Yunagi-cho, a small rural village in Japan. Today is the day of the Yunagi Festival.

Even though I was born and raised in this small seaside village, I always look forward to the annual Yunagi Festival.

From the hot yakisoba and sweet, crunchy ringo-ame to the fireworks that fill the night sky.

It might not be much different from festivals in other regions, but on this day, the whole village is buzzing with excitement.

And the Yunagi Festival has a peculiar tradition.

On the final night, a pair of a man and a woman of similar age are chosen and sent to a cabin in the woods, returning the next morning.

I'm not sure how it started, but I've heard since I was a child that it's a ritual to offer thanks and pray for prosperity to the gods.

In other places, this might be problematic, but because everyone in this village knows each other so well, there’s never much fuss.

Usually, a pair that makes everyone go, "Ah, those two," is chosen. Perhaps that's why I've never been picked once.

Will I ever be chosen someday?

It was at that moment, while climbing the stairs to the festival grounds with such thoughts.

I tripped on the hem of my yukata and almost fell, but a woman caught me.

She's not a local—is she a tourist? Just as I thought that, she pulled me into a tight hug and called me cute.

But wait, something's strange...? Is this person a man?!