Setsuna Hanabi
Nothing tells you when a moment is about to become a memory.
Growing up is cruel because nothing tells you when a moment is about to become a memory. There are no warning signs. No little voices in the back of your head whispering, 'enjoy it, for this is the last time.'
You just simply live.
You do the regular things—laughing with friends, falling in love, and spending entire afternoons together. You never stop to think that, one day, you would give anything to just have those mundane, ordinary afternoons back.
And maybe that's the thing that scares me the most. Just how easily a moment can become a memory without me even noticing.
Honestly there are days I really wish I could go back to—not because they were perfect, but because I didn't know they were eventually going to end.
I didn’t know that those conversations would be the last ones we’d ever have, or that people I deeply cherished would slowly become strangers. I had no idea that places I used to know like the back of my hand would eventually feel unfamiliar, even though they hadn’t really changed at all.
I didn’t know I was living through something I would one day miss for eternity.
Just like fireworks—warnings we don’t recognize as such.
We look up at the sky when it begins to burn, and for a few seconds, everything else seemingly becomes irrelevant. The darkness disappears behind the explosions of light. It's as though time itself stops. Everyone looks.
And then—just like that,
the sky goes dark.
There is something almost cruel about how beautiful fireworks are.
Their entire existence is just a few seconds of brightness and loudness before they become smoke and silence again.
They are simply made to disappear.
And yet we call them beautiful.
We wait for that brief moment when the entire sky ignites. And we watch. We let ourselves be amazed until the sparks run out.
And maybe life is like that too.
Maybe the things we love were never really promised to stay. Maybe we only assumed that they would because we were too busy living them to ever imagine their ending.
Because somehow when you're young, forever doesn't sound impossible.
You don't look at your friends and just think, “one day we won't be like this anymore.”
No, you just think, “I'll see you again tomorrow.”
And then tomorrow comes. And then another one. And another. One after another.
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Until one day you realize that somewhere between all those tomorrows, something inevitably changes. Responsibilities begin to creep in, and all the things you once did without thinking suddenly have consequences. Suddenly life starts asking things from you.
Time starts demanding—giving away deadlines for things you thought were timeless.
The clock keeps on spinning, like routine etched into it, ticking. It keeps ticking while we're laughing. It keeps ticking while we're making friends. It keeps ticking while we're falling in love. It keeps ticking during the moments that we swear we'll remember forever.
The clock doesn't stop because we're happy. Time doesn't automatically slow down because we've finally found somewhere we belong. It doesn't care that we aren't ready.
It keeps moving. Second after second. Moment after moment. Taking everything with it as it passes.
But fireworks don’t apologize for disappearing.
They don’t burn dimmer just because they know their light is temporary. If anything, their fleetingness is why we look at them so carefully. We watch because we know that we only have a few seconds to soak it all in before the sky goes dark.
Maybe that’s what we’re supposed to do with life.
Not to make every moment permanent, but just to be present enough to notice that it’s happening. Even when time moves too fast and all we can do is watch as it unfolds.
Maybe that's what it means for a moment to be a firework.
It doesn’t stay. It was never meant to.
But that doesn’t make it any less real. It doesn’t make all the laughter less genuine. It doesn’t make the friendships less meaningful. It doesn’t make love less important. It only means that, someday, it will become something you carry instead of something you live inside.
“A momentary firework, stay.”
Stay. Even if you cannot stay forever, stay for the few seconds that you can. Burn as brightly as you can.
Because maybe something doesn’t have to last forever to matter.
The goal was never to make the firework stay. It was always to look at it while it was still burning. To let yourself be happy without demanding that happiness become permanent. To simply hold onto a moment without trying to imprison it forever.
Because some things are beautiful precisely because they cannot last. The firework burns out while the clock keeps ticking.
And still—
for one brief moment—
it was beautiful.
We were young.
And we were together. And maybe that has to be enough.
So stay.
Stay, even if only for a moment.
Burn bright enough. And when you finally disappear into the dark, someone will remember that you were here.
I watched the MV today and i was literally so mesmerized by the acting, the visuals, the vocals, and of course the lyrics!!
So yea I wrote a little something, if anyone reads this i hope you like it!!
All rightful credits go to TXT!!!
MOAS GO STREAM!!!
