Chapter 1- Breakfast Is the Most Important Meal of the Day
Hi there! Uzumaki Naruto here. I'm in 8th grade, gorgeous, and the most popular guy…at my lunch table. Hey, at least I'm interesting! You can learn all about my talents (playing ninja; sleeping though anything, anywhere, anytime; videogames), hobbies (there are many of those), and obsessions. Mainly, one. Oh no, there's another one-besides ramen-which I think I'll tell you about right now.
I think I'm in love with this guy. He's good looking (you should see all the girls that flock around him all the time), gets straight A's, and is captain of the soccer team (which I wanna get into SOOOO badly!), too. He also has many friends (sort-of friends, more like servants) and has been confessed to many times before.
He's Uchiha Sasuke. Who also happens to be my best friend/archenemy/rival for life.
Which is bad, because it appears that I've entered a territory of hormonal teenage life that has dragged many brave adventurers to ruin, with no hope of crawling back out-?
The friend zone. (Psst!-It's even worse than the twilight zone!)
Ugh. Friend zoned. I've been friend zoned. It's such a horrible state to be in. I see Sasuke's handsome face every day, knowing that if I confess, it would mean everything between us (all the friendship and rainbows and stuff) might change, for better or worse, forever.
I-I'm not-I'm not manly enough to do that. (Sniffles) Even though I want him so badly, I always tell myself to wait until the end of the year, maybe, to tell the teme. Then we could both graduate and if there's any rejection-which would lead to loads and loads of awkwardness-I wouldn't have to face him for a long time. Or possibly never again.
(Ponders for a moment) Wow, look at the time! I quickly get dressed, pulling on my crumpled school uniform that had been lying on the floor. Come on, not everyone's a neat freak like Neji. Or Sasuke. Rubbing my cheeks to get rid of the light pink blush that magically appeared at the thought of my childhood friend; I head straight to the kitchen cupboard and pull out a cup of instant ramen. Mmmm…how should I prepare it today? Should I put the water first, or the flavoring? So many ways to do it that all lead to the same result: A steaming, fragrant meal of soft bouncy noodles, drowning in delicious miso-flavored soup.
Well, I'm leaning more toward the "water first" method, but at the same time I want-
SLAM! My front door is assaulted by anonymous hands.
Grrr! Who dares interrupt my precious moment of temporary calmness!?
"DOBE! What are you doing? We're gonna be late for class!" Oh. That's who.
"Shut up! I'm spending time with my ramen here! It's something you wouldn't understand, bastard!" I fight for our forbidden love, ramen.
Sasuke rolls his eyes and storms into the apartment with his shoes on. He grabs the pitcher of scalding hot water I'm holding and pours it into the cup of dried noodles until the water is sloshing around. "There. It's done now."
"NonononononononoNO! You can't forget the flavoring. It's the most important-"
I don't even get to finish my sentence of protest before I'm tugged, by the wrist, to the door where my backpack and sneakers are. "Ugh! Fine, I'll hurry!" I pout and wrestle my hand out of his grip. The main reason I agree is so he can't see the fiery blush that is making its way across my face from the contact. The place where he touched me still tingles.
Finally, after many little arguments about my house-cleaning habits (remember he's a neat freak!), I set foot out the door with the bastard and lock the door. Only to trip over a large garden hoe and fall flat on my face; the cup of ramen sailing slowly through the air. My mouth makes a little 'o' shape and I scream in slow-motion as I watch my breakfast make its way to the cold, hard cement sidewalk, splashing the noodles everywhere.
"Nooooo! Whyyyy!?" I cry out. Some of the hot soup stains the mailman's work pants, making him yelp and throw me a look of disgust.
"Sorry…ah…" comes out from my mouth. I would feel sorrier for him, if he would stop kicking the neighbor's puppy-dog whenever it came near in friendly greeting. See, people like that deserve to have soup spilled all over their pants.
"Dobe…"
The boy standing over me does not have a pretty expression on his face. I shudder, thinking of the ways Sasuke is going to utterly mutilate me for making us even later than we were originally.
He grabs my beautiful blond hair and yanks me to my feet. "Eek! Not so hard, teme!" my eyes water at the sudden pain and the loss of ramen.
"Let's GO, before I decide that I won't take you to school like I was going to, you clumsy piece of shit." Sasuke growls. But he takes a look at my face, and his features soften.
My tormentor sighs. Sasuke walks over to the sleek black car parked in front of my house, and opens the door gracefully, glaring at me to get my sorry ass inside. How he got that across with just a glare, I'm not sure.
I take one last look at the wasted food on the ground and at the angry mailman's pants, and sniffle a little. Even though today's weather is so sunny and warm, the left side of my face is now sporting a giant bruise, plus, my stomach is making itself known through a series of low grumbles and growls. The day is not starting itself right.
"Idiot, we don't have forever. It's already…" he pauses to glance at his fancy-shmancy cellphone.
"HOLY SHIT!" Sasuke exclaims.
The next thing I know, I'm being kicked into the backseats of the shiny black car, with the one who issued the blow following shortly after. The car door slams shut, and before I can recover, we're speeding off in the general direction of Konoha Junior High School for the Gifted and Talented.
"Waaahhh…" I whine, rubbing my ass. "Why am I always the one getting injured?"
The bastard, with one rolled-up-sleeved arm slung over the back of my cushiony seat, has the nerve to smirk at me. "Well, it's not my fault you like to leave garden hoes randomly lying around."
"Sh-shut up! I don't know how it got there!" Really, I don't. Heck, I'm not even sure if I own a garden hoe…
When there's no reply, I turn my head to look at Sasuke. My mistake! My breath catches, and my eyes widen. I try to will the pink color on my cheeks away. He's like a fucking sex god! I think to myself in awe. Jet black hair hanging over a naturally pale complexion, eyes half-lidded with a smugness that could be easily mistaken for lust, a wide smirk spread across his handsome face. I'm suddenly extremely aware of the warmth radiating from his arm behind the back of my neck. All I can think of this entire time is, "He's looking at me. He's looking at me! Do something!"
I do something. "S-Sasuke! Don't we have a quiz in Iruka's class first period?" I manage to squeak out, breaking the trance we were in. I have no idea what I'm saying, but anything will work as long as I maneuver my way out of this situation. A year ago, I may have wanted to wipe that arrogant grin off his face, but now…now…
All I want to do right now is lean over and kiss him.
The car comes to a smooth stop in front of our school. On the arch of the black metal entrance is, proudly displayed and declaring to the world, "Konoha High School for the Gifted and Talented". A simple, swirly, leaf shaped symbol is the emblem. Well, up until last year when Sakura told me it was a leaf, I thought it was a snail...You know, with the shell and the sticking up eyes and the tail...ish. Whatever. So we step out of the automobile, with me thanking the driver for the ride.
"We do." Sasuke answers, as we half-walk half-run towards the middle school building. "It's on Shakespeare's Macbeth. I'm impressed that you actually bothered to remember, dobe. Don't tell me you studied for it, too?"
I almost choke on my spit, earning a worried glance from Sasuke. It's not often that I get something right.
"O-of course I remembered. And yes, I did study for it, te-ME!" I spit out. And those words are complete lies. When did Iruka announce the quiz, anyways? Macbeth? Did I even finish reading the thing?
"Pfft. You're even worse at lying than Kakashi. Nice attempt though. It didn't fool anyone." I'm beginning to question Sasuke's psychic potential, when the bell rings and we break into a full sprint.
We reach the classroom just as the final bell rings, signaling that there should no longer be any students in the hallways. Iruka looks up from the attendance list to glance at my panting form, and Sasuke's not-as-exhausted form. Seriously, we just ran all the way across the courtyard, then up four flights of stairs, and this guy's barely even stressing! I guess it's just one of his strange superpowers that make him the popular jerk he is now.
"Alright both of you, I'm not gonna ask why you're late, but try to get here before the last bell next time, okay?" I beam back at my favorite teacher. There is a reason why Iruka's my favorite, but we'll save that for another time. As for now, I'll just focus on staring at Sasuke's profile while trying not to get called a "creep."
Oh, wait. Now Iruka is handing out the quizzes! Waaahh! I'm so gonna fail this! When I said I didn't finish the story, I seriously didn't finish it. I get my sheet of paper, and flip it over to look at the questions. Yep, one Uzumaki Naruto is definitely screwed. There are 10 multiple choice questions, and I only know the answers to about five of them.
By the way, clarification! I am, by no means, dumb. The only reason I couldn't study for this quiz is because yesterday I was stuck on the phone, trying to tell the gas bill person that MY HOUSE DOESN'T USE GAS, so would you please stop charging me money for non-existent usage of the heat. And who turns their heat on in the spring, anyways? Not me, I'm hot enough as I am. So you can't really blame me if I get, like, a fifty out of one-hundred on this thing.
I glance over to my black-haired buddy, hoping to 'accidently' catch an answer, but Sasuke is already finished with his test and leaning back in his seat, eyes closed. My eyes linger over the bit of smooth, creamy neck being exposed. I lick my lips and hurriedly turn back, not wanting Iruka to become suspicious. For the rest of the quiz, I just fill in whatever answer seems reasonable. After that I return to watching Sasuke.
I don't even realize that he's smirking at me until his hand reaches over and flicks my forehead, successfully jolting me from my dream-like state. "Ah!" I exclaim, heat flooding into my cheeks. Out of the corner of my vision, I spot Iruka making his way over to my desk. I narrow my eyes at Sasuke and hiss, "Thanks a lot, bastard!" The apathetic jerk just turns away, pretending to mind his own business. Grrr!
"Naruto, is there something you would like to say?" looms Iruka's face over me. Like hell I letting Sasuke get away! "Yes, I DO have something to say! This-" I point frantically to Sasuke (who ignores me); "this guy hit me! On the forehead! See?" my hand goes to the slightly red, irritated spot on my forehead. Iruka notices it and seems to consider if I could have put it on myself, then sighs, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. "Sasuke, Naruto, fifteen minute detention after school today." The class is then dismissed, everyone handing in their finished quizzes while shuffling out to their next class.
My jaw nearly drops in disbelief. Wh-wh-what did I do to deserve this!? Sasuke is grumbling on his way out and I don't want to upset him anymore (I've almost mastered the art of telling how the bastard is feeling, key word being almost).
The next class is Japanese, taught by Ebisu-sensei. Seriously, I don't understand why we need to take it when we all speak it fine already. English class I understand, since like one-fifth of the world can't get by without it, but learning one's language again for all the grammar and punctuation specifics is entirely unnecessary. Sasuke and I entertain ourselves with a game of tic-tac-toe, which he wins. For the twentieth time. I crumple up the piece of paper with a frown and throw it across the room to where Kiba (AKA dog breath) is sitting, effectively hitting him on the head. He doesn't even have to turn around to know from which person it came from before flashing me the middle finger.
Sasuke is called on for question 36 in the textbook and he answers it with ease, before looking back down and guessing my word in hangman. "Dammit," I curse under my breath, which makes Sasuke throw me a look of concern. I'm not usually as dense to use the word "Mississippi" in hangman. I mean, just guess the letter "I" or "S" and there you go, you've won the game. But today my mind is distracted with thoughts of after school. I have a feeling the teme is going to confront me about the various times he's caught me with my eyes on him for unnatural periods of time. Does he suspect me of being gay? Or even worse, has he figured out that I have a crush on him? All these thoughts running through my head make me stare emptily into space, not noticing the shrill ring of the bell when class ends.
I finally snap back into reality when Sasuke waves his hand in front of my expression of anxiety. "-to Naruto, earth to Naruto, come back to Earth, dobe." He's chanting.
"Shut up, I'm here!" I squeak.
"Good, I was beginning to think that you'd left me. Whatever would I do without my personal fan girl-repellent?" Sasuke's expression changes to that of worry. "Dobe, are you okay? You seem a bit spaced out."
I reply with a "Yeah, I'm fine bastard. We have Global next?" He nods and we leave it at that.
Global Studies is taught by this fifty-year old who calls himself "Asuma-sensei." He's supposedly related somehow to the vice principal of the school, Sarutobi Hiruzen, an old geezer that just sits in his office all day long. The jii-chan knows me; when I'm not sent to the principal's office for pulling off pranks or getting into fights, his place is where I go. You could say I'm kinda like that annoying ad that keeps popping up no matter how many times you "ex" it out.
So anyways, we learn about the conquest of Alexander the Great and how he conquers the Persian Empire (which I honestly don't give a shit about) and perfect the art of aerodynamics, involving paper and our class notes. Well I do anyways. Sasuke listens and takes notes, like any good little student should. Shikamaru, some lazy-ass guy that sits on my left, always comes in and falls asleep upon contact with his wooden desk. It's fun to poke his face and watch his reactions. "Troublesome…" I hear him mutter.
One glance at the clock on the wall tells me that class ends in five more minutes, which seems like for-EVER to an anxious, hyperactive, and most of all, HUNGRY blonde. My stomach sings the song of its people once more, as if in reminder of its emptiness.
Sasuke looks over. "Dobe, will you shut your stomach up? I can't hear what Asuma's saying."
"I'm sooorry, Sasukeeee; I'm just sooo huuunngryyyy…" Growl from tummy.
"Look, if I get any lower than a 97 on the history test tomorrow, you're not going to live to see another bowl of ramen. Understand?"
"…"
"Good." He whips back to face Asuma-sensei. I clench my abdomen area, where I feel like my stomach's trying to digest itself, and mentally sob.
GROOOOWWWWLLLL….
" Dobe…"
Shit.