Time flowed on, and the years passed without a sound.
In the blink of an eye.
The setting sun sank westward; the bright moon climbed in the east.
Night was falling.
Orange twilight spilled across Inazuma City. A gentle wind drifted through the streets, and the kites printed with "The Way of Eternity is Grand, Narukami Everlasting" still floated high in the sky.
In front of the Yae Publishing House, the crowds had thinned out at last.
Cooking smoke curled up from house after house, and Inazuma City hummed with life.
Naganohara Yoimiya, who on any ordinary day would have been the loudest, liveliest thing in sight, sat quietly on the bench outside the fireworks shop, the orange dusk pooling on her fair, pretty face.
A soft breeze brushed past.
Tears spilled from the girl's eyes and fell onto the clean pages as, in the book, Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi and the others sent up the fireworks they had prepared for Hayama Meiko.
Menma's wish had been fulfilled, and as the fireworks faded…
She vanished…
In the book.
Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi and the others wept too, and so did Hayama Meiko's parents.
Fang Qiu had foreshadowed that ending from the very first page. There was no reversal, no twist. It was told plainly, straight through, exactly as promised.
And yet, when the moment finally came, Yoimiya couldn't hold back the grief rising in her, and she cried right along with the characters on the page.
"Fireworks fade, but feelings last. I never thought Miss Fang Qiu would understand what fireworks really mean. I can't wait to meet her — I want to talk with her about fireworks for hours," Naganohara Yoimiya murmured, wiping the corners of her eyes and glancing at the letter and the fireworks resting beside her.
To pour feeling and wish into a firework, and make something fleeting last forever.
The Menma of Fang Qiu's pen hadn't been hoping to see the fireworks bloom at all. What she had longed for was the sight of the friends she'd grown up with making peace again, working side by side toward those fireworks.
That was exactly what fireworks were for.
Their wish to do this together for Menma, and Menma's own wish that Jintan's mother would get better — all of it, carried by Fang Qiu's achingly romantic prose.
Burned deep into the mind. A memory for a lifetime.
Years from now, when they looked up at that same firework again, the feeling would surely come rushing back over them like a tide.
And they would remember that girl who was like summer itself.
So noisy, so warm, so lovely, so sad…
But even if the sadness brought them to tears, the memory of Menma was one they would never, ever want to forget.
She let out a long breath and read on.
Then a single line — "Wow, a flower bloomed in the sky!" — yanked Naganohara Yoimiya straight out of her grief.
Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi turned around to find Hayama Meiko cheering, and once she realized she hadn't disappeared after all, she tilted her head and rapped lightly on it with a knuckle.
"Heh."
Naganohara Yoimiya's eyes went wide at the scene.
Delight lit up her face.
Menma hadn't vanished?
There weren't many pages left. Could the ending really be that Menma stayed?
Or maybe the gods had answered, and brought Menma back to life?
If that were true, that would be wonderful!
They could watch so many more fireworks together, all of them.
And let every single bloom be carved into their hearts.
She got up and lit the lantern hanging by the shop door, and in its bright, dancing glow, Naganohara Yoimiya settled back down with a smile and kept reading.
Hayama Meiko went home to Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi's house and told his mother that she had finally finished the task her aunt had given her — and then she collapsed hard to the floor.
The smile froze on Naganohara Yoimiya's face.
She read on, frantic now.
She read the letter Hayama Meiko had written to Jintan and the others. She read them shouting "Menma, we found you!" at the girl whose body was already going transparent in the light of the rising sun. She read Hayama Meiko, her face streaked with tears, gazing at her friends with unbearable reluctance and saying, "You found me." And when she reached the little poem Fang Qiu had written down the side of the page, the tears came all at once.
Menma… she really did disappear…
"Our meeting was nothing but a small, small moment, at a crossroads on the way home… ah, brilliant fireworks bloom in the night sky, lighting up the scattered sorrow… ah, the wind and the hours slip away together, and we were so happy, so glad, we shared so many adventures…"
Tears kept falling onto the pages, and no matter how she wiped at them, they wouldn't stop.
Sorrow came like a flood and swallowed her whole.
Menma…
Such a good girl. How could she die like that…
Even after everything she'd been through, she never held the slightest grudge against the friends she'd once had…
She couldn't let them go, so she came back on purpose just to bring them together again.
Just as Fang Qiu had written in the book.
If Menma had grown up in the ordinary way, like anyone else, she surely would have become Jintan's bride.
If only it had gone that way. How good that would have been…
The thought made Naganohara Yoimiya's chest ache all over again.
How could Miss Fang Qiu be cruel enough to take such a lovely girl out of the world…
It was too much…
"Oh my, what's the matter, dear? Crying like that? Here, use this to dry your eyes."
A kindly voice spoke up.
At the same moment, someone held out a white handkerchief in front of her.
"Thank you."
Still crying, Naganohara Yoimiya took the handkerchief. It was a good while before she dried her eyes and looked up at the person standing there.
It was an old woman with hair gone entirely white, her back slightly stooped, smiling down at her.
"Did something sad happen? Tell an old lady about it," the grandmother said with a smile.
"It's nothing. I just read a book that moved me, that's all," Naganohara Yoimiya said, smiling back.
But the smile only sent fresh tears sliding down her clean cheeks.
She hurried to wipe them away, then stood and helped the old woman sit down. "Granny, was there something you needed?"
"Nothing serious. I only wanted to ask your family to make a firework for me. Here's the formula."
The old woman smiled, and as she spoke she drew a slip of paper covered in writing from her pocket.
"I see. Leave it to me. Let me pour you some tea," Naganohara Yoimiya said cheerfully.
"No rush. Rest a while first — look, you're crying again," the grandmother said, smiling.
"It's fine, it's fine, it'll pass in a minute." Naganohara Yoimiya brushed the tears away and grinned.
With that she let out a long breath, patted her pale cheeks, and went running into the house.
"Pop, where'd you put the tea leaves?"
"What?"
"Where are the tea leaves!"
"The teapot's right there on the table!"
"No — I said tea leaves!"
"Teacups?"
"Never mind, I found them. Get back to work, Pop."
A moment later Naganohara Yoimiya came trotting back out with a pot of tea and poured the old woman a cup.
She tucked the letter and the book safely away and sat down beside her.
"Granny, when was this firework commissioned?" Naganohara Yoimiya asked, glancing at the somewhat yellowed slip of paper.
The old woman smiled and looked up at the sky, her face full of memory. "It's been fifty years now."
"Would you tell me your story?" Naganohara Yoimiya asked.
She didn't just want to recreate the shape of the firework. She wanted to fold the whole of it in — how they met, how they came to know each other, to understand each other, to love each other, to stay together — all their feelings and wishes from back then, burned into the light.
A festival, brought back to life.
"Of course."
The old woman nodded and smiled. "It was a night more than fifty years ago. Back then I'd just been thrown out by my family. No home, nowhere to go, drifting from place to place. And that was when he appeared in front of me — splendid clothes, a spirited horse, a young man in his prime…"
The old woman drifted back through her past, and Naganohara Yoimiya simply sat and listened, feeling the silent turning of years in her words.
Fireworks fade, but feelings last.
The old woman didn't talk for long. Soon she took her leave.
After seeing her off, Naganohara Yoimiya breathed out slowly and got ready to throw herself straight into making the firework.
That was when she remembered: the copy in her hands was the deluxe edition.
Which meant this printing included Miss Fang Qiu's afterword.
She put the formula slip away carefully, dropped back onto the bench, and flipped to the last page of anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day.
"There really is an afterword," Naganohara Yoimiya murmured.
Her nose stung again all at once.
Menma…
She bit her lower lip and read on.
[Thank you all for your kindness. I am Fang Qiu, the author of this book…]
Reading the truths Fang Qiu laid out in her afterword, Naganohara Yoimiya found herself curious about this Wangsheng Funeral Parlor she kept mentioning.
"No wonder the advertisement called it a story about healing and redemption. So Miss Fang Qiu put that much thought into it. What a gentle person."
Naganohara Yoimiya nodded slowly, thinking it over.
Then she reached the final passage, and stopped dead.
"Thoma asked her to write this kind of story? This kind… is this the kind of thing worth breaking hearts over?"
She was still puzzling over what Fang Qiu had meant when a burst of noise came from the direction of the Yae Publishing House.
Out of all that furious clamor, Naganohara Yoimiya only caught one word clearly.
"Thoma!"
At that moment, the Komore Teahouse was terrifyingly quiet.
Dead silent.
Lumine, Paimon, and Kamisato Ayaka all had red eyes fixed on Thoma. Clearly, all three of them had been crying their hearts out.
Thoma, pinned under those stares, felt a chill crawl up his spine. He swallowed and didn't dare move.
Outside the window, the wind blew past.
The candle flames inside swayed gently, the light guttering bright and dim.
The pages of the copy of anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day lying beside them fluttered up and down in the draft.
On those pages was Fang Qiu's sprawling afterword — and in the last paragraph, Fang Qiu thanking Thoma for writing in and asking her to write this kind of story.
The wind picked up slightly and flipped two pages back from the afterword.
There, on the page, was Hayama Meiko under the tree, saying goodbye to Jinta "Jintan" Yadomi and the others.
"Menma still wants to be with everyone, still wants to play with everyone, so I'm going to be reborn, and then I can be with everyone again. So — Jintan cried, and everyone said their goodbyes, so…"
"One, two!"
"Menma, we found you!"
"You found me…"
Grief thick enough to smother.
The silence dragged on so long that Thoma finally couldn't stand it another second.
"Um… this is a misunderstanding. Traveler, Paimon, Milady, you have to believe me. Yes, I did ask her to write a ghost story, but I had no idea she'd write this kind of ghost story!" Thoma swallowed and forced a smile.
He honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He'd wanted Miss Fang Qiu to write a ghost story. And Miss Fang Qiu had gone and…
Well, she had written a ghost, technically. And it was very good. But it was absolutely not the same thing he'd asked for…
This…
For the moment, he had no idea what else to say.
The Traveler, Paimon, and Kamisato Ayaka all just looked at him in silence.
Silence. Stillness.
It went on for a good long while.
"Thoma, we believe you. Oh, and Thoma — Paimon hasn't played the Hot Pot Game with you in ages. Let's play that tonight. What do you think, Ayaka?" Paimon said after a bit of thought.
"If Paimon wants to play, then — Thoma, let's play the Hot Pot Game tonight." Kamisato Ayaka wiped her eyes and nodded.
"The Hot Pot Game again…"
Hearing his young lady's words, Thoma's face fell into pure misery.
Last time he'd played the Hot Pot Game with the Master of the house and Miss Kamisato, every single bizarre thing in the pot had ended up in his bowl. It had nearly taken half his life.
And now again…
"Oh, right — Traveler, Ayaka, why don't the two of you spar with Thoma to test your swordsmanship?" Paimon said, hands planted on her hips.
"Sure."
Looking at Paimon's swaggering little pose, Lumine swallowed the urge to comment and nodded along with Kamisato Ayaka.
"That… let's just play the Hot Pot Game, Milady… what would you all like to eat? I'll go buy it right now." Seeing the distinctly unfriendly gleam in Lumine's and Kamisato Ayaka's eyes, Thoma coughed awkwardly.
He had no doubt at all that after taking the beating, he'd still have to play the Hot Pot Game…
"Aubergine, glutinous rice balls, cheese…"
And so Paimon started listing ingredients.
It was fine at first — all perfectly edible things. But the further she went, the stranger it got, and a few culinary horrors crept onto the menu.
Onikabuto, for instance…
Once she'd finished listing the Hot Pot Game ingredients, Paimon also told Thoma to buy her a pile of delicious dishes.
She intended to drown her sorrows in appetite.
Thoma agreed, helplessly.
Watching Paimon rattle off yet more dish names at him, Lumine glanced with a resigned little sigh at the afterword in the book beside her.
She knew perfectly well that none of this was Thoma's fault.
No wonder the letter Miss Fang Qiu sent Thoma had seemed so ordinary. She'd tucked her revenge into the afterword instead.
When all those novel lovers read it, they'd probably tear the place apart.
Well, that settled it.
Thoma probably wouldn't be able to leave the house for the rest of the month.
Mm… and probably not next month either…
Picturing Fang Qiu curled up inside a Jumpy Dumpty somewhere, snickering to herself, Lumine felt the corners of her mouth curve up.
Compared with the soft, delicate Miss Fang Qiu, her little-devil side was every bit as adorable.
Thoma was the one who'd tried to scare Fang Qiu with a ghost story, after all. Now she'd gotten her own back.
After all, last time Fang Qiu had very nearly been frightened out of her…
She laughed softly and exchanged a glance with Kamisato Ayaka, and the two of them smiled again.
In the end, Thoma agreed to the Hot Pot Game, and to buying Paimon a mountain of good food.
The Onikabuto, of course, was vetoed.
On the grounds that Lumine and Kamisato Ayaka couldn't stomach it either.
In the end, the Onikabuto was swapped out for Slime Concentrate.
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