PERFECT STRANGERS


I suppose you could say we were strangers. Perfect strangers.
I liked to think I knew him like the back of my hand; not that I did, of course. I just assumed so.
He was perfect unlike anyone else. Girls wished to be with him, and guys wished to be him. He was pale, and elegant in a way I could never be. He excelled in all his classes, all his sport. Any pursuit he put effort into was met with success. He met everything with a cool, cold face.
He had dark eyes that I suppose that girls would say made him 'mysterious'. Dark hair shrouded his face, and gave his face even sharper edges to match the jagged cut of his fringe.
I knew he was a bastard, arrogant, and sometimes.. I liked to think we were friends. I knew we weren't – but every now and then, I liked to pretend. When he gave me that smirk that was almost a smile – or that tone that was almost friendly, was it not so filled with silent mockery.
But I never should have mistaken it for friendship.


The day was cold – icy wind darted through the trees, and bore with it a harsh chill. It bit into the flesh, and even through bone. There was little that could be done about the cold, either; it managed to find ways to sneak into the most cold proof clothes. I shivered, but didn't let the weather dampen my smile .
I tried to keep my feet warm with a jog – but my house was a fair way from school. I left the dingy apartment blocks behind, taking in lung fulls of chilling, stabbing air. It seemed to freeze in my lungs, and crystallize my breathe. I couldn't help but grin.
Despite the chill, the sky was sunny enough – I huffed almost grumpily. I had been hoping for snow. Finally jogging round the final block, my school was insight. Dull, drab, with students busily milling about out front. Groups of girls meeting with friends, there animated chatting filling the air. The laughter carried all the way to me – I could not help but grin wider. Up ahead, I noted my friends. Standing decidedly 'cooly' by the bike stands. Most of them could afford those, anyway.
I was with them in a second, the usual rounds of "Hey Naruto," chorused in there different tones. Shikamaru looked bored by the whole interaction. Chouji return my grin, before chucking me a small sweet bun. I caught it gratefully, and let Kiba prattle on about how he managed to down four ladies with a single compliment. I snorted at his over confidence, about to argue, but deciding better of it. Besides, school would start soon, and the sweet bun in my hands was still warm.

The bell rung out, loud and clear – breaking through the chatter of the students.
That was when I saw him – slinking through the straggling crowd, proud and arrogant as always. My eyes narrowed as I fixed him my best glare. I didn't need to turn to know that Shikamaru was rolling his eyes. Kiba stopped mid sentence, slamming his hand down on my shoulder and spinning me back to face them – I was too startled to knock his hand, or stop mid spin.
"Stop raising your hackles for no reason, Uzumaki," he growled boredly, while Shikamaru and Chouji carefully edged passed us, milling over to class.
I snorted in response, and glanced back into the crowds – but he was gone.

It wasn't until lunched break that I saw him again. A streak of pale skin, and dark hair, as he stalked across the lunch ground oval. The grass seemed to bow out of his was as he passed. I glared again, this time rising. I don't know what excuse it was this time – whether I blamed it on his arrogance, or just usual bastard behavior.
I've never known what made me gravitate toward him. I just knew I always did, somehow, end up with my eyes on the back of his stupid duck-butt hair, blue eyes boring into his back, and harsh words boiling on my tongue.
Kiba made some sound behind me – calling out. I didn't hear him. Neji would already be rising, wearily. As class president, he had to stop any fighting amidst the students. He already knew what was happening.
He never interfered with the ritual battles – merely snapped viciously at both of us afterward, before sending us for a detention.

As I approached, the boy turned. Defiance sparked in his dark eyes, heating them up like coals. He carefully placed his armload of books on the ground, a fair enough distance away – before facing me with open disinterest. I glared at him viciously, circling a little closer. No words needed to pass. We had long known our names by now.
I leapt in first, aiming a fist at his stomach – he shrunk sideways, quick as lightning. Using the opening I had created with my blind punch, he aimed one at my shoulder blade as I passed. Knocking me to the ground.
I lost my breath for a second – lungs working futily to get something in them, mouth agape – before a forced myself up to face him, ignoring the ugly grass stain down my front. I launched at him again – this time a kick – he brought down a hand to block it.
The fight itself was not important – really, we were testing each other. Eventually he stopped blocking in favour of attack. I landed a nice one of his jaw – blood trickled down the side of his mouth, and I noted his tongue fiddle with a tooth. In return, he gave me a lovely punch to my left eye. I could already feel the swelling.
We fought until we were both breathing hard – and still we circled each other, bristling like wild animals. But I saw that wild glint in his eyes and I knew that the small smirk he pulled was no smirk.
It was a smile.


I prodded my eye with dull interest – it panged, even under the padding of the bandage. I snorted huffily, flopping back down on my desk.
Iruka gave a quick huff from in front, and I sat to attention.
Silence prevailed over the room once more, thick and heavy. I watched idly, as dust motes floated gently through the air. The warm afternoon air poured through a window – warming my right side considerably. The sun had all but chased off the chill of the morning air, and I sighed bitterly.
There would be no snow this year.
Idly, a threw a glance over my shoulder – Sasuke was staring intently at a book. 'Rhetorics and Logic' If I was not mistaken. He'd be reading it for a while now, I noted dully. I turned back to the, and fiddled idly with he wood of my desk. Tracing the grain with rough, chipped fingernails. I noted dully, that I was yet to hear Sasuke turn the page of his book. Surely he would be finished the page by now?

I cast him another glance – he was still staring intently at the book. His fingers twitched every now and then, but he seemed thoroughly engrossed. Maybe he just wasn't as fast a reader as I assumed.
Then, I caught sight of something black and decidedly shiny sticking from the corner of the book – resting gently on the table.
I recognised it instantly.
The corner of the new PSP Advanced – a gaming console I had mooned after for the last month. I had desperately wanted to lay hands on one.
But that was beside the point. Because there sat Mr. Perfect student, tapping away at his game, while I sat here bored out of my mind.
Silently fuming, I turned to the front, glaring at the world in general.

"I saw it!" I growled as soon as we marched out of detention. Iruka-sensei always went easy on us – he knew we probably needed to get some medical attention. Sasuke didn't even blink – his stride didn't break, either. He just kept walking, as though I hadn't said anything. I growled, darting to his side and giving him a pointed glare.
"Don't act all cool with me, Bastard. I saw the PSP!"
This time he paused, fixing me with a cool, level look. He just looked... bored.
I resisted the urge to punch that face – I couldn't stand not seeing a twitch of emotions there.
I couldn't stand not seeing my smirk.

"Why are you following me, idiot?" Was all he said, tonelessly. But humour pulled at his mouth, and made him raise a quizzical eyebrow.
I grinned back cheekily. "I wanna turn. I swear, if you have that Assassins Creed game on there, you better let me play!"
Sasuke snorted, and shook his head near good naturedly – before producing the console and passing it to me. I caught it, just, and he gave me a pointed look. I returned a sheepish grin, and clutched the little plastic contraption to my chest. I would have to handle it carefully.

We passed idle conversation – wandering toward our lockers. I thought for a moment, that it felt strange to talk to him. But it was not uncommon. I supposed he simply got lonely sometimes. None of the boys bothered to try and talk to him – and the girls just squealed behind his back.
No wonder he turned everyone down.
"Seeya," he mumbled, obviously unused to saying the words. I slapped a hand down none too gently on his shoulder.
"Bye Sasuke~!" I cheered happily, before dashing off – warmth spreading through me from some unknown source.

The next few days, the ritual continued. As it had for years. Glares, harsh words, fights,... and friendship.
Or so I thought.


It was Friday . With the weekend approaching, I could scarcely wait to leap from the detention class, Iruka snapping something about not going so fast. But he didn't really mind – I could hear the smile in his tones.
Sasuke was on my heels, the quick 'taptaptap' of his hurried steps a steady beat. As he pulled up beside me, he raised an eyebrow – which meant something along the lines of 'Why the rush?' I grinned back, a hand ruffling through blonde locks.
"Nothin'," I said cheerily, and he gave me that smirk that meant 'You're-a-horrible-liar-Loser'.
I shrugged, turning and rummaging through my locker. For a few moments, silence ranged between us – I knew he was waiting for me to say. I chuckled quietly to myself – for once, I would make him ask.
As I yanked out my bag ready to leave, he leaned against the locker next to his.
"Alright idiot, you can stop the suspense now." He grumbled, irritation obvious in his tones. That meant he really was curious. I grinned harder.
"What're you talking about, Bastard?" I attempted feigning innocence, but I suspect my excitement shone through. He rolled his eyes, and I chuckled.
"I got a date this weekend," I bragged happily, and waited for a snort and a roll of eyes. He'd give me the small smile that meant 'Oh-you-idiot' and we'd laugh about it, and probably go back to his place to play some fighting game. And I would totally own his arse.
When I heard the heavy slam of his locker, I looked to him, startled.
"Great," he grouched. I think that was the first time I heard true irritation in his voice.
And hurt.
I raised a brow myself this time, not reading the signals right. I grinned cheekily. "What, you jealous Uchiha? Want some action yourself?" I saw his muscles tighten too late.
Within seconds, he was at my throat, and I could simply gawk – too surprised to move.
"I am not jealous," he hissed bitterly, eyes narrowing. I could only stare in stunned amazement, watch his cold grip tighten as he leaned closer, mouth turned into a fierce scowl.
"I don't care about your stupid date. Alright?" he snarled, releasing his grip, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and marching away. I had always thought Sasuke could have anyone he wanted. Why would he bother being jealous of me?
He left me there, gawking after him.
My mind numbly noted that I had grown – because now I had to look down to meet that fierce, fiery gaze.

Hinata smiled sweetly up at me. She was kind, and pretty, and the evening had been fun. Apart from the multiple attempts of Kiba to sabotage the date, it had gone smoothly enough in the end. I paused at the doorway of her huge, mansion like house. She gave me another coy twitch of plump, pink lips.
"Thank you for coming out with me, Naruto-kun," she spoke, her voice like a quiet flute in the warm night air. I grinned back, squeezing her small hand gently. I didn't realize I had been holding it – her hand was so delicate. So warm. Gentle, just like her.
"My pleasure, Hinata~!" I cried happily, before, hesitantly I leant down. Hinata's eyes widened, and the blush that had been but a pink colour all evening, darkened to a bright tomato red.
"Na-naru-" I didn't let her finish the sentence, as I closed the distance between us.
When I drew back, she looked a little taken aback – and surprised. Fingers gingerly brushed her cheek, where my lips had gently touched her.
She gave me her shy smile, and we said our good byes.
I could not help but dwell on the horrible guilty feeling the gnawed at my gut.
I didn't know what it was, but I hated it all the same. It weighed in my stomach like a heavy stone, and kept me up for the rest of the night.


Monday morning brought nothing but boredom. I didn't catch sight of dark hair, and pale skin all day.
I was weary from the previous two nights – I had little sleep, at best.
Hinata had come up to me for a brief moment, blushing furiously and thanking me ever so much for going out with her. I grinned, telling her how it had been my pleasure. She gave me her shy smile, before returning to Sakura and Ino – who squealed and made cooing noises. I made out the words 'Too cute~!' repeated multiple times, and with a grin, I wandered to my friends.
That was when I saw him. Striding towards me, dark and imposing. Kiba shot me a glance. " The hell did you do to piss Uchiha off?" He murmured, and Shikamaru, and Chouji even looked over, vaguely interested. Neji shifted slightly, eyes flicking between me and Sasuke.
I leapt to my feet wordlessly, and strode over to him.
Sasuke looked as in bad shape as I did. Tired eyes glared at me with a ferocity I did not expect him to possess.
"What?" I growled, sick of this. I was sick of his anger, and my pride still stung from our earlier fight. He didn't speak, only started to circle me. I fell into the ritual without thought – a grin spreading across my features. This, I knew. This, I could do.
Without warning, he leapt forward, aiming a harsh punch at my stomach – the blow hit without fault. Winded, I was knocked backward.
But he did not stop, waiting for me to get up – instead, he landed a vicious blow with his elbow, hitting me square on the back of the head as I sunk to the ground. I saw stars behind my eyes as pain ricocheted through my brain. Another vicious kick sent me sprawled to the ground – dizzy, but finally with air back in my lungs. I saw him aiming another kick – this time for my ribs. I rolled out of the way just in time – feeling the sole of his foot graze against my back. But by now I had jumped to my feet – fury burning adrenaline through me. What the hell had I done?
His barrage did not stop there – he continued, each punch, kick more vicious than the next. I could feel the bruises on my arms simply from blocking them. We had never fought this hard before. He'd never tried to actually injure me.
Shortly I was breathing hard, my body pummelled beyond belief.
Sasuke raised his fist once more, rushing towards me – I hadn't the strength to stop the blow. I didn't bother to raise my hand in a feeble block. I felt the air rush as he got closer, could practically feel his fist upon my cheek – until he stopped.
His head dropped, staring at the ground. His fist dropped, too.
The last thing I noted was Neji marching over, the most serious expression I have ever seen him wear written across his face. He shouted something, and I blearily looked at him – before black closed around me, and a toppled backwards, exhaustion hitting me like the final blow Sasuke never landed.
And throughout the entire thing, I could not help but thinking one thing cross my mind.
I used to think we were friends.
Now I knew what we really were.
Strangers.
Perfect, perfect strangers.

We sat quietly in the detention room. I felt sore, tired, but I didn't want the tense silent to end. I didn't want Iruka to dismiss us, either. Because that would mean I would have to face his fuming wrath. I wasn't scared of what he could do to me. This time, I would fight back.
What scared me was loosing him. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I was terrified. My hands clung desperately to the edge of the table. My knuckles turned white, and I fixed my gaze on the clock. Watching the minutes, seconds, slowly ticking away.
Far too fast for my liking.
Finally, after what seemed like a second, Iruka rose wearily. The tense silence stilled prevailed – thick enough too slice. I twitched slowly, unable to meet the mans eyes.
"You two can go now. And for the love of God, if I see you in here one more time, this will get a whole lot more serious." From his tone, I knew it was no idle threat.
I heard the seat behind me scrap against the floor – I cringed at the high pitched wail of metal legs against wooden floorboards.
I followed him quickly.
Quietly.
None of my usual humour clung to me – as we left the room, the silence only tightened its steely grip. I tried to speak. Tried to look at him. Tried to do anything.
My jaw was stuck tight, and all I could do was flounce miserably after him – any earlier anger washed away, and replaced with a horrible guilt. I didn't know what I had done, but I had an awful feeling it was something akin to betrayal.
We stopped at our lockers, still silent.

By now though, the silence was getting to me. With a growl, I grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved him into the locker. He made a satisfying clunk, and a sharp breath as he slammed against the metal. That felt a bit better – a little payback for my aching head, and bruised stomach.

"Alright arsehole, what the hell did I do?" I snarled. I couldn't help it – the more I stared at his blank, bored expression, the more it pissed me off. The more I wished he would show me that near smile – my smirk.

He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just hung there, limply. He was tense, and his eyes glared at me – dark as coals. He stared up at me defiantly, as though daring me to back off. Daring me to do.. something. Just as I was puzzling over what exactly it was he wanted me to do, I noted movement. Tentative, gingerly, he leaned forward a little. His lips were mere centimetres from mine, as though he was trying to whisper something in my lips. His breath ghosted across my cheeks, and my stomach turned nervously. That same, happy warmth spread through my stomach, and alighted on every nerve. Burning. I didn't move, startled like a deer in headlights. Frozen to the spot, too shocked to move.
He didn't either, and for a second, the moment hung between us. I could hear my heart beating – my lungs seemed to stop functioning. My brain did too, because for a moment I started to lean in a little closer-
Before I heard a startled cry from behind me. I whipped around, and saw Hinata, her face stricken. She had dropped something on the ground – something that looked uncannily like a little packed afternoon tea. She was over in a second, gentle hands wrapped about my arm as she pulled me away from Sasuke – I tried to spout something, some explanation. Anything to excuse the closeness, the way he had almost.. almost.. I shook my head, and let gentle hands lead me away.
"I thought you knew better than to bother Sasuke-san more!" she spoke, her tones not annoyed – merely worried. She had seen our fight earlier, and had rushed to the nurses office. When I woke, it was to her pretty face above me, tear tracks running down her face. She had been so happy when I had smiled up at her. She threw a worried glance in the Sasuke's direction; but his bag was already hefted on his shoulder, and he was away. A pale and dark streak, disappearing into the hallways of the school.
Hinata gave me a puzzled frown, and lead me to where our afternoon tea waited.
I couldn't place it, but I knew something was happening.
And it wasn't good.

The air was sweltering. It swamped the afternoon breeze, and stifled even the slightest rippled of the trees leaves. It hung to everyone like a thick, wooly blanket that you couldn't shake off. I hefted my school bag higher on my shoulder, and tried to ignore the sweat that trailed down my spine in the most uncomfortable fashion.
Any hope I had for snow had been brutally crushed - and while I had stayed optimistic, this had really been the final blow. There was not a cloud in sight.
I vaguely thought back to when I had complained - earlier that week. It had been after detention one afternoon. Sasuke had decided he could talk to me for a few moments - but he would have to go soon. His bus only came once every half an hour.
He had promised it would snow.

That had been before last week. When we had got along.
When we had been friends.
I shivered, though whether it was from the cold, I wasn't quite certain. I had yet to see head or tail of Sasuke, and it was beginning to irritate me. I had already snapped at Kiba - twice. Everyone else had well learned to back off. Sasuke was in some senses, my emotional punching bag. Whenever things were tough, we would spar. It helped - easing out negative emotions, and pushing me and little harder. I think Sasuke knew it helped, too.
Still, it did not save me from a lonely walk home. Sasuke didn't live anywhere near my part of town - infact, the bus he caught went straight through and out of the dingy suburbs and ugly apartments I was all too familiar with.
But it mean't would walk with me some of the way - and I was unused to the silence.
When I finally arrived at my front door, I paused a minute.
The door was already half open - I could see a small sliver of light where the door hadn't quite closed.
I pushed it open, curious. When I stepped inside however, the place was the same. The same dingy little apartment room I managed to rent with a meagre salary. It wasn't much - the wallpaper was peeling off, and stained with all manner of dirt. The fridge, the counter, and the other kitchen appliances still hummed and wirred - they were old, and in a such a state of disrepair that I was astounded that any of them turned on, let alone worked. The air was musty, and the light flickering - I had been needing to get a new bulb for awhile.
But still, it was enough - I had never been one for fancy living, anyway.
I dropped my school bag with a heavy thump - I supposed the lock was just being faulty again. Still, I let my eyes sweep the room a final time before ducking into the messy living room. The sofa had obviously once been a deep, rich red - but the sun had bleached into a soft, pinky tone. The room was quiet and still, and I clambered over my multiple lumpy cushions to open the windows - taking in a breath of fresh (albeit a little warm) air. It danced into the room, creating a rather nice breeze. I settled on the couch a moment, letting the cool, gentle breeze lap slowly over me.
Before I heard something.
It was only quiet - the soft shuffling of feet over carpet.
The only rooms in the house that had carpet were the living room, and my bedroom.
I paused for a minute, listening. Gently, I kicked off my shoes - placing grubby socks against the fuzz of my faded carpet. The sun had done a lovely job to it, too.
I shuffled slowly, snatching up one of my grubby sport shoes - and held it in my hand like some sort of weapon.
I knew it wouldn't do much to the kind of people who robbed houses in this part of town.
I felt my heart beat a little faster - unease turning swiftly to fear. I wiped a hand swiftly against my brow, and with a finality I certainly did not like, turned the corner into the small hallway that lead to my bedroom.
Of all the things I had expected to see, it was not Sasuke Uchiha caught mid sneak out of my room.
We stood there for a moment, both shocked.
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights - frozen mid step, a pair of scissors in one hand, and scraps of sparkly silver paper in the other. Bits and pieces of the sparkly silver paper was caught in his hair, and stuck to various other parts of his anatomy. Had the situation not been so completely baffling, I would have fallen over laughing.
He put his socked foot down, and retained that look of clam, coolness he got when he was attempting to look inconspicuous.
It didn't help much.
We stood in silence for a few more awkward seconds, before he raised an eyebrow at me, and slightly strained smirk pulling at his lips.
"You were going to fight off a burglar with a shoe?" he said, humour dancing in his words.
I flicked my eyes back to my weapon, then gave him a sheepish grin.
"I suppose so," I managed to choke out. The words sounded hollow.
He shook his head, then turned it toward my bedroom door, as though motioning me to look. I dropped my shoe and flicked my gaze towards the door. It was slightly ajar - just like my front door - and beyond I caught glimpses of more of that sparkly paper. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged, turning away with a snort. I edged forward, slowly - as though approaching a wounded animal.
When he didn't block my way, I decided I was allowed to look.
I gently took the door handle, and pushed open the door.
What awaited me inside was no what I had expected at all - but all that I had wished.
It was snowing.
Bits of the sparkly paper had been cut into tiny bits - not particularly artistically, but it was what they were doing that was important. He had set up a small series of fans, that made the little bits of paper flutter about the room like real snow. From the ceiling, he had hung little snow flake - this time cut with obvious care.
For a few moments, I could do nothing but stare - mouth agape as I watched the little snowflakes twirl before me.
It was almost like real snow.
I turned - ready to splurt out my thanks.
But he had already disappeared.
I was in the corridor in a moment, and caught him in the living room - pulling him down against the floor. He gave a surprised (and rather undignified) yelp as he flopped on the carpet, me sitting atop him like some strange adornment.
I could not help the huge grin that had spread across my features.
"Okay Bastard. That was something pretty awesome," I marvelled aloud. Sasuke glared at me, and waved his scissors in a rather dangerous fashion. My smile spread all the harder, I resisted the urge to laugh.

He glared up at me, his expression vicious. The soft, gold of the afternoon light bathed his features, and made darkly burning coals melt into a warm chocolate shade. I marvelled for a minute, before returning my gaze elsewhere. His brows were furrowed in a way that mean't he was more than irritated. He was furious.
Had I known better, I probably would have gotten off him.
Thankfully, I had never possessed much common sense.
With a rather vicious snarl, he lashed out – a nice quick punch to the jaw that sent me toppling sideways. I growled, gratitude turning into confusion as my fighting sense's kept me from getting another hefty blow on the nose.
"The hell you bastard! What the hell was that for?!?!" But there was no time for a response as I dodged another blow.
The next one I caught – grabbing his clenched fist. But he didn't lose a beat, and simply dropped the scissors on the ground, using it to his advantage – he took a quick hop-step closer, our chests flush against eachother. I knew he was going to land another one on my face, and I would have a lovely black eye – I cringed awaiting a blow that would never come.
What he did next hit me harder than any punch – his warm lips smothered mine.
Shocked, my eyes were open in a heartbeat. He had closed his – and his brow was furrowed slightly, like he was concentrating. Warm lips were pressed demandingly on my own, and any brain work stopped. I felt a lovely, jolly warmth spread all through me, and near melted like butter in his presence – it was just before he drew back that I decided to respond.
My lips pushed back against his, and for a few short minutes we simply stood – my hand still enclosed about his clenched fist, his free hand coming to pull demandingly on my shirt.
When we finally drew apart, it was for a few brief gulps of air – and an awkward silence. He instantly flicked his gaze elsewhere, leaving me to a swirling mass of thoughts, that seemed to be dulled by that deliciously warm, fuzzy feeling that melted over everything. He took his fist back with one quick movement.
"That's why," he spat shortly, his gaze finally returning to me. My tongue darted out quickly, and I did not realize till a second later that I was licking my lips for a reason other than them being dry.
I looked away quickly, and felt my cheeks prickle with warmth. I could see a slow smirk spreading across Sasuke's features. He leaned closer again – lips brushing my ear this time.
"What Loser? You embarrassed by me?"
I managed to squeak out something small and incomprehensible, before his teeth sunk into my earlobe and I lost any sense of control. He nibbled gently – tenderly, tongue dancing from my ear to my neck. I could not help but whimper, hands grasping, feeling, clutching at his shirt as I tried to maintain my grasp on the present. I could feel him smirk against the hollow of my neck, as he breathed against my skin – sending shivers ricocheting through my body, and making sure every nerve was alive. He paused a minute, looking up at me – shaking a stuttering mess that I was, I managed to crack open as eye and look right back.
"I'm not jealous, mind you," he murmured conversationally, and I nodded, biting at my lip. I could not explain what exactly it was that was driving me crazy at that moment – but I expected it was the fact he was so close.

"I always knew you were mine. She could never be like me," he continued, and I almost snorted at the arrogant way he spoke, drawing back a little. My hand fell from his shirt, and instead lay on his hip, pulling him closer.
I tried to ignore that increasing pressure my lower half was placing on me as I focussed on what he was saying.
"Because I knew that whatever she was, I always had a little part of you. You'd always be my loser. I'd always be your bastard." He paused, looking up this time. His face was completely serious – and without thinking, and nodded myself, leaning in just so I could rest my forehead against his. It seemed to ease some of his tension – he leant in, and for a moment, we were silent.
"You'll always be my bastard," I added, feeling it was not quite adequate to what I meant. But I supposed it would suffice.
Because I knew, then and there, that I was right. I had been right all along.
We weren't strangers.
We were friends.


A/N

This gorgeous fanfic is written by Naru~chan! Isn't it awesome? 8D

~ Sakura