Quinn noticed something playful in the air—bubbles, drifting up and around, blown by children running through the festival. The delicate, iridescent spheres caught the light of the fireworks, each bubble reflecting the vivid colors of the sky, the laughter of the children, and the faces of the festival-goers.
Quinn's gaze followed the bubbles, mesmerized by how they seemed to capture fragments of reality within their fragile forms. For a moment, the scene felt so familiar, like something from a distant memory she couldn’t quite grasp. She froze, gasping in shock when a flash of an image appeared in her mind. It was so sudden and fleeting that she didn’t have the chance to process it.
She stood there, unmoved, as the bubbles floated around her. One, in particular, caught her attention. It wasn’t the bubble itself that drew her in, but the reflection it carried—a glimpse of a man.
His figure appeared within the bubble, and though the image was distorted, Quinn felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity. Her heart skipped a beat, fluttering in a way that made her uneasy and excited at the same time.
The man walked slowly through the crowd, seemingly unaware of her gaze. His face was obscured by the bubbles, and he was looking up at the sky, his expression lost in the beauty of the fireworks. He wore a royal blue kimono, the fabric shimmering in the reflected colors from above.
As Quinn watched him, she noticed something even more peculiar—the color of his eyes, a deep, mesmerizing blue that mirrored the night sky. It was as if everything about him had stepped out of a dream she had forgotten.
Quinn's breath caught in her throat as the man’s face finally emerged from behind one of the drifting bubbles. Slowly, his gaze lowered from the sky, and their eyes met. In that instant, time seemed to stop.
The bustling crowd, the fireworks, the laughter of her friends—all of it faded into the background. There was only him, standing there, staring at her with the same expression of surprise and recognition that she felt. They both stood frozen, neither daring to break the moment. It was as if they had been waiting for this—for each other—for far longer than they could understand.
The man hesitated for a second, his eyes searching her face as though trying to place her in some forgotten memory. Quinn's pulse quickened, and she felt a strange mix of anticipation and fear. What was this? Why did her heart feel like it knew him before her mind could make sense of it?
As if caught in a trance, the man took a step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. Neither of them spoke. They simply stared at each other, waiting—no, willing—the other to break the silence. Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say, and the realization that she wanted to say something made her laugh nervously.
The man, too, seemed to struggle with his words, his lips parting as though he had a thousand things to say but couldn’t find the right one.
Instead, he smiled—a soft, hesitant smile that made Quinn's heart race even more. Seeing each other's confusion, their nervous energy turned into something lighter.
They both laughed, softly at first, and then louder, their laughter mixing with the noise of the festival around them. It was as if the tension between them had been released in that shared moment of uncertainty.
Quinn, feeling the fluttering excitement in her chest, decided to break the silence. “My name is Quinn,” she said, her voice trembling slightly but steady enough to carry her words through the air between them. “And you are?”
The man didn’t respond right away. His eyes were locked on hers, still studying her face with a kind of wonder, as though he had been searching for her all his life. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, but his voice was soft, just enough for Yukine to hear.
“Quinn...”
Her name on his lips sent a shiver throughout his body. It felt so natural, as if he had known her forever, as if he had been saying her name in his heart long before they had ever met. But something else lingered in the air—a sense of deja vu so powerful it nearly overwhelmed her.
The man took another step closer, his presence warm and comforting, even though he was still a stranger.
"My name is..." he began, but just as he was about to finish, a loud burst of fireworks filled the sky above them, momentarily drowning out his voice.
The colors reflected in their eyes, lighting up the space between them, and for a split second, Quinn swore she saw something else—an image, a fragment of memory, perhaps. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
He looked down, almost as if gathering his thoughts, but before he could say more, Quinn found herself caught up in the intensity of the moment.
“Do I know you?” she asked softly, barely realizing she had spoken out loud. It wasn’t just a question; it was a feeling, a truth she couldn’t explain.
The man’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps, or longing. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But it feels like I should.”
Quinn's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his words sinking into her. This connection, this strange sense of knowing without knowing—it was pulling them together, even as they stood on opposite sides of a mystery they couldn’t solve.
She wanted to ask him more, wanted to understand what was happening, but words failed her again. All she could do was look at him, feeling as though the answer to everything she’d been searching for was standing right in front of her.
"I think you haven't heard my name earlier," the man chuckled.
"I'm sorry," Quinn nudged her nose in embarrassment, chuckling, which somehow made the man's heart flutter— this is the person I've been looking for.
Before he could speak, another round of fireworks lit up the sky, their booming echoes filling the air. The moment between them stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and emotions neither of them could fully understand.
And yet, in that silence, they both felt it—the undeniable pull toward each other, the recognition of something deeper than the fleeting present.
Finally, the man looked back at her, his blue eyes filled with a quiet determination. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
“My name is...” He started again, his voice steady but filled with emotion.
But before he could finish, the sound of the festival around them seemed to swell, and everything faded into a blur. The crowd, the fireworks, the lights—it all melted away, leaving only the two of them standing there, suspended in a moment that felt like it could last forever.
"Satoru."