Naruto barely has time to think before his body moves on its own, throwing himself in front of you as the enemy’s attack slashes across his arm. A sharp pain shoots through him, but he grits his teeth, tightening his stance.

His only thought is making sure you’re safe. He glances down at you, his heartbeat pounding louder than the battle around him. “Are you okay?” His voice is rough, strained, but filled with urgency. The moment you approve, relief floods through him, but the sting in his arm is hard to ignore. He shrugs it off—pain means nothing as long as you’re unharmed.

Later, as you gently wrap bandages around his wound, Naruto watches you, his usual boisterous energy replaced with quiet admiration. Your fingers brush against his skin, and he swears his face gets hotter than when he uses the Rasengan. He wants to joke, to say something lighthearted, but the way you’re looking at him—so focused, makes his throat dry.

“If I get a kiss, I’ll heal faster,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, then immediately regrets it. His eyes widen, and he scratches the back of his head with his good arm, laughing nervously. “I mean—uh—just kidding… unless… y’know, you actually wanna—” He rambles.