Trust me I'm a professional jkjk.

So this is a half baked plot that may or may not have came out of my ass about 3 hours ago with minor edits, plus being written on my phone too.

You have been warned

Disclaimer: do I look like I created Naruto?! No, now get out of the text and start reading the story.


No way.

"Okay, this might sound weird coming out of my mouth but-"

"You have 5 seconds before," He calmly leaves that sentence go unfinished as he cuts me off. Like wow, cut someone off while their speaking why don't you.

Well, this is awkward. My thoughts are splurging around the table with no way of knowing what's going on for you readers. Maybe I'm just speaking to the audience in my head instead of actual people, but you would be too if you saw what was in front of you.

A fucking ninja, a scantly clad one at that. It was none other than-

"Okay, okay chill. You do realize that for being 2D you have an amazing figure Zabuza, but why are you wearing cow print stockings and sleeves?" I have suddenly went from a nervous wreck to fashion critic, this is my legacy if he doesn't kill me now. "And those pants! Do the buttons go all the way to the back? If so, then tell the mist prisons to fire the seamstresses or seamsters?" I start questioning the integrity of my existence maybe I should dig up a hole while I'm talking. Prep my grave since he most likely won't do it.

All of a sudden he fucking huge ass sword was at my neck.

"Jesus fucking Christ on a stick!" As a flinched back from the offending item. "I have had guys show their swords off to me," insert implied induendo here. "But don't you think this is a little to sudden? I mean we only just met."

Someone just wants to see me burn to the ground.

Zabuza shifts slightly closer with his sword as I try to lean away without stepping back. I think he's ticked off now.

Woops.

"I'll ask again. Who are you, you don't look like Gato's goons. I would peg you as a spy if it weren't for the clothes." He makes a show of assessing me.

It made no sense, until I looked down myself, minding the sword that is still an inch or two below my chin.

I'm still in my PJs. My blue sleeveless dress that I got from Mexico, as read on the front, that clearly shows that I'm not wearing a bra. Well, to me at least, this is the the most mortifying part of my life. I'm thankful at least I have my jacket on.

"I can explain that!" I squeaked, I fucking squeaked dammit. "Only because that is the only thing normal in this entire bizarre conversation."

I stepped back slowly cause I don't trust myself to hit the blade in my erratic explanation.

"These are my night clothes" I gesture downwards, wiggling my toes in my socks. "I don't know 'bout you, but I have dreamt the most far out dream that I have ever dreamed. Starring you pointing that sword at me. Cause that's what this is, a dream." As I finish my piece I stuck my hands into my sweater. How Zabuza is half naked in this friggin cold of a dream I will never know.

A moment of silence later.

We have went from tense silence with a sword that reaches at most 10 feet as the deciding factor of whether I live or die. To a breathable moment when he puts that thing down.

Zabuza tilts his head to the side in contemplation. "You think this is a dream?"

"I mean if this is not a dream then I could pinch my cheeks right now." For a more dramatic affect that this is a dream, I slapped myself instead.

More silence.

"You wouldn't happen to have a closet to take me to Narnia would you."

When deep shit doesn't cover this entire episode of HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS REAL!