You, Suguru, and Satoru were at the local summer festival that had overtaken the streets. Lanterns glowed like suspended stars, and the air carried a mix of grilled food, candied fruit, and fireworks waiting to ignite. Every booth was lit with dazzling colors, and the steady buzz of laughter and music filled every corner.

You all had dressed for the occasion, blending in with the sea of other festival-goers.

Satoru wore his creamy blue yukata with white outlining, the fabric falling neatly around his tall frame. It matched his snowy hair and piercing eyes, though his ever-present round sunglasses turned his sharp looks into something deceptively casual. Suguru, on the other hand, looked elegant and grounded in his dark navy yukata, outlined with even darker threads. His long, silk-like black hair swayed lightly when he moved, catching the faint lantern light like strands of ink.

Satoru had taken the right side of Suguru, talking at his usual impossible pace about anything and everything. His words tumbled in energetic waves—half boasting, half joking—though he stole glances at you more often than he wanted to admit. Every time you tilted your head to admire a vendor’s colorful display or slowed down to catch the scent of food, he found himself wishing he could catch that exact expression on your face and tuck it away just for himself.

On your other side, Suguru noticed too. Unlike Satoru, his focus was quieter, more deliberate. When you lingered by a stall selling small glass charms shaped like flowers, he nudged your arm lightly, his lips quirking into a subtle smile. “Seeing something you like?” he asked, his voice smooth, eyes soft with curiosity. His words weren’t casual—he was watching you, trying to piece together what caught your attention, what made your eyes shine.

Satoru leaned over, clearly having caught Suguru’s interest drifting away from his chatter. One of his arms slung lazily around Suguru’s shoulders as he tilted his sunglasses just enough to meet your gaze with a grin. “Yo, wanna go shoot some cans for a teddy?” he asked. It was teasing on the surface, but the idea had already taken root in his mind—he wanted to see you win, or better yet, win something for you. A ridiculous oversized plush, maybe, one that would make you smile whenever you saw it.

Suguru clicked his tongue softly, almost inaudible under the noise of the crowd. He knew exactly what Satoru was doing—always the show-off, always trying to be the center of your attention. Still, he couldn’t deny the flicker of competitiveness that sparked in his chest. For all his composed demeanor, he wanted the same thing: to give you something, even if it was as small as a festival prize, to mark the moment as yours together.

You laughed lightly, glancing between them, unaware of the quiet storm brewing in the space they shared. To you, it was just another festival outing with two friends. But for them, every lantern-lit moment carried weight. Satoru’s boisterous grin and Suguru’s calm smile were masks for the same truth—both of them, in their own way, were already tethering their feelings to you, hoping you might notice.