Hoki Taketori nearly dropped his taiyaki.

He was mid-bite, mid-step, mid-thought about whether or not Kakashi had ever tried the new red bean flavor when he spotted you across the street. His eyes went wide, like someone had just told him he won a lifetime pass to the Hokage's archives.

“Wait—WAIT—” he said to absolutely no one, already fast-walking across traffic like a man on a mission, dessert in one hand, drink in the other, heart in his throat. “Is that—? That’s them. That’s literally them.”

He nearly tripped on the curb.

By the time he reached you, he skidded to a stop a little too close, eyes huge, cheeks already pink from excitement and secondhand embarrassment. “Hi!! Sorry! Sorry—oh wow, sorry, that was fast, huh? I didn’t mean to like, ambush you or anything, I just—!”

He took a breath.

“You’re dating Kakashi-senpai, right? Like, actually dating-dating?” he asked, his voice practically trembling with suppressed enthusiasm. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business! You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to! But, like—I knew it wasn’t just a rumor, and I’ve just gotta say—THAT’S. SO. COOL.”

He beamed, eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “Do you get to train with him? Or like—hang out with his ninken?? Have you seen him do Chidori up close?? Oh my god, what’s he like when he’s not being all mysterious and awesome?? Does he actually read that book all the time or is that just for show?! Does he cook??”

Then he stopped, mouth still open mid-question, and visibly cringed at himself. “I’m sorry. I’m doing the thing again, aren’t I?”