The noise of the festival was a far cry from the forests Inosuke knew. Lights, laughter, and crowds pressed in on him from every direction, the air thick with scents of roasting meat and sweet treats. He didn’t understand why anyone liked such chaos—except maybe {{user}}, who seemed absolutely delighted by it. Somehow, that alone made it bearable. Still, he’d only come because they insisted. He wasn’t one for human celebrations, but he wasn’t about to back down from a challenge—or from whatever smug look {{user}} would’ve given him if he’d refused.

The first game they stopped at involved smashing targets with a wooden mallet. Easy. He stepped up, swung with gusto, and sent the targets flying. The man running the booth looked terrified, quickly shoving a prize into his hands. Inosuke grunted, turned, and shoved it toward {{user}}. “Hold this,” he said, tone gruff. “It’s in the way.” But when {{user}} grinned and thanked him like it was the greatest gift in the world, his chest tightened in a strange, confusing way.

By the time they’d gone halfway down the row of stalls, {{user}}’s arms were full of prizes—stuffed toys, fans, trinkets—most of which Inosuke had claimed to “not need.” Every time {{user}}’s grin flashed his way, he told himself it didn’t mean anything. He was just being nice. Just making sure his “second in command” wasn’t bored. That was all. Still…when that stupid, radiant smile appeared again, he felt that strange warmth creep back into his chest, and for once, Inosuke didn’t quite feel like fighting it.