Neji had almost drifted off when he heard the 20 approaching. He had feigned falling asleep while standing up so that the beggars would leave him alone. He wanted to get home already. It was late and the bus had not come from some time. He wanted to nap for a few minutes but he was worried he would miss it. But when he heard it, he realized he would not have missed it. The sputtering of the engine and the clattering of the rickety steel rafters of the bus could be heard from the next block.
'Tanzaku Tanzaku!' the bus boy yelled to herd in prospective passengers from the sidewalk. He deftly leaped into the open door as the bus slowly rolled by, barely slowing down.
He was still not used to taking public transportation, but it was a refreshing change from the mind numbing glamor of his old life. His friends hassled him for being stupid. It was preposterous that anyone would leave a beautiful mansion in Karakura for the slums of Tanzaku. He might not have been given control of the Hyuuga mining conglomerate, but surely he would have been given the modest but well-to-do Bank of Hyuuga after a few years of working under his uncle.
But it was not a life he wanted. He wanted to live and breathe the world which his family had spent shunning. He wanted to know what it was life to live among the working class, to live solely on his own income, to eat at streetside shacks, to be afraid of not making ends meet, to know what it was like to face real problems.
He sat down in one of the cramped seats and budged a window open. He knew the bus would be fill up at the next corner, so he wanted to be closer to the open air. Unsurprisingly, someone sat next him less than a minute later. He could smell the sweat and grime on the person but did not bother to look at him. The smell was definitely male. At times like these, he wished for his old life back.
He heard the strum of a banjo, and cursed the number of street and bus performers in the city. And then he heard that voice.
It was a single ray of hope in the land of smoke and ash. The voice melted his weary soul. It made him see all that was beautiful amidst the drudgery and wretchedness of the inner city. For a moment he believed in the heavens again. The people, the city, and the streets melted into one another, as if they were part of one strange ecosystem. There was pain and death and suffering, but in grand scheme life was still beautiful. The voice had ignited the light in everything that was miserable. It lifted the doubts and the wretchedness of his life.
He turned to see the source of his sudden inspiration. He saw a woman with carrying a baby in a fabric sling, her arms were scarred with bug bites. She had a rather pedestrian face. The face of the masses, he thought. Her hair was sloppily pinned in two buns at the crown of her head. But she had striking eyes, deep brown and expressive. At that moment, it was the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
Then he heard a male voice join her. It was the man playing the ukelele. He had similarly disheveled hair – blonde and spiky. His face was dirty like hers. His voice was not unpleasant, but Neji was resentful. He did not want to share her with any other man. They sang a duet:
Do you remember friend, we both dreamed
Of running away to make our dreams come true
Past all the strangers
Through the wild narrow streets
Do you remember friend, all the shame we bore together
Haunted by pain and loneliness
Though just for a second our burdens disappeared
To pass through the deepest darkest places
This life is only a piece
Of the darkest place within the ocean
Forcing us to bury our bitterness
But we've sat on thrones too dear
The buds of our dreams came to bloom
Nourished by the sweet nectar
The nectar of our dreams wiping away our memories
This life is only a piece
Of the darkest place within the ocean
Forcing us to bury our bitterness
Though he had never met her before, he knew her. Perhaps in another lifetime. He was sure she knew him too, even if she was not currently aware of his existence. He knew she would understand him better than anyone else. He could feel their souls resonating. As he watched and listened to her sing, her voice as beautiful as liquid gold, he suddenly knew his life was worth living.
Their song finished and the man thanked the audience for listening while readying his coin bag. Neji tensely watched the woman, wishing she would come to him. He silently cursed when he saw that she headed with her coin purse toward the other side of the bus. When the man approached him, his face sunny and warm and naïve, he glared but gave his change anyway.
He turned his attention back to the mystery woman. He hoped she would turn around. If she made eye contact, he was sure something would switch. She would feel the same way too. The connection he felt was far beyond physical. It was spiritual and electrifying and intense.
She quickly scanned the room once more, and he tried to telepathically force her to look at him. Several seconds later, her eyes were on him. He saw them light up, just briefly. She smiled at him. And the was devastated.
She did not feel what he felt. All he saw in her was the fleeting admiration of a woman seeing a strikingly attractive man. She broke eye contact and gingerly hopped off the 20 it crawled to a stop. He froze, not knowing what to do, and the bus started moving again. He suddenly felt stupid.
'Thanks again for your time ladies and gentleman. My name is Naruto. I wish you safe travels,' said the blonde man. I don't care about you. I want to know her name. But in just a flash he was gone too.
I need to find her.