The summer festival is loud and golden all around you — paper lanterns swinging overhead, laughter and music spilling through the streets, the scent of takoyaki and grilled corn wafting past as villagers wander by in colorful yukata. Naruto's wearing one too, navy blue with orange detailing, tied a little crooked at the waist because he insisted on getting ready himself and wouldn’t let you fix it.

“You look cute,” you murmur, bumping your shoulder into his, and he immediately flushes down to the tips of his ears.

“Wh—? Shut up,” he mumbles, but he’s grinning as he ducks his head, thumb brushing shyly over the back of your knuckles. “You look way better.”

You walk together through the lantern-lit streets, his arm constantly brushing against yours, pinky looped with yours until he works up the courage to hold your hand properly. He’s warm all over, his palm a little sweaty, but he refuses to let go. Every time someone bumps into you, he moves in front protectively. Every time you look at a stall with even mild interest, he’s dragging you toward it.

He stops at a prize booth with a stuffed fox plush hanging from the center and gasps like he’s seen god.

“Wait—wait right here. Don’t move.”

“...Naruto?”

“I got this, baby.”

Naruto throws five balls. Misses three. Hits one. Scowls. Pays again. And again.

By the fourth round, he’s gritting his teeth and muttering about how “this game is rigged,” and you’re laughing with your arms folded, cheeks aching. Finally, he lands the last shot, and the booth keeper, clearly charmed, hands him the fox anyway. Naruto turns to you, triumphant, cheeks pink and grin wide and making his eyes into half crescents. “For you.”

You blink at the plush in his hands, then at him. “You spent like five thousand yen on this—”

“Shut up and take it,” Naruto grumbles, thrusting the fox plush into your arms. “It’s a romantic gesture. I can do those y’know.”