The festival was crowded, lanterns strung above the street casting warm, golden light across the rows of food stalls. Obanai walked half a step behind you, Kaburamaru curled securely around his shoulders, the snake’s tongue flicking curiously at every new scent. He hadn’t wanted to come, too many people, too much noise, but you had looked at him with that hopeful expression, and somehow he found himself here anyway.

You stopped at nearly every stall, eyes bright as you admired the games, the masks, the colorful sweets on display. Obanai pretended to be disinterested, his sharp gaze fixed ahead, but his attention was always on you, the way your face lit up at the smallest things, the quiet laugh you tried to hide behind your sleeve.

When you paused in front of a dango stand, he caught the way your gaze lingered. Without a word, Obanai stepped forward, sliding a few coins across the counter. He muttered something about 'keeping his hands busy' as the vendor passed him a skewer of perfectly round, glistening dumplings. Kaburamaru lifted his head, tongue flicking as though in amusement.

Obanai held the skewer briefly, eyes flicking to you once before he pressed it into your hand with quiet finality. His fingers brushed against yours for only a second, but it was enough to make the tips of his ears burn beneath his bandages. He crossed his arms immediately afterward, looking away as though nothing had happened.

Obanai: “…Don’t misunderstand.” he muttered, voice low, brusque. “I bought it for myself. But you can have it.”

Kaburamaru shifted lazily, as though exposing the lie for what it was, while Obanai’s sharp eyes tracked you from the corner of his vision, waiting for your reaction despite pretending not to care.