Hinata loved the smell of hot chocolate on fresh winter nights, the warm feeling of a soft blanket over her fair skin and the crippling fire in the chimney. She loved the sounds her guitar made when she ran her fingers gently over the cords. Loved the softness of her thick lavender socks and the soothing warmth of the tea sliding through the walls within her throat. She was in love with the smell of new books and the smoothness of the white paper. When the rain would touch her closed window, asking for attention, she would open it slightly, letting the smell of the water reach her nostrils. What fell directly from the sky would find home on the carpet of her room, enveloping her being with a cold closeness that would give her shivers every time.
Hinata still preferred the freezing snow over the cold rain. She loved the crackling sounds it made whenever she would step on it on fresh mornings, or the way it filled the world with a pure white coat. Sure, sometimes she fell because of it, and her boots would get wet, soaking her socks in the process. And sure, it looked ugly and would turn brown when it melted, but this was because of the dirty city and the darkness of the individuals that would tarnish it. She believed that the snow was much more prettier, and much more sublime on top of mountains. Even though she didn't think she could one day reach it, it still looked magnificent in her dreams.
She loved it so much because it would erase the stinging loneliness she would feel over the course of time, changing her mood drastically and allowing her to feel the fresh breeze of nature again. When the bright white would appear on the streets and the cold air enter her lungs, she would feel a sparkle in her eyes form and flowers grow in her lower belly from sole excitement. This is what made the snow so amazing to her. Because through the redness of her nose and it's incessant running, snow would always send warm waves of happiness through her being, and shine on the remaining dust that sadness left in her heart. And don't even mention the way the sun would shine and make the snow sparkle.
The sun would always make the snow shine.
Whenever her friends would come over her house, she would ornate their hair with flowers, different accessories and heart shaped barrettes. They would recommend different horror and gore movies for them to play through the night, but she would be reticent most of the time, being more romance oriented and a little bit too sensible to watch hearts getting ripped out of a random guy's chest. When she would actually agree to watch these kind of movies with them, she would snuggle next to Ino's side, resting her head on her breasts, rolled tightly in a blanket like a cinnamon-roll. The blond would run her fingers in the silk-like threads that were her hair strands, and Morpheus would take her away in a comfortable sleep. She wasn't a light sleeper, so the screams and stressful music emanating from the screen wouldn't wake her up. Plus, her friends were always careful about that and constantly lowered the sound so that it wouldn't startle her.
Sometimes they agreed and watched that romantic movie she hopelessly wanted to see, even though Ino would rant on and on and complain about the fact that she had already seen it with her boyfriend. Whatever she said, she was always the first to shed a tear and swear whenever the protagonist would do something stupid. Her behavior always brought giggles up Hinata's throat, never failing in painting a smile over her face. Sometimes Sakura would lose her temper and urge Ino to shut her mouth, and that would be funny too.
What Hinata loved the most about romantic movies was the bubbles it brought to her lower belly and the light squeeze to her heart. She would look at the couple fondly when cute scenes would come up, and her eyes would sparkle with a warm light of affection when they would kiss for the first time. Even though she wasn't in a relationship nor in love with anybody – other than that one actor she followed on every social media he had – she still liked watching them. They didn't make her feel hollow or sad. No. Just like the snow, they would ignite a warm fire in her lower belly, and stretch a smile on her porcelain face.
When they didn't watch a movie, they would talk boys and patisseries over the soft sounds Sakura's ukulele made when she played it, pink pajamas and white fur socks on. Ino would braid her hair with talented hands and swift fingers and tuck blue and violet flowers in her indigo strands, bluebells tinkling next to her ear. Staring at her reflection in the pocket mirror Tenten handed her, she would blush and tuck a flyaway lock behind her ear, averting her gaze every once in a while from her imposing figure on the flat glass. Sometimes they tried on some clothes they bought during the day. Ino would try to force a shirt down her chest, when it was obvious that it was way to short for her imposing breasts. Sakura would laugh at her and pinch her waist, but they both knew it was only teasing and laugh it off in the end.
When they didn't watch a movie, talk, braid hair or try on clothes, they cooked. Most of the time it was pizzas and ice cream and cinnamon rolls and chips and peanut butter and jelly and all of these greasy and sweet things you weren't allowed to eat in huge quantities. But when they would do things with their own hands, it was spices and vegetables and meat and way too much things for four young women. Sometimes they attempted to bake a cake to accompany the tea, but they would end up covered in flour with three broken eggs at their feet. Sure, it was funny, so funny Hinata would feel tears running down her face, cheeks hurting from laughing way too much and abs stinging a bit. But cleaning the mess they've made of themselves and her kitchen was exhausting. They agreed that cakes were out of the run.
Still, Hinata spent great times around her friends, even if they were clumsy and chaotic and left her apartment a mess. She did get out of her apartment though. Whether it was to go out and spend time with Kiba at the dog park, or have a bubble tea with Shino and the kids he baby-sited, Hinata was never in for too long. She enjoyed being outside, but still the comfort of her couch and her soft blankets were unbeatable.
When she was alone at home, she spent most of her time sketching on her desk, studying anatomy and perspective, gardening – because god knows how much she loved plants – or facetiming Hanabi. While her sister ranted about her day at school and how her new target – one boy she called Konohamaru – was kind of cute, Hinata drew, added watercolor to her new piece and nodded throughout her story telling. But what Hinata enjoyed the most was hidden in the commode that sustained her television. It was cables and buttons, slight dust over old software and cartridges with bright pictures over them.
Yes, she was fond of retro gaming.
When the opening title played on her flashy screen, a raging adrenaline would begin to run in her veins, causing her heart to stammer a little bit too hard inside her rib-cage. But it was okay; she loved the way she felt when she would turn on the console and the funky music would begin to play. It was amazing. Yes, she did spend a lot of money on these little babies, and she might have too much of them – so much she needed two shelves unit to organize all of it – but she just adored them so much. Sometimes they got expensive as rare pieces were, well, rare pieces and not easy to find and buy. Because yes, the hardest part was to afford them. When she was younger, around sixteen, it was easier to pay for these kind of games as people didn't care much about them and thought that they didn't have much valor. So she could purchase her games without too much trouble and make great deals. But now that she was in art school, working part time at the coffee shop and the florist, prices were escalating. Maybe people found an interest in retro gaming. It was a great thing for sure, that meant that she could befriend more people who were into the same thing as her, but the stinging pain that an empty wallet brought to her heart still was hard to get used to. Deep down, she knew she couldn't ever get used to it.
Yet, the urge to run and buy new games was too strong and present in her being for her to simply ignore. So after brushing lightly her hair, putting on her coat, straightening her long camel skirt and lacing her shoes, Hinata was out in the cold. After taking public transports – because she still didn't take driving lessons – and running a little bit to arrive on time, Hinata would find herself in these huge yard sales. Just like now.
Most of the time she would go through every stand, look at each of their product in search of an unknown beauty that would catch her gaze. Sometimes she would start a conversation with the seller and maybe even have a laugh – well take her time. But now, she had just one goal.
Find one guy – or one girl – that sold the cartridge of Zelda Majora's Mask.
Sellers, most of the time, didn't actually know how much valor these games had and just decided to sell them because they found them in their garage or whatever. Sometimes some people sold their games for really low prices, as it was what their children or cousin or any other relative played when they were younger. Not that she was complaining. Not at all. She could say that ignorance definitely had some advantages in some cases. Getting a new game for eight dollars when it could have costed her twenty or thirty was amazing.
She already had the standard cartridge of the game, but it was close to death as dust was getting into its system, time eating away its lifespan. She would have to blow into it repeatedly for the graphics to show up on the screen. It was one of her oldest pieces ; she got it when she was fairly young actually, being a fan of the franchise for quite some time. She remember playing it for hours, and even Hanabi would tag along, sucking on a popsicle. It was even her that beat the first boss that Hinata encountered, since she was kind of nervous about it. She didn't want to lose after getting so far in the game! Yes, Hanabi never played, not even once, but she did actually kill the big monster and proceeded to hand the game controller to Hinata with a smug look transplanted on her face. Hinata was sure that if her sister wasn't here, she would have been able to beat it herself. It was just that, you know, in the heat of the moment, the adrenaline and all, she was way too anxious to face the big guy.
So, after she completed her one hundred percent of the game, she got back on her feet and got into the boss room. Adrenaline pulsing in her veins and quick heartbeats pushed her to finish him off in less than five minutes. After getting out of the temple, she felt pride grow in her veins.
She walked for about ten minutes before her eye caught one golden cartridge among many other silver ones. Here, surrounded by a multitude of other games, was the beauty she longed for so long. Finally, finally, she was able to get her hands on it–
"Hinata ?"
Eh?
At the mention of her name, she looked up from the pile of cartridges in front of her and stared at the man in front of her. She could feel her mouth open in shock.
"Oh...! Mister Umino! I didn't expect to see you around here." She exclaimed, a look of surprise plastered over her face.
"Ah well, I had some stuff in my house that I wished to throw away to save some space. I figured that I could make some money out of them, so I decided to sell them. – Ah, and I already told you that you could call me Iruka!" he said, a smile over his tanned face.
She for sure didn't expect to find anyone she knew around here. A slight blush bloomed across her face features. Well, now, she couldn't hide her adoration for these old babies anymore, Iruka having witnessed her slight drooling and over excitement when she stared at the cartridge, a strong fire burning in her eyes.
Iruka was the owner of the flower shop she was working part-time in. He was a very kind men who loved plants dearly. Whatever he touched with his magic fingers turned into a beautiful garden of vivid colors. His tanned skin mixed well with the bright green of the verdant interior. He had that scar over his nose that made Hinata very curious when she first started working with him. One day, after gathering up the courage to ask him, he laughed for a short period of time before saying that it was 'the casualties of work'. Well, she could guess she could go with that.
"What about you? I never thought I would see you in these kind of places."
Ah yes. She had to explain why she was here.
"Well, um, I was looking for things. Yes, things to decorate my apartment."
"Things? I saw you stare at that game cartridge for quite some time, I'm sure it isn't made to be put in a frame or over a counter." Iruka said, a playful smile stretching his chapped lips.
She couldn't try and hide her little – yes, little – adoration for these fine articles. It wasn't like mister Umino was going to judge her or anything. Considering the fact that they've been working for quite some months now and that they were pretty close for co-workers, it was normal to let him know about her likes and dislikes, right ? She didn't even know how she managed to hide it all this long.
"Well, actually, I came because, um, I saw that one game I was searching for was being sold here, so, erm, since I really wanted to get it, I came." Light pink dust spread over her pale cheeks. Why was she so embarrassed ?
Iruka laughed lightly. "It's this one right ?" He handed her the Zelda cartridge with care, eyes locked into hers. "My godson might have played with it a little bit, so it was used before. But it is still working like it was newly bought, promise !" He smiled again, tilting his head a little.
Hinata looked at the gold cartridge that her tiny hands cupped, inspecting it, moving it around, a ferocious intensity in her lavender eyes. It looked brand new, that was for sure. She spotted no scratches, no scrapes, not any trace of the laceration of time. It suffered no damage. Before averting her gaze back to Iruka's proud face, she noticed a logo drawn with a shaky hand over the warning directives, at the back of the piece. It looked like a fox, strong orange flashes begging for her attention. She didn't care much, probably the work of a creative kid.
"You have a godson?" She asked, a questioned look pulling at her delicate features. It seemed like they were learning new things about each other today.
"I didn't introduce you to him?" His eyebrows twisted over his forehead. "Mmh, strange, I thought you already knew each other. Do you remember that guy that sometimes helps me out with the delivery? Blond hair, blue eyes, tanned skin and ridiculous whiskers covering his cheeks." Hinata's mouth formed a slight oh. "Yes that one!" He grinned.
Oh, that one.
Hinata could already feel herself blushing.
The first time she saw him, she was in the back of the shop, dust over her skirt and face, hands covered in a black substance she had yet to find the provenance and identity of. Iruka was running late at a meeting – well, it was actually a date, but he didn't want to admit it to her – and he asked her to check the storage for her, and clean the place a little bit. Before shutting the door behind him, he screamed something about not forgetting to throw the trash and cleaning the living room. But it was not directed at her. Iruka's apartment was right above the shop. He could access it through the stairs located next to the door of the storage room. She knew that once in a while, someone would come and live with him some days before leaving. She had yet to find who it was.
After getting ready to go home, bag over her shoulder and coat on, she opened the door of the storage room. She did clean the place. But. She didn't expect to spend so much time in there. She didn't expect to see so much dust in the corner and so much loam on the floor. She didn't expect herself to be carried away by her meticulous side and clean everything by herself.
So, when that bucket full of dull water fell on her head, knocking some things along with him in its fall, a huge cacophony roaring from the room, she didn't expect to see a pair of blue eyes stare at her with worry.
She absolutely didn't expect it.
She was drenched in cold water, bangs sticking to her forehead, long indigo hair wet, slick strands in her mouth. He took both of her shivering hands and got her back on her feet so quickly she felt stars shaking in her brain. He then proceeded to ask her lots, lots, lots of questions. She couldn't figure out what he was saying, she was too mesmerized by the sharpness of his jaw and the wild locks that ornamented his head.
He was radiant. That was a fact. Handsome was a little bit too dull of a word to describe him. It was too weak next to the radiant aura that emanated from him. He had that shade of skin that made the sun shine ever so brightly just to show off that glorious melanin of his. His eyes were a deep pool of blue. A passionate blue. Sparkles swam in there, like stars would in the darkness of the night. But, unlike the pitch darkness of midnight, the fragments of sky he had on his face were so, so bright. She wondered how they looked when he was basked in the warmth of the sunset.
"Hey, can you hear me? Did you become deaf when you fell. Ah shit, that could be problematic. We could call an ambulance or somethin'- ah yes we're definitely calling an ambulance–"
"What?" What? "N-No! Don't, I-, I'm fine!"
"Ah! You can speak! What's your name? I'm Naruto Uzumaki! Nice to meet you!" He extended his arm and presented his hand to her. Which she responded to by showcasing her darkened hands, dirty with work and labor. "Oh. Erm, wait." He averted her gaze from her, seeming to look for something. He grabbed a towel located over her head and handed it to her. "Here," He smiled. That, that was a bright smile.
"I'm Hinata. Hinata Hyuga. I am working part time with mister Umino..." She stared at the mess she had made of herself and the restroom, and that was when a crimson blush painted her face. So embarrassing. "I'm so sorry, for the mess..." She bowed. "I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, I-I'll clean up everything I promise–"
"Hey, no need to be so sorry! It's okay, you didn't do it on purpose!" He grinned. "Honestly, when I heard that huge sound coming from downstairs, I thought you were a robber or somethin' like that, y'know!" He laughed. What a beautiful laugh. "But what could you rob from a flower shop, huh? There's just pots and plants, not much." He stepped back, crouched, and began to clean up the mess. "Well, you could find pretty ladies with wet hair on the floor, covered in mud and partially mute." Naruto smirked.
She blinked thrice before blushing a violent shade of red. She then proceeded to replace a strand of hair behind her ear and began to reorganize the storage room alongside him. At first they didn't talk much, Hinata still very embarrassed and Naruto busy with what was in his hands. But the blond couldn't be quiet for too long, so, after putting a gardening scissor back in place, he began to ask her questions while he moved around quickly. She answered them calmly, some stuttering here and there, giving him short but clear answers. She tried to avert her gaze from him as much as possible. She faced the wall instead of his face. Sometimes he would get really close, putting a box far above her head, and she would feel her face burn.
Ah, if only she was alone and nobody was here to witness her in that state.
His arm bumped her wet sleeve. "You're drenched in water." He grimaced. "Come with me, I'll give you a shirt and a jacket, at least." He opened the door of the room and began to walk out.
"Wha- I-I don't need clothes, it's okay! I'm okay, um. I can go home like this, please do not worry about me." She followed him, leaving the tiny space and narrow walls.
"What ? But you'll get sick if you go out like that! Don't worry I don't mind. Plus, it's just clothes, I'm not giving away my grandparents' ashes or somethin', y'know." Naruto grinned. He began walking up the stairs, his steps making the wood creak under his weight. She stood here, mouth slightly open, speechless, her coat and bag in hers arms.
"Are you coming?" She heard him from upstairs. She must have stood here for quite some time.
"A-Ah, um, yes!"
He offered her a dark, long sleeved shirt with a bright orange jacket. She insisted on the fact that she already had her coat and her scarf, and that she wouldn't need the jacket, but he zipped it up to her mouth, shushing her with his index. He then gave her a towel to dry her hair, and she did so with pink dust on her cheeks and nose, gaze directed to her feet. When he would ask her questions, she would always answer them. Sometimes she would even smile or giggle behind her hand at his antics.
Once finally out of the shop, a hand over her beating chest, she came to the realization that the redness of her face didn't go too well with the vivid orange of his jacket, nor the light lavender of her skirt. The slight smell that lingered on the shirt made her feel slightly dizzy, and she kind of liked it. Kinda.
The next day, she came back to the store, bowed, stuttering excuses, and then handed back his clothes, embarrassment clinging to her lower belly. Iruka was next to them at that moment, and upon hearing the story, he laughed. The situation was funny, in some ways. But since she was a little bit flustered, she got out of the shop very quickly.
Yes, that was how she met that very pretty blond boy. And she managed to make a fool of herself, all of that without even trying.
Of course, she did her best to avoid him, but whatever happened, whenever he was in town, she would always bump into him: the grocery shop, the train, the bus stop and even the laundromat! She wondered if he was following her. But of course that wasn't possible. He barely knew anything about her. When he would call out her name, the syllables rolling beautifully on his tongue, Hinata would stop running from him, turning to face him. And they would talk, he would ask questions about anything and everything, and she would answer them. He would make jokes and she would giggle behind her hand. When he looked at her, she felt like flowers were growing out of her skin. She was blooming, shining in his presence. She felt free.
But, right now, she was not free of Iruka's sluggish look.
"Ah, yes. Oh-, you're his godfather?" Her eyebrows jerked up.
"Yeah. We've known each other since he was, like, eight, or ten? Something around these numbers." The brunette smiled. Nostalgia filled his eyes.
They did seem pretty close.
"So, that game, you want it? Your fingers don't seem to want to leave it." Ah, yes, she was clinging to it like it was her way to paradise and eternal prosperity. She nodded, corners of her mouth quirking up a bit, and began to get her wallet out of her bag. "It was around ten right ?" She asked.
"Ehh, I was planning on giving it to you!"
"Oh, no, no, you really don't need to do that. Plus you came here to make some money, and I was already planning on emptying my pockets a little bit." She got out 10 dollars and handed them to him. She forced the money into his hands, and after insisting and arguing for about five minutes, he agreed with a sigh, putting the bill into his wallet. They talked some more for some time, Hinata checking his other articles while answering him. Before bidding farewell, she got from him one large gray sweater and an unused sketchbook. It had a blank cover. She could probably personalize it.
Upon returning home, Hinata had a smile plastered on her face.
Once fully inside, she kicked her boots off her feet, snatched her scarf from her neck and threw her coat on the vintage arm chair in the entrance of her apartment. After cleaning her hands and getting in her pajamas – she put on the gray sweater she got earlier and bottoms with a repetitive triforce pattern, she crashed onto her couch. She took the bag she installed carefully on the coffee table upon her arrival with sneaking excitement. Taking the game out from it, she stared at it, sitting in the crest of her delicate hands. Finally.
Getting up from her spot, she got out her Nintendo 64 and plugged in the different wires: one behind her TV and the other on a white power strip. She adjusted the sound, inserted the gold cartridge into the silver slot, and, while biting her lower lip, turned the power switch on.
The big screen showcased the Nintendo logo. It shined bright in the dimly lighted room, reflecting on Hinata's pale skin and excited eyes. It stayed there for what seemed to be an eternity to her, which was actually just a few seconds but well. And then, a black screen.
The mask of Majora appeared, turning around and around, getting closer to the screen. And then a laugh. The kind of laugh that made your stomach twist, feeling of untrust on your tongue. The mask salesman, with Majora's mask in his hands. He smiles. Shivers down her spine.
The regular intro of the game started playing,
Hinata released a breath she didn't realise she was holding.
This.
This was the wave of nostalgia that she was talking about.
?
Naruto stretched himself fully on the couch, and yawned big.
It was Saturday, 11AM. He had breakfast. A bunch of cereals thrown in a bowl and some decent amount of milk. He ate that in front of cartoons for kids. It was quite enjoyable, actually. Some scenes were funny enough to rip laughter out of his throat. By "some", that meant, like, two thirds of them.
Now he was just laying flat on the couch. Thinking about what the hell he could do to make his day less boring.
He spent the week working on stuff for university and he was exhausted. He had finished most the work he had to do. Just some little details he had to check on later when he would be completely woken up, out from bliss.
He was specializing in programming and coding, and he actually enjoyed it a lot. When he was younger, in high school, he also liked to learn basic stuff about combustion about incineration. He remembers that he used to spend quite some time learning by heart the different elements of the periodic table that could explode and make cool things if brought together. When they began philosophy classes in senior year, he felt like he could free himself from whatever retained his mind before. It was cool, talking about stuff, trying to word it out in a special way. He still had to remember the names of the big philosophers and it was kinda frustrating, but he still did it. Dope to know you can trick people's mind into believing the same thing as you, as long as you worded it out perfectly. A special technique of speech. Maybe he should find a name for it.
That's how he discovered that, when he was interested in something, he could pull it off amazingly well.
But when he didn't dig with something, he didn't dig at all. At. All.
Biology classes were horrible. He couldn't stomach the teacher and the squeak of her boots on the way too clean floor. He didn't even want to think about it. They were just horrible. English was not fun, he had too much rules to learn. And yes, it was the same for physics but at least something interested him in that class. English class was just plainly boring, and the teacher was too. Always needing complete silence but still screaming when speaking. Naruto always had a thousand question marks on his face whenever he did that. Like, '?'. Why would you act this way.
PE were okay. He could run for a while and play basketball when asked to. At least he was allowed to be high on dopamine excess freely for like, one hour and half, without people asking what the fuck he was actually doing. So he jumped, ran, pushed forward and hoped for the best. Full of sweat, moist hands and sticky forehead with bangs hugging his eyebrows. But oh God. Once he started moving on the ground. The wind felt so great on his face.
When he was rushing, it was like he could crush everyone's bones.
But yeah that was until he was required to play ping pong. The most boring sport in the history of humanity next to golf and pétanque.
Sports were fun only when he was full of colors. When everything got down, weights were attached to every joint of his body. It was… less enjoyable. He would always get bad grades when the world turned blue. Deep Sea.
Anyway.
He chose programming and coding because creating things seemed fun. He wasn't a prodigy of art. When he would paint, he would leave a mess on the canvas and all around him. Everyone always said that he left a mess behind him. They even said he was a mess.
Creating stuff with a line of short, easy to remember combinations was fun. It was always satisfying to see the result of his work at the end. These kind of things didn't require for him to learn too much boring stuff that he couldn't keep up with so that was cool.
But he did the choice of specializing in this field because he wanted to create games.
Naruto devoted so much of his time as a child and teenager to games. Playing them, getting deep into the technical stuff, idolizing them, babying them, loving them. Playing video games as a child helped him focus on something else. He didn't really feel like overthinking or being irritable. So he played video games. Worked in the summer to get enough money in order to buy more of them. He couldn't always rely on Iruka or his late godfather to purchase expensive shit for him.
He remember spending so much time at Iruka's house playing the games he just bought or the ones found in his godfather's garage. He would take off his dirty Converse, wash his hands and run in front of the square TV. Iruka would bring two tall glasses full of orange juice for the both of them before sitting next to him. Naruto always, always started rambling about the game he was playing, explaining the story and the little details and the stuff that really had no importance at all, but still was important to him, in a way. Iruka would always listen, too. Naruto was thankful of that.
His godfather liked to praise his skills and sharp memory. Naruto felt loved.
Sometimes he would feel like playing multiplayer games. But he didn't have many friends growing up, so he couldn't bring any at home. Iruka would be there to hold the second controller thought. Whether it was board games like Mario Party or races like Mario Kart, his godfather would always give it a try. Sure, he wasn't the best, and he would lose 95% of the time since Naruto spent so much time perfecting his moves. The last 5% were pure luck, the blond was sure of that.
From time to time, Iruka's friend, Kakashi, would come and be the owner of the third glass of orange juice. Naruto constantly lost to him when the game played required tactics and brain stuff. It was not like he was dumb or anything, Kakashi was just way smarter than he was. It was still fun, playing games with two more people.
He then managed to make friends once he fully moved in Iruka's house and paperwork was done. It was kinda complicated, and there were problems and things Naruto preferred to forget. But then Iruka was happy to see new faces next to the doorstep. Shikamaru, Choji, and Kiba. Most of the time, they played Mario Party.
Shikamaru didn't play, he instructed. He teamed up with Choji while the later held the controller. They were a great duo, and their chemistry brought a fire within Choji's kindness that Naruto never noticed.
Kiba and Naruto were also a great team. Just a very, very loud one. They also fought on who would hold the controller and who would play which game. But when it worked out, they would switch roles and let the other play the game they were the best at. When it was smashing sessions, Naruto was the finest. When it was about reflexes and speed, Kiba lead. They balanced themselves. But well, that was only when they did a two VS two against Choji and Shikamaru. They would make a mess out of the living room when they were against each other. Iruka would scold them then.
But it was fun. It was so much fun.
Naruto smiled and laughed so much when they were home. He bought more multiplayer games then. There were more and more orange juice filled glasses.
When the saturation fell and he started drowning, he hated multiplayer. He wanted to play solo. He wanted to kill the bugs in his ears with the loud background music. He wouldn't tell Iruka much about the story when he was swimming in his Sea. He would just dive deep into the screen and stay quiet. Iruka would bring him orange juice but he wouldn't touch it. Sometimes his godfather would become noisy and he would be so irritated and he just wanted him to leave him alone. Iruka would scold him, but Naruto would just scream louder. When he was angry. These weren't very good nights.
Naruto passed a hand over his face. He shouldn't be thinking about that.
He got up from the couch. Checked the living room out. Up. Down. Left. Right. Yeah, nothing to do. He could, like, vacuum or clean some things in the house, just to get his body going. He didn't want to lay around and just do nothing. He didn't want to feel like he was drowning again. He had to find something to do.
Naruto wasn't in his house. It was Iruka's apartment, situated above the flower shop. He came once in a while when he felt rather balanced, even slightly upbeat but not too fucked up. When he was on the extremes, Naruto thought it was better to go back to his own apartment. Sometimes he couldn't predict the switches so eventually he would fuck things up. He didn't like that. He felt guilty afterwards. But Iruka was always forgiving, and he would always just pretend to be mad for two minutes and then proceed to ruffle his hair affectionately. Iruka loved him, even though he was messy. Naruto felt appreciated.
He noticed the tangled wires coming out from the drawer under the TV. Ah, yes. He could untangle these to try and occupy his mind. This way he wouldn't focus on irritating stuff. He opened his phone with swift fingers and played some catchy music. Yeah. That was great. He needed to mute everything.
Upon opening the white drawer, Naruto discovered that the wires were actually coming from an old gaming console. A Nintendo 64, more precisely. Naruto's eyebrows quirked up, like tall twin mountains. Even the regular gray controller was here. He grabbed it, feeling the cold material against his palm. It had been so long since he actually played it. He could recall the good moments experienced with his friends. So much nostalgia. But…
Where were the games?
He frowned. Iruka would always put them next to the console so that Naruto wouldn't turn his living space upside down just to find that one game he suddenly felt like playing. Of course that was the one he ignored for like, more than ten months without showing any interest whatsoever to it. Sometimes it would occur to him that he would feel the sudden urge to play that game. He needed to play it, now, or else he'd feel very irritated and angry.
But yeah, anyway, that wasn't what he was supposed to think about.
Where were the games ? Iruka couldn't have thrown them, right ? He knew that Naruto loved them a whole lot.
Ah, but his godfather told him something this morning before hurrying outside the door, hands full of bags of whatever. He said something about going out and buying something. Naruto had nodded to whichever question he had asked him. Because he was too sleepy.
But did he really mention buying?
Wasn't it… Selling?
Oh.
He remembered now.
Iruka wanted to sell the games he didn't use anymore.
Naruto blinked, once, twice and then thrice, before blooming an anxious smirk over his features. He couldn't have done that… right ? But he asked for his permission. He wasn't the one to blame, right ? But why didn't he ask him sooner? He knew that his godson couldn't process things very well half awake. Like most of the human population actually.
Ah these are just games, he should calm down.
Yeah.
But he really liked those games.
He truly loved those games.
(Even though he didn't touch them for ages.)
He ran his eyes quickly over the drawer. No. Unbelievable. He even took Majora's Mask with him?! Oh no. What is he going to do. His favorite game was probably in the hands of a stranger by now.
Naruto began furiously typing chopped up words on his phone. The target of his anger : Iruka. He sent him multiple texts with uppercase letters and exclamation points. Lots of them. And also an abusive amount of interrogation marks.
'How could you do this to me?! Did you really sell them? I can't believe you DID THAT?! I can't believe you actually did that.' and many other varieties. That was legit betrayal. He couldn't accept it.
Of course Iruka didn't answer in the one minute and thirty-five seconds Naruto granted him. So he called him, four times. And it was only when he tried again for the fifth time that he deigned to answer.
'Naruto?' he heard Iruka's gentle voice over the phone 'Did something happen? You called me so many times!'
'Well, yeah! You basically got off with all my games!'
'Ah, your games? But we agreed on selling them since you didn't touch them for what seemed to be decades.' Iruka's voice seemed confused.
"But I was half asleep! I couldn't recall what happened when I woke up! You did that on purpose! I'm sure of it!"
'Ehh?! Listen Naruto, I don't know why you're so angry but i'll tell you that ; only two games from your whooping thirty to forty have been sold. Stop freaking out. And couldn't you at least say 'Hello, How are you dad?' before jumping on me?!' Ah, now he seemed annoyed.
'Really? Only two? What a relief.' He exhaled. What a relief. Yeah. He didn't answer to the last thing his godfather said. 'But wait, what were the games sold? Was there a golden cartridge with a little fox symbol over it given away?' He gulped.
'Well…' He seemed to think for a moment. 'I can't really tell about the fox symbol, but... I know that a golden cartridge was sold.'
What?
"What…?! No!" Naruto only had one golden cartridge. "This was the most important one…" a whine escaped his lips.
'What's so precious about this one Naruto? Was it expensive?'
"No, it's just, like… I modified the game."
'What?'
Naruto cleared his throat and began to explain himself, 'Well, you know, i wanted to try things, like, mods and stuff and all.' He started making weird movements with his hands, trying to put into words his thoughts. Explaining, you know. 'Like, the game ain't the original game, it's- I wanted to see how C programming would work so i did a couple things and-.'
'Naruto. I don't understand a thing.'
"Well-, anyway! It's not the original game. I changed stuff, like dialogues and story and adventures and all!"
Naruto had indeed changed some – well, actually, lots of things up. He first had felt a certain desire to try some mods that were out there on internet, just to have some fun. But then he got lost and decided to change the original story, the textures and stuff characters said, because, you know, why not. And he had so much fun doing it. It just seemed like he could create his own story like that, without really needing to create a new engine to have his game run through. He just had to make a few changes and done. It was like he had the power to do whatever he wanted to.
He couldn't believe so many hours of fun and work got lost in less than five minutes or so.
It seemed like Iruka was trying to process what Naruto just said to him, because he didn't answer for what seemed like an eternity to his godson. Naruto started drumming on his thighs with his skinny fingers as impatience ran through his system.
"Hello?" Was Iruka still on the line? He could hear voices and noises coming from wherever Iruka was, but the caller on the opposite end was quieter than a sheet of paper somehow.
'The one who took the game was Hinata, the girl who works with me. You know her right?' The blond nodded, even though Iruka couldn't see him. Naruto remembered the indigo haired girl very well. He did not forget the red cheeks and the shy side glances. Iruka did not wait for his vocal answer to continue talking. 'I can't really go to her house right now since I'll be there until four or five in the afternoon, but I can ask her if you can come get the game."
"Mmh..." His grip tightened around his phone. Losing a game right after getting it was like giving birth and discovering that your baby got kidnapped thirty minutes later. Yeah, it was that serious. Believe it. He wasn't attracted to the idea of disappointing someone, but it still was his game. After all, he didn't agree to giving them away. Well technically he did, but he couldn't actually remember saying it, so that didn't count.
"Could you give me her number, so I can contact her myself?"
?
What the hell was that ?
Hinata blinked, her tiny hands gripping the controller with more strength. Link, the main character of every The Legend of Zelda game, wasn't supposed to be wearing a bright orange jumper and have spiky hair. When getting the game running, she was expecting a green tunic and hat, with smooth blond hair and virgin face. Not spikes and whiskers and orange and–
Whiskers? Who had whiskers anyway?
She pushed the stick forward, making the character run. Well at least the running animation had not changed. The world seemed to be completely normal, aside from the brutal change in character design. The background music too remained true to its original self.
She blinked again, still dumbfounded. What was this ? She was sure of one thing : it wasn't Majora's Mask, well, not fully. Few modifications had attracted her attention, but her phone started to violently shake, startling her. She pressed the red button, pausing the game, before glancing at her phone on the far end of the couch.
Meh, she forgot to put the Do Not Disturb mode on. Seemed like she was not receiving texts, as her cell began buzzing forcefully on her couch in a regular pattern. 'Ehh, a call...' Hinata didn't like calls. She had to constantly hold a conversation for what seemed to be longer than a poop break, and she hated it. If she wasn't the one calling, then it was bound to be awkward. Well, when it was Hanabi, it was okay, because she was her sister, and she was the one handling the 'conversation' part, so, yeah.
Hinata tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the clear screen. Many different numbers was what she saw, and that's when she knew she wasn't picking up. An unknown number? She was never answering. So she waited for the phone to stop vibrating and sighed. She was about to set the phone down next to her crossed legs and pick up the controller when it began buzzing again.
She frowned.
What if it was an important call? What if it was her father calling her from another phone for a reason she didn't know about? What if it was a friend just a friend with a new number?
What if?
'Ahh! Now, I'll feel guilty if I don't pick up!' She pursed her lips, slid her finger on the screen to answer before putting the phone next to her ear.
"Hello?" She began, her voice little and hesitant. She shouldn't have answered, it was probably just a joke, prank, or whatever.
"Yes. Hi. This is Naruto? Godson of Iruka. Do you remember me? Kinda been a long time since we saw each other. Ah, sorry for disturbing you but you buyed that game from my father but actually it's mine, and it's uh, kinda severely modded. So like, do you mind me showing up to your house so I can pick it up?"
Eh?
Eh?
Ehhhhh?