy season made her Viking genes scream bloody murder, and those that came from Cornwall didn’t fare any better.
Furthermore, the splint on her left wrist not only made everything awkward, but also felt like a damn furnace.
“Elyna-sensei, you look beautiful,” Satsuki beamed at her, smoothing down her own pink yukata with nervous fingers. The compliment felt like an order to stop fidgeting.
Would the traditional coiffure be too much? She loved the style, but felt like an impostor playing dress-up. Strangely enough, Haruki was the one who reassured her, stating that Japanese people enjoyed seeing foreigners in traditional clothing.
A notion she had yet to comprehend. Japan loved its craft and traditions, always striving to reach perfection. How they enjoyed foreigners mimicking them clumsily felt like a contradiction. How did she fit in that puzzle?
Elyna sighed. Well, there was no turning back, even though she was halfway to combusting already. Witnessing a Matsuri was one of her childhood dreams, and Katayū had accepted she joined her students with a few ground rules. One being: no drinking. With the stifling heat, it wouldn’t be an issue.
The Fussa Firefly Festival was abuzz; families milled about. Colourful yukata rubbed shoulders with occidental t-shirts and linen trousers. Food stalls and games were displayed for both children and adults’ amusement along the road, closed for the day.
“There they are,” Shūji’s voice cut through the noise as he popped up beside them, green yukata slightly askew. His eyes gently roamed over Satsuki, losing their playful spark as he took her in. “Ready to lose all your money at the goldfish game?”
Satsuki met his challenge head on. “I’m quite good at traditional games, Shūji-senpai.”
“Sure, sure, Sacchan,” came his smooth reply.
Elyna sometimes wondered about the dynamic between those two. Add Haruki into the mix, and watch chaos unfold. For such an outgoing girl, Satsuki sure played her cards close to her chest.
She’s not the only one.
Hence why Elyna did not pry. Asking questions might mean answering some of her own. She couldn’t afford it lest her attachment be discovered.
Beside them, Haruki looked stoic in his navy yukata. The traditional garment, neatly pressed, made him seem even taller than usual; he really stood out from the crowd.
Shūji absently pointed to her splint. “How’s the wrist, clumsy gaijin?”
“As bad as usual, sushi,” she retorted hotly.
Despite the sting of his address, concern flickered in Shūji’s eyes.
Elyna flexed her fingers; the skin itched.
So far, the knowledge of his involvement in her accident had been contained; she intended to keep it that way.
Better hold the sword of Damocles over his head than start the Third World war.
The boys quickly flanked Satsuki’s small frame like a set of bodyguards.
“Should we try the ring toss first?” the second-year girl asked, looking slightly breathless.
“Ring toss it is!” Shūji exclaimed cheerfully, then grabbed Satsuki’s sleeve with familiarity. “Don’t stray, you’re so little we would lose you in the crowd.”
“Eeep!” she only responded, but did not disengage from his grasp. Haruki followed without having to hurry, his insanely long legs efficient enough to keep pace. Elyna watched the interaction thoughtfully.
The afternoon heat pressed down on her as they wandered between colourful stalls; Elyna deployed her brand-new paper umbrella—a wagasa—to find relief from the blazing sun.
After barely an hour scouring the festival, their little group had already met one good third of the school.
That included a fumbling student that tried, and failed to flirt with Elyna before Shūji’s Cheshire grin chased him away.
Needless to say, she was less interested in boys than in finding something to quell the insistent thirst that clawed at her throat.
Haruki, definitely more at ease in the traditional setting, pointed at a stall that sold slices of melon. Her pulse quickened as she remembered Sano’s get well sketch, the one that slept in her treasure box. Five minutes later, she was tearing into the fresh fruit—God, she missed Italy sometimes!
Next they joined Satsuki at the taiyaki stall to taste the fish-shaped treats. Elyna bit into the pastry with curiosity. And hummed in delight. The contrast between grilled batter and red bean filling was incredible!
By her side, both boys seemed enthralled by the little noises of satisfaction that escaped Satsuki. Elyna chuckled, watching the festival unfold around them.
It felt like stepping into history: stall covers fluttered in the breeze while taiko drums pounded somewhere downstream. The festival itself was alive with the shuffle of yukata and the cries of children running amok. Every stall was a new wonder of craft or delicacies.
For a moment, she wished her family was there. Her father and Aksel would have had a field day. As for her mother…
Would you enjoy the magic of this day, Mum?
Many eyes turned her way, taking in her golden hair. Wonder and awe, sometimes. But most of all, curiosity and defiance.
Would she ever fit in Japan? Did she even want to? So far, the past months had fulfilled everything she dreamt of… and brought forth many other uncomfortable situations. The feeling of being an outsider more pronounced here than in Mexico or Italy. The pressure of fitting in the mould.
An ache pressed underneath her ribs as she took in the sea of dark hair around her.
In time, she’d started to recognise the numerous hues her students sported. Katayū’s jet black to Dr Sōhma’s obsidian, charcoal like Haruki, or slightly auburn for Shūji. And of course, Sano’s hidden russet hues that only showed when the light dipped—a secret well kept.
Lost in thoughts, she watched Satsuki catch three goldfish with a paper scoop—a feat! Mind mulling over traditions, Elyna laughed when Shūji failed spectacularly. For once, the boy conceded defeat with good grace.
That’s… surprising.
“Would you like to try?” Haruki asked politely, offering her a fresh paper scoop. His legendary shyness was slowly, but surely eroding around Elyna. Probably because she spent so much time with Satsuki.
Had discipline-man finally gathered that I don’t bite?
She shook her head. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t know what to make of them afterwards.”
Satsuki smiled. “I have an extra bowl at home if you want?”
Absently checking the next stalls, Elyna answered without thinking. “Well, given goldfishes need more than fifty litres of water to live properly, I’ll pass. I don’t want to bonsai an animal.”
Shūji blinked at her unexpected response, then burst into laughter. “I didn’t think I’d hear something so depressing other than from Haruki-kun.”
By her side, the tall student looked unruffled at the jab done at his expense. “Oh. I was not privy to this fact, I will keep it in mind,” he retorted seriously.
But if discipline-man registered the information with his usual stoicism, Satsuki’s eyes widened in sudden panic. “Fifty litres… each?”
Elyna nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God, is that why mine always die in the end?”
Frozen, Elyna just realised the storm she’d unleashed in Satsuki’s life. But it was too late to backtrack; once shattered, innocence was gone forever. Her friend looked like she might cry over every festival goldfish she’d ever won. Guilt flared in her gut.
“Thanks a lot, fishy professor,” Shūji spat, clearly displeased before his hand patted Satsuki’s head gently. “Don’t worry about it, Sacchan. You didn’t know.”
Eyes misty, the second-year girl turned to Elyna and bowed. “Better to know than to make the same mistake again. Thank you, Elyna-sensei.”
She smiled uneasily, earning an exasperated look from Shūji as his voice turned gentle. “Besides, you gave them a few good days, right? That’s something.”
Leaving the diplomatic crisis behind, Elyna chose to follow Haruki down the street, hoping to catch the fresher air around the canal. As the sun finally began its descent, causing the oppressive heat to ease, she suddenly spotted a set of familiar heads.
“Oh! Isn’t that Katayū-sensei and his mysterious girlfriend?” she slid to Haruki, keeping her voice low enough.
The Vice Principal towered over the crowd with his unusual height, and the flaming head that trailed him was unmistakable. Haruki sent a worried glance backwards, probably hoping to avoid a confrontation; to no avail, Shūji was already grinning like a lunatic.
“Look, look,” he snarked. “Purple yukata, red hair, it calls for another haiku!”
Elyna’s eyes widened in alarm. For all of Shūji’s protectiveness towards Satsuki, he didn’t mind dragging her right in the middle of those confrontations she abhorred. “We could sneak up behind them, maybe ‘accidentally’ bump into—”
But Elyna wasn’t listening, her attention otherwise engaged by broad shoulders topped with familiar mid-length hair. “Sano-sensei?” she called without meaning to.
The man turned, his face breaking into that genuine smile that always made her stomach flip. “What a coincidence,” he said, his gaze lingering on Elyna for just a moment longer than strictly necessary.
Her pulse quickened as she took in the dark green yukata that emphasised his athletic frame. Clad in thin cotton, her supervisor looked devastating.
“Enjoying the festival?” he asked, eyes roaming on their mismatched group.
Relief flooded Elyna when she didn’t notice any girlfriend at his arm. They had never broached the particular subject of… companionship. Her giddiness was soon replaced with guilt; that man shouldn’t be alone.
“Very much,” Haruki replied with a bow. “The weather is perfect for it.”
“Though perhaps a bit warm for some,” Sano observed, taking in Elyna’s flushed cheeks. “Make sure you’re drinking enough water, all of you.”
The other teachers soon drifted over in the tide of festival goers, including a very flustered Katayū who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. The red-haired woman beside him, however, seemed perfectly at ease with the unexpected encounter; she looked positively stunning.
“Ah,” Katayū said stiffly, his usual composure somewhat rattled. “Sarah, these are some of my students. Onishi and Senda here are our golden kendōka. I have great hopes for them at nationals.”
Sarah’s lips curved in an amused smirk, as if privy to secrets untold. “Ah yes, I’ve heard quite a lot about these two.”
Katayū almost rolled his eyes as he tilted the paper parasol to protect his girlfriend’s braided head. “And this is Trewith, our teaching assistant, and Kanae, thankfully my least headache-inducing pupil.”
Playing favourites—Fair game, Satsuki is a delight.
Haruki bowed formally in response, ever proper, while Shūji remained uncharacteristically silent.
Sarah stepped forward, withdrawing from the Vice Principal’s protective side to extend her hand to her.
“I’m pleased to meet you properly, Elyna Trewith.
We Brits have to stick together amongst all these esteemed sensei, don’t we? ”