Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Brilliant Clouds Scatter Easily, Glass Shatters — After Splendor Comes Loneliness

It had been a long time since he had relaxed like this.

Nagayama Naoki, who had unknowingly stayed until nightfall, suddenly remembered the boarding time of the yakatabune and hurried back.

The receptionist was still on duty. The moment she saw Nagayama Naoki walk into the hotel lobby again, she greeted him with a bright smile.

“Welcome back, sir.”

Such enthusiasm made Nagayama Naoki feel slightly puzzled.

It strangely felt like a wife welcoming her husband home. Was this what people meant by feeling at home?

“Yes. I haven’t missed the boarding time, right?”

“Boarding will begin in about five minutes. Please follow me.”

She led him toward the pier.

The small yakatabune he had reserved contained only four tables separated by bamboo screens, two of which were already occupied.

One table was a man and a woman wearing light yukata, clearly a couple on a date. Another table appeared to be a business gathering, with two men and one woman dressed in formal suits.

Compared to them, Nagayama Naoki’s plain T-shirt and jeans made him seem somewhat out of place.

However, his consistent workouts showed faint muscle lines beneath the shirt, and his fair skin—earned from spending long periods indoors—combined with his handsome face made the title “Tokyo’s Daniel Wu” hardly an exaggeration.

Hadn’t the girl in the couple and the elegant businesswoman both glanced at him with shining eyes?

“Sir, this is your seat,” the receptionist said. After guiding him there, she left somewhat reluctantly. “If you need anything, I’ll be at the front desk.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Even when boarding time arrived, the fourth group never appeared.

It seemed the boat would depart with only three tables occupied.

Small yakatabune were indeed expensive; unless it was a holiday, they were rarely full.

Several cold dishes had already been placed on the table, served in small traditional Japanese plates: pickled radish, boiled beans, chilled shredded kelp, tofu, shrimp dumplings, and cucumber rolls.

They carried a refreshing summer feeling.

Shortly after departure, the staff began serving the appetizers one by one.

Tempura arrived alongside several accompanying dishes.

Nagayama Naoki ordered a bottle of sake, eating and drinking leisurely.

The open cabin allowed a direct view of the river outside.

Night gradually descended. Red lantern lights reflected on the gently rippling water, scattering into fragments of shimmering light.

Lights along both banks turned on as well, mingling with colorful shop signs to form a vibrant nighttime cityscape.

Hurried office workers, playful children, and elderly people enjoying the cool evening appeared along the riverbanks before slowly fading into the distance.

Without the brush of any master painter, it already formed a living scroll of urban life.

People strolling outside occasionally cast their gaze toward the boat drifting along the river.

The antique-style vessel moved slowly through the water, red lanterns tinting a small patch of river crimson. Within the soft interior lighting, several blurred silhouettes could be seen, resembling ancient nobles enjoying a night excursion.

You watched the scenery from the boat, while those on shore watched you.

There was good reason so many people loved riding yakatabune.

As the boat moved forward slowly, the main course arrived.

Fresh tuna sashimi rested atop crushed ice, surrounded by lemon slices and wasabi, its translucence enhanced by green shiso leaves.

Nagayama Naoki rolled a slice with a bit of wasabi, dipped it lightly in soy sauce, and placed it into his mouth.

A cool sensation came first, followed by layers of flavor.

The tender fish almost required no chewing. Sweet freshness blended with the savory soy sauce and sharp wasabi, bursting together like energetic rock music playing across his tongue, irresistible and addictive.

A sip of sake, a bite of sashimi—pure enjoyment.

The couple nearby quietly displayed their affection, feeding each other pieces of sashimi while whispering and laughing softly. The business group drank more heavily, exchanging toasts and compliments as the atmosphere grew lively and bold.

Thanks to the wide river, the sounds of wind and water, and the bamboo partitions, it never felt noisy. Instead, it created a strange tranquility—being in the bustling world while remaining detached from it.

Thinking this, Nagayama Naoki laughed.

“Without realizing it, my state of mind has become quite elevated.”

Just as a vegetarian mushroom soup was served, the boat’s announcement system suddenly sounded.

“Dear passengers, the Sumida River Summer Farewell Fireworks Display is about to begin. Please enjoy.”

Sure enough, one or two minutes later, a firework bloomed in the night sky.

Then fireworks began launching along the banks of the Sumida River one after another.

Blossoms of light opened in the darkness, scattering and rising endlessly.

The rhythm quickened, colorful explosions competing in brilliance across the sky.

Purple burned with enchantment, green shimmered shyly, blue radiated cool elegance, and red glowed with passion.

It was as if the mythical Takamagahara opened a crack in the night, allowing mortals below a glimpse of the heavenly garden’s dazzling jeweled flowers.

Brilliant colors filled the sky, reflected on the water, entered the eyes, and etched themselves into the heart.

Emotions surged—intense, passionate, and unrestrained—as though they would bloom forever.

Yet beautiful things in this world never last.

Brilliant clouds scatter easily; glass shatters. After splendor comes loneliness.

The colorful fireworks eventually faded, just like every passionate romance.

Unlike the grand Sumida River Fireworks Festival of midsummer in July and August, this farewell display lasted only a little over twenty minutes.

It did not end abruptly at its brightest moment.

Instead, as the farewell approached, the rhythm slowed gradually. Each firework disappeared one by one, leaving behind only a trace of lingering regret in the audience’s hearts.

The dazzling colors slowly vanished from sight.

Yet in Nagayama Naoki’s mind, a melody associated with fireworks did not fade.

Accompanied by a faint sense of regret, it became clearer and clearer.

He had not expected a fireworks show to awaken memories from the past.

Shaking his head, the slight intoxication made reality and illusion blur together.

The music seemed to truly echo beside his ears, growing increasingly distinct.

“Damn… why does this feel like auditory hallucination?”

When the final firework faded, movement resumed inside the boat.

The nearby couple noticed something unusual about Nagayama Naoki. After a brief discussion, the woman called a staff member.

“That gentleman seems a little unwell. Could he be seasick?”

A waitress in a simple yukata approached and asked,

“Sir, are you feeling unwell?”

To Nagayama Naoki, even the waitress’s voice seemed accompanied by melancholic background music, though he could still hear clearly.

“It’s nothing. I just drank a little too much.”

He nodded toward the couple beside him to express his thanks.

He vaguely heard the man say, “See? I told you he was fine.”

On the other side of the bamboo partition, the business group resumed drinking enthusiastically, their conversation lively again.

Night had fully arrived, and the temperature over the river had dropped.

As Nagayama Naoki drank the warm mushroom soup, he began to sweat slightly, and the effects of alcohol faded considerably.

Yet the music in his mind continued to echo.

It seemed that listening to it endlessly during overtime work in his previous life had turned it into a permanent loop embedded in his brain.