The festival lights came on before the sun fully set.
Strings of bulbs stretched across the school courtyard, warm and uneven, casting everything in a glow that made the familiar feel briefly unreal. Music drifted from tinny speakers. Paper lanterns swayed in the early evening breeze.
Juni stopped just inside the gates. "…There are a lot of people," he said.
Elian glanced at him. "We can leave whenever you want."
Juni shook his head, then hesitated. "…Let's try staying first."
Elian smiled. "Okay."
They moved slowly through the crowd, shoulders brushing strangers, laughter breaking out in pockets around them. Juni's senses felt stretched thin—sounds louder, lights brighter—but not overwhelming.
Not yet.
He focused on small things: the smell of fried food, the warmth of Elian's presence beside him, the rhythmic pulse of music under everything else. Someone called Elian's name from across the courtyard.
A classmate waved, grinning. "You came!"
Juni stiffened instinctively. Elian didn't let go of the space between them. "We did," he said easily.
The plural mattered.
They shared skewers from a food stall, fingers brushing when they reached for napkins. Juni laughed when Elian dropped sauce on his sleeve, the sound sharp with surprise and delight.
"You're hopeless," Juni teased.
Elian raised an eyebrow. "You still came with me."
Juni rolled his eyes, smiling. For a few minutes, the world felt light.
It didn't last forever.
Juni felt it before he saw it—the tightening in his chest, the awareness creeping back in. Too many eyes. Too much noise. A group of students nearby fell quiet as he passed.
Someone whispered.
Not cruel. Just curious.
The kind of attention that reminded him he was visible in a way he hadn't chosen.
Juni slowed.
Elian noticed immediately. "Do you want to step away?" he asked.
Juni nodded.
They ended up near the back of the courtyard, close to the temporary stage where performers were setting up. It was quieter there, shadows pooling between the lights.
Juni exhaled shakily. "…I was having fun," he said. "And then I wasn't."
Elian nodded. "That happens."
Juni glanced at him. "You're not disappointed?"
Elian shook his head. "No. I'm impressed you stayed as long as you did."
Juni huffed a small laugh. "That's not exactly a compliment."
"It is to me."
Music swelled as the first performance began. The crowd's attention shifted away from them, easing the pressure. Juni leaned back against the fence, shoulders relaxing.
"…I don't want to miss everything," he said quietly.
Elian considered that. "We don't have to," he said. "We can move in and out."
Juni nodded. "Together?"
Elian smiled. "Together."
They rejoined the crowd, this time staying closer to the edges. Juni let himself watch the performance, the dancers moving in time, lights flickering across their faces.
For a moment, he forgot to be afraid. Elian felt it when Juni's hand brushed his—intentional this time. Juni didn't pull away. They stood like that, fingers barely touching, as the music carried on.
When the song ended, applause rippled through the courtyard.
Juni smiled—small, real. "…I think this counts," he said.
Elian squeezed his fingers once, gentle. "It does."
Joy hadn't erased the tension. And the tension hadn't erased the joy. They coexisted, fragile and bright, under the festival lights. And for the first time, Juni felt like that might be enough.