Walking through those crowded streets on his back, her mind would race back to that day and what came after.
When she returned to the stream for reasons unbeknownst even to her, was she trying to hide away any evidence of the crime, or did she just yearn to return to it to console herself over the reality of what she had done?
Kanami was pregnant, and instead of feeling happy, she couldn't help but dwell on the fact that that child would be born into this world without a father.
She knew how it felt all too well, which was why she believed that even if it was a man like him, they deserved to grow up with a father. But because of her, they never would.
As she walked by the bank of the stream, lost in thought, a flash of light from the bushes attracted her attention.
What she found when she approached it would be yet another thing to add to her guilt.
Looking down at his back as they walked through the streets on that festival night, the vivid image of it gnawed at her.
She got closer and sighed softly as she lost herself in thought yet again. This time, her mind went back to what he told her by the bridge. His reassuring words rang in her mind, but she couldn't help but feel anxious.
"I could see it in your eyes," she thought. "You knew the truth right away, so why didn't you confront me?"
"Was it because you didn't know me, so you didn't judge me like they would've, or is it because that's the kind of person you are?" she asked.
She tightened her hold on his shoulders as she thought, "I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid."
"You were like the spark that could set fire to all that I am. This guilt inside me—you were all that stood in the way of it consuming me."
"I followed you around and got closer to you, but I could never find any signs that you were planning on telling anyone. Despite this, I couldn't help but get closer."
"I think somewhere along the way, it changed to something else. I wasn't afraid of you anymore. Instead, you turned into the glue that held me together."
"It hasn't been that long since that day, but so much has happened," she thought. "It is undeniable that my actions were part of what set this series of upcoming events into motion, but even so, I'm grateful."
"Thanks to you and the others, I feel like I can finally bury that painful past away and move on," she thought with her head resting on his back. "But I could lose everything if you did finally regain your memories."
"Who knows what kind of person you would become then? What your motives would be, and what your opinion of me would be? What guarantee would I have then that my secret would stay safe?"
"I know it's selfish, but I want things to stay this way," she thought. "Thinking about it out loud, it makes me sound so much worse, but I can't help myself."
"You're all that I have left. Without you, I would lose myself. I know that it will happen one day. It has to. But from the bottom of my heart, I'm begging you. Please let this moment last a little longer."
The lights from the lanterns were dimming, and the people they walked past were thinning. Soon, they were almost all alone on the uphill path that stood at the edge of the town.
From it, you could see it all from below. All those flickering lights, those muffled laughs, those happy songs.
It felt like a scene out of someone's imagination. It was by the wooden rails along that empty road that he decided to stop and turn to face this scene.
When he looked over his shoulder, she didn't say anything. It was like she was lost in her own little world, so he didn't interrupt.
Instead, he kept looking down at the town. As he did, those muffled sounds suddenly felt louder. They weren't laughs anymore, but shouts that he couldn't make out.
This would always happen to him, always when he wasn't ready, always to remind him that there was something important that he was forgetting.
But in that moment, it felt like noise, the kind you wouldn't want in a precious moment. In the silence, one particular question came to him that he couldn't ignore.
"Why can't I stop thinking about what he asked me?" he thought, thinking back to Izumi and Lloyd on the day they were playing cards by the statue.
It was too vivid to be an afterthought, and it gnawed at him more than he expected it to. He heard it echoing in his head again.
"What do you think of her?"
"Why is it such a hard question to answer?" he asked himself. "Am I afraid that I will say the wrong thing?"
"All I can say is that I can't look away," he thought. "That passion and precision in everything she does, the confident way in which she talks and laughs without worrying about what other people think of her. She is so in tune with herself, nothing like me."
"But if I had to pick what I like most about her, it's that smile that's always on her face. You can never upset her enough to take it away. Sooner or later, it will come back brighter than ever."
"Bright and colourful," he thought with a faint smile. "Part of me feels like I never knew life could ever be this colourful and full before."
"Being with you and the others, it feels like I was tossed into a brand new world. Sometimes I do think of the world I left behind, but most of the time, I'm just cherishing the one I'm in now. A part of me wishes that it could stay this way forever."
"As much as I'd want that, though, something is bound to change sooner or later. That's why I don't want to waste this chance."
He lifted his head up and, with a firm expression, thought, "Once this is all over, I will find the strength to tell you how I feel. I promise."
As he said that, she raised her left hand and pointed out to the center of the town.
"It's about to start," she said. "Don't miss your chance to experience it for the first time."
When he turned his head toward it, he saw something shoot into the air. Once it was high enough, it burst, and for a moment, it left a colourful pattern in the sky.
Looking at it with astonished eyes, he asked, "So that's the fireworks that you were talking about."
She couldn't help but chuckle as she said, "There's still more coming, so don't look away."
Surely enough, they shot into the air one after the other, the flashing lights reflecting sharply from his eyes.
It felt like watching a miracle. Those colourful flashes were visible from all around the town. From the hillside where the two of them were standing, from the shrine where everyone else was, and even from the narrow window into the priestess' room.
Suddenly, everything that was coming didn't matter. It was only for a moment, but they were grateful for the chance that they were given.
All those different people with so many different approaches to the conundrum called life—how was it possible that they could all feel the same way in that moment?