Just a random idea that came into my head. I might make it a romance eventually, I'm not really sure yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters. I own Yuki and her pwnsome golf-club.
Hope you enjoy, and review please!
I yawned as I wandered into the living room, shutting the door behind me before collapsing into my squishy violet armchair, and wrapped a furry blanket around my body.
It was the largest piece of furniture in the tiny and badly lit room, which I had managed to cram a tall floor lamp, a small bookcase, a square table the size of an average piano stool, and a small wooden seat into, as well as the armchair.
I leaned over to the bookcase on my left, before selecting the next volume in my favourite manga series. I had been saving it; but I thought I deserved it, as I had been busy cleaning all day.
I sighed. I only got one day a week off from my job, and I usually spent it doing housework. Still, I needed the little money working at the ramen stand paid. And I got to meet some interesting people.
I smiled as I though of the blond kid who came practically every day to empty his (or his teacher's) wallet. You'd think with the amount of money they earned from him, they could at least up my wages a little.
But just as I was about to get REALLY mopey, the doorbell rang, and the emo cloud perched over my head dissolved. I felt slightly irked as I stood up – who could that be at this hour*? And what was SO important that they had to interrupt my emo time? I hardly ever got to bask in self-pity…
Actually, what time was it? I glanced at the clock – 5.00 pm. And it was already pitch-black outside…Winter had come so soon…I shook my head to clear my thoughts, before grabbing my trusty golf-club (who I liked to call Steve) and walking to the front door, flicking on the hall-light as I went. People may say I have no common sense, but I still don't want to get kidnapped or something…
I held Steve cautiously with one hand as I opened the door with the other. A man who looked to be in his early 20s stood in front of me. He had blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, and long bangs over one of his bright blue eyes; and was only a few inches taller than me. That wasn't the mailman…
I let out a loud yell as I smashed Steve onto his head (Steve didn't mind. I think he actually enjoys hitting stuff), and stared in amazement when he fell at my feet.
"Wow, that actually worked!" I exclaimed, failing to notice the blond guy's companion, who swiftly punched the back of my head.
"OW!" I yelped, rubbing my scalp with my free hand. "What the hell was that for?"
In retrospect, I probably should have hit him with Steve then. Or slammed the door in his face and locked it. Or both. But I'm just going to blame my apparent lack of common sense for the fact I just stood there and glared at him, until he narrowed his eyed and asked;
"Why are you still conscious?"
I stared at him. I mean, how are you supposed to answer that?
"Um…I have a hard head?" I asked hopefully. This was kind-of true, since every time we had played dodge-ball or basket-ball back at the Academy, the familiar round object had always seemed to have an affection for hitting my head. Maybe that toughened my skull up a bit…
While I was thinking, the redhead must have decided to take advantage, and tried to hit my head again. Luckily, I saw him coming this time, so I managed to duck at the last second.
"Ah! Don't arrest me please!" I yelled, holding my hands defensively above my head, Steve lying loyally at my feet. "I didn't mean to hit him that hard, honest!"
The redhead paused, studying me for a few seconds before stepping forward, into the pale glow the hall light provided.
Wow. Redhead was right, his hair was a mop of scarlet flames. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After all, I did grow up on Konoha, a village where people walk around with pink, purple and bright orange hair without receiving a second glance.
But just as I realised I was day-dreaming again, I felt a hand at my neck, and the ground rose up to meet me. The last thing I saw were red clouds lined in white, against fabric as black as night.
Ooh, spiffy.
*Sorry, that sounded like a bad horror movie, when an old lady gets murdered or something ^^'
Ooh, what will happen next?
And remember: don't actually hit someone over the head with a golf club. You could seriously injure them. D: