The Paradox of Things
Disclaimer: Yes I am the owner of Naruto....and also a habitual liar ;)
The first thing you would notice is that it stunk. It stunk of trash, heat, people, sex, drugs, and bodies. The next thing you'd notice is that it was grey and vacant. It is as if the whole city was lifted into dark and ominous clouds, yet periodically, and depending on what filled your eyes, the sun shined harshly. It blinded you into a distorted Van Go painting of a city, mixing the innocent, the bad, and the deadly into one meshed image. And as the light quickly chased away the filth of the night, little Umino Iruka was being gently whispered out of a deep slumber.
"Ruka baby....wake up sweet heart." The words flowed like a harsh wind through his childish dreams and guided him back to consciousness. "It's a new day..."
"MMmmmm!" The nappy headed Umino whined and attempted to burrow himself into his Winnie the Pooh fleece blanket, with FUN written on the bottom.
"Alright...get up bratbrat." Two slim feminine arms graced him with a warm bosom, and floated him towards a full sized bathroom. "Come on Ruka stop playing."
"Mmm hm hm hmmmm." Was all that came from the boy now comforting himself on a soft hazel bath rug that rested on the cold hard linoleum bathroom floor.
"Ruka please! Get up boy... stop playing all of the time..." Two arms dragged the boy into a full sized tub, with already warm water inside. "It's gonna get cold brat." Giving up, appeasing the frustrated woman no older than her early 20s, he stepped into the tub, awaiting for his skin to be burned by rough scrubbing with added elbow grease.
"Oooow!"
"Oh shut up. If you weren't so filthy all the time, we wouldn't have this problem."
"Mommyyyyaaaah!"
"Stand up."
He complied.
"Alright puppy, you're done." A stiff, fluffy maroon towel dorphed the little Umino into a ball of boy and linen.
His teeth were brushed for him, his clothes already laid out on his military style made bed. He was dressed, groomed, and carried to the breakfast table where his favorite breakfast awaited him perfectly lukewarm. "Go ahead and eat sweetie pie."
"Good morning son. Stop slouching at the table." A baritone voice, vibrated through the boy's small frame. With hair slicked back into a tight miniature pony tail, and a bottom down shirt, leading to navy blue slacks, leading to his hour glass flat shoes of ebony, the little Umino straightened himself up, properly eating his breakfast. There was plenty of it, and plenty more that could be cooked within a few minutes. There was jellied toast, eggs, bacon, and a side of grits already before the boy. Further down the table, there were sausages, French toast, a jug of milk , a jug of non pulp orange juice, a pot of coffee along with anything that could be craved in the wee hours of the morning.
"How did you sleep son?" The voice rumbled again, between choking down bacon.
"Fine."
"