Purple Dinosaur, a naruto fanfic

Purple Dinosaur

(&)

Once upon a time, there were two young people named Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha, of which were deeply~ in love with each other, so much so they were too blind to realize. The female of the two and the former, she was such a—not whore—whore for Sasuke Uchiha that he called her annoying at every given second.

However, contrary to what most may believe, Sasuke did not mean it. Well, yeah, he did, but this is supposed to be a story and I am trying to get on with it, okay! And, to get on with it, I have to 'set the scene'. So, let me set the scene and stop looking at me as if I'm crazy! SHEESH!

(&)

Since that was complete and utter failure, I will just cut to the chase.

About, say, seventeen years ago, Sasuke and Sakura fell in love. They were high school sweethearts, practically a married couple all throughout college years. So, when Sasuke got on his knee—and crapped out that pole shoved up his ass that some people call 'emotional constipation'—and pulled out that beautiful ring that Sakura still dons proudly to this day, nobody was really surprised.

They saw it coming.

But, a couple people fainted months later when my Mom announced she was preggers!

(&)

AH-HA! Now, you totally think that I am going to go off on some tangent talking about how awesome it is to be the first born of Sasuke and Sakura Uchiha. Um, no. I'm not the first-born. I'm more like the second. Of five.

(CUZ MY PARENTS GET IT ON EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT~)

I totally hate these parts of the story where the narrator wastes, like, three pages going about how they look and whatnot, how their best friends look, their siblings, and on and on. It's pointless! If the reader wanted to see a picture, they would've gone to the movies.

Sheesh.

*(chapter one: HAHAHAHA—No)*

It was around this time of day when I usually decided that the inventor to the alarm clock was closely related (and I mean closely, like freaking spawn) to the devil—carrying around pitchforks and spewing fire for self-driven entertainment. Anyone who can make something that wakes people up, when everyone knows that during sleep is a person at his or her most peaceful is completely sadistic and pure evil.

People like Kellogg are cool. They created an antibiotic toward early mornings called cereal.

The coffee guy—Starbucks? Try Dunkin Donuts, psh!—is all right, too. The only bad thing he's ever done to me is possibly, I don't know, burn my throat! Ugh, that moved him from number one spot to about sixteen. Loser.

Speaking of sixteen, I'm sixteen. I can drive. Chances are that you probably aren't sixteen. I mean, what person over sixteen spends their time reading about my parents and their friends? Actually, you know what; don't answer that question. Things were so much cooler in their time—now we go to high school.

Americanization is bullshit.

You see, back in the good old old days, my parents were super cool kickass ninjas. That was their day job. It was like, "Hey, honey, what do you have to do today at work?", and then Honey would be all, "Oh, nothing much, sweetie, just kill a freaking super strong maniac Akatsuki member and burn his small intestines into a fucking crisp with my super kick ass ninja skillz!" BOOM-SMASH-KAZAAM!

…now we go to high school.

All. Because of. Ninja. World. Peace.

Because of said peace, there's no need for ninjas, and over the generations—ahem, like, one generation—the practice of training for becoming a ninja has been straight banned in certain villages. We still learn how to defend ourselves, because wouldn't it be a pointless waste to let kekkei genkai go like that? And who knows how long this 'peace' thing is going to last.

I bet it'll be over as soon as Naruto-sama gets out of office. He's the main reason for half of the non-ninja-suicidal-killie-killie-shuriken-I-must-avenge-my-clan-but-still-kill-my-brother mess. It's cool, though. Mom says it's for the better.

BUT SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND!

She never went to high school. Ugh.

*()*

Apparently, Konoha is still too…whatever…to not have school busses, cars, or anything remotely related to travel that's not on foot if it isn't a boat. The last time I saw a scooter was on TV. (Isn't that retarded, how we have TVs, but no cars? Hell, we just got cell phones last year and they're those lame block phones invented fifty-billion years ago! We have to take driving tests, but we can't buy a car! The only person who has one is Gai-sensei, and he is the absolute LAST human being who needs an automobile.)

So, anyway, I was walking to school, my two oldest brothers on either side of me, my youngest running around in circles, pretending to be a human-airplane (of which we're also deprived of). My little sister is still too young to go to the Academy, since she'll only be four this year, and Academy grades don't start until kindergarten.

I told you that I wasn't going to waste space 'describing', but, this expository of my life is worth a grade, or so I was told by you, Kakashi-sensei. You hermit pervert. Get a life beyond the pages of your porn novel, will you? My Kami…

ANYWAYS!

To my left, is my older brother, Daichi. He's eighteen, and some say that he looks like my father. I don't see it.

Sure, his hair is all shiny, ebony, and spiky, but it doesn't look exactly like a chicken/duck ass. It's actually pretty long, little random spikes here and there, most of them near the back. NOW, I know I said it doesn't embody a chicken ass, but, fine. I guess you can say that, but, Daichi's hair is too long to just have a chicken ass head. Perhaps it could be a tall chicken's butt. Or a fat one's. Either way, this bird has a butt big enough to be pulled into a ponytail at night.

He's tall, too, towering a whole inch and a half above Tou-san (like, OMG, an inch and a half. You are a giant, big brother. A GIANT.), and thin, but of an athletic sort. The girls weep and cry about how much they want to feel his muscular muscles, and while they beg, I barf.

What's left…oh! Green eyes, like an olive. A very ugly, stale, silvery olive.

He turned toward me, lips forming a grimace as his dark eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I smiled. "I was just looking at all the ugly on your face and wondering how in the world it happened, how in the world Kami would let one of his people pop out of an uterus looking like they should've come out the other hole, how—"

Daichi sneered.

"Shut up."

That's his catchphrase. We'll count how many times he'll say that before the chapter is over, yes?

*()*

Next on the list is Haruo. He's cool. Very nice. I like him a lot more than I do like my big brother, but I suppose that is mainly because we're so close in age, he being fifteen.

The genius he is, though, instead of being a Freshman, he takes Sophomore classes with me, but I don't mind. He sits with the other pasty pale nerds in the back corner, solving trigonometry figures with his eyes closed and stuff.

His hair is a dark red, kind of like Gaara-sama's, and it's a practical mop. When Haruo wakes up, that's how it stays; seriously, it's as if it's his inspiration for the day. He finds some gel and cements it in these weird styles that vary from day to day, but more often than not, it seems extremely time consuming when in reality it's not. The inventions used in his experiment are hairspray and hair gel. Oh. And shampoo. His hair smells extremely good all the time.

…right. So, my oldest little brother. As I said he's pale, practically ghostly, and starkly contrasting that is his hair. My favorite part of him, besides his cool, 'whatever-I-feel-like-doing' attitude, is his eyes. They're slate. Reflective slate with little specks of silver that totally in the sun looks really cool. I get jealous sometimes, but then I remember.

I'm a girl.

Enough. Freaking. Said.

*()*

Eiji the human airplane looks like Justin Bieber (Did I spell his last name wrong? Does it look like I care either way?) with bright, childish, alien-like green—I kid—eyes.

Any difference between him and the teen pop sensation might be the fact that my brother is a boy, hence meaning he has balls, and actually looks like one. His lips aren't permanently pink. He does have chubby cheeks, though, but he's eight. Cut the kid some slack.

He got his brown hair from grandpa, of course on my Mom's side, considering the…incident. You know what I'm talking about.

DON'T MAKE ME EXPLAIN WHAT MY FATHER CRIES ABOUT EVERY NIGHT, OKAY?

*()*

"I have this test today in Econ," Daichi shared after a heavy blanket of silence covered us siblings. Eiji had decided that planes were lame, and decided to become a real boy.

I say real but I mean himself.

Haruo looked away from his book, gorgeous eyes glancing at Daichi. "I didn't see you studying last night."

"Shut up."

The count is officially at two.

My ears decided to key out of the conversation once Haruo went on about the ill effects of not studying for tests, especially those close to midterms, and I looked around the town.

Most of it is the same. The buildings are still ranging in size—short and tall, fat and skinny—and color, brick here, adobe there. It had to be about 7: 45 now, since a lot of kids I recognized from the halls were coming out of the (CLOSET!) front doors of their own homes.

A few girls tried to catch my bickering brother's attention. I threw a sharpened pencil from my pocket at them, because if you can't have kunai, those work half as well and get the job done. The blonde one—ugh, she's Ino and Sai-kun's daughter and such a fucking whore that I am so ashamed that my mother even considers her mother a friend—with the ugly face screeched even though I missed dreadfully, throwing her frail wimpy arms in the air. She jumped into a random passer's lap and cried for a little while.

I soaked in her humiliation like a warm bath with a happy smile.

*()*

The smell of broth and the ever-loved ramen filled my nostrils, and instinctively I jerked my head to the right, toward a stand with curtains covering the inside, steam coming out of the inside. Two pairs of feet peeked out from the bottom.

I read the lettering on the said curtains, and smiled. Of course, it was none other than Ichiraku.

I patted Haruo's shoulder, licking my dry lips.

"Hey," I looked up to see him eye to eye (since I am short…and he is tall…), "I'm gonna head over to Ichiraku. I want a dumpling."

He nodded, saying something about not being late and yada yada yada school is important yada yada sex is bad yada while I ran through the civilian traffic that was building up, lifting up a curtain when I reached the ramen stand.

The old man still worked there, filling another bowl of beef ramen for my favorite blue haired buddy on the freaking planet.

He looked up at me, light blue eyes lighting up shades.

"HANA-CHAN!"

That hunk of man meat screaming loud decibels is Kichiro. He's Naruto and Hinata's son, and the most adorable—oh, who am I kidding. Kichiro is so disgusting that boogers hide in shame. I mean, sure, that was very mean of me to say and all (though I don't remember being elected as the queen of nice) but, Kichiro isn't that atrocious. Actually, if he weren't buried deep in The Friend Zone, he would be decent.

He's the older twin between him and his sister, Masumi, my best friend. The two of them would look just alike if it weren't for Masumi's golden blonde locks and the fact she's um, I don't know, A GIRL and NOT LAME.

I sat in between the two twins and ordered myself a glass of orange juice and some Strawberry Shortcake Pocky sticks. Seeing as those items required nothing but my money, Old Man came back with my juice pouch and Pocky pack, like, super freaking fast as if he was on old man steroids.

"So what's up?" I drawled, spinning around in my red spinning chair, sticking on stick of Pocky in my mouth like a cig. Masumi's fairy-like voice answered, "Nothing really, just waiting for school to start, you know, and eating ramen for breakfast which should be so totally obvious to you right now, ne? LOL giggle."

I eyed her carefully then laughed hesitantly, figuring her major tweak at the end was due to the early hour. I turned to Kichiro and smiled, raising a brow, "Translation, please?"

He just looked at me, blushed, and then ate his ramen silently.

Ugh.

(&)

Welcome to Polls!

Note From the Head,

What it do, folks? It turns out that a couple people can't keep their URLs in their freaking pants and decided to share my latest poll with a certain principal. So. SO. My page on the e-paper will be closed for the NEXT FUDGING WEEK. (Oh, yeah, and you know I am so glaring holes into whoever did it's face right now. That was an implied threat. I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN.) My latest poll has also been closed without the whole school voting. But, ha-ha, I still got the e-mail telling me how many people did vote. So, catch it, Tsunade-sama, out of the 1, 876 people who voted, ~318 of those people think your at least 70 years old! HAHA!

I will not die easily. I will not die afraid. Boom.

Lots of Love,

Uchiha Kohana

Latest Poll

How old do you think Tsunade-sama really is? (Because, seriously, let's be honest here, she's been around for a VERY long freakin' time, now.)

(POLL CLOSED)

results

30-40 (bless your heart)….…7percent

45-50 (you wish she was that old) …...…...…10percent

55-60 (that's more like it) …..…..34percent

65-70 (LOL HARSH!) ….…32percent

70+ (-dies of laughter-)…..…17 percent

COMMENTS (76)

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Posted on Tuesday, September 8 at

5: 48 PM

Subject: Uchiha…

ColorMeF1ne: How stupid you are to believe that Tsunade-sama will overlook this. The detention of your page isn't even over yet.

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Response to ColorMeF1ne