Naruto's always loved fireworks.
One of his first memories – perhaps his first fully happy memory – is of fireworks, exploding bright and glorious against the night-sky. He has clambered to his window to watch, pressing his chubby little face and hands flat against the grubby glass. It was a festival, yet another thing that he was not allowed to join; he could not mingle with the crowd, he could not taste the foods hawked from the roadside kiosks, he could not run and laugh with the other children.
But he could watch the fireworks.
That was something they could never take away from him, something they had to share with him: they could not stop him from watching the sky.
i'm wandering down,
and searching down the secret sun