I used to go to a fireworks festival. I mustered the courage to go and see it after contemplating for a while about whether to go with a friend or not.
I remember buying some small fireworks that you usually light with a small match and playing with your hand. Enjoying the atmosphere of the festival that I had never experienced before. My heart was pounding beneath all those new experiences.
But an unusual event may have changed my perspective on the world.
As I tried to recall the unforgettable memory, but Mahiru called out to me.
"Kiyotaka, look at these little fish, they're cute."
Mahiru kneeled down as she took a closer look at the fish in the water tank specially made for this game.
They say you have to catch these colorful fish with a small net made of delicate and fragile paper. It sounds easy, but the tool you use tends to tear when you can't adjust the momentum and technique.
They call it "Kingyo Sukui." The challenge lies in the difficulty of catching the fish without damaging the fragile net. Players must carefully maneuver the net toward the desired fish and, with gentle movements, try to catch the fish accurately. Skill and patience are crucial in this game.
Every time a player successfully catches a fish, they are given the opportunity to take home the fish they caught. Usually, the fish are placed in a container provided by the game attendant.
I have played it before and remember failing several times before finally being able to bring home two or three fish. I still have the fish at home, but I don't know if they're still alive or not. Hopefully, Matsuo is taking good care of them.
After paying a few hundred yen, the stand attendant gave me some nets, and I handed them to Mahiru, saying, "Thank you, I'll bring home a few fish." I just nodded and said, "Are you sure? It's not as easy as it looks, you know."
I watched Mahiru trying to catch the fish, and there was one cute gold-colored fish swimming in the middle that caught her attention. But her eyebrows furrowed when she found that her net was torn and the fish got away. She tried again and decided to be patient, waiting for a good opportunity and gently trying to lift the net with her hand.
She tried again and again, but it failed. I had to spend a few hundred yen again to buy a net and hand it to Mahiru.
"This is difficult!" she exclaimed in frustration.
She looked adorable, and I noticed some people glancing at Mahiru with admiration.
Standing here, I realized that being around a beautiful girl could be troublesome. Even when she was frustrated, she looked enchanting and graceful. I decided to extend my hand and help her.
"Mahiru, you're too focused on just one fish. Why don't you try catching another fish?"
"But, Kiyotaka, that fish looks cute."
"To me, they all look cute. Why don't you try catching the one at the end? I think it would be much easier."
"You're talking as if it's easy," she said, as if challenging me.
Without a word, I took the net from Mahiru's hand and demonstrated my skills. I remembered being a bit frustrated in the past because I failed several times in my attempts. But from that, I realized where my mistakes were.
I focused on one agile fish near the edge. Slowly, I approached it with my net and lifted it. It required patience and perfect timing. You don't need to rush, but guide it carefully so that the fish won't be startled. With dexterity, I lifted it precisely.
