Title: Ramen
Author: Blau Rhapsody
Rating: G
Dedication: Chip-ani. ☺
Summary: Naota thinks about Mamimi and Haruko, and what kind of ramen they would be if they were ramen.
Disclaimer: I do not own Furi Kuri. It belongs to its respective owners. No money is being made off of this; its being written for entertainment purposes only.
Notes: Unbeta-ed. Written for Chip-ani, who is going to be going on numerous vacations, and whom I will see very little of from now on. You're not allowed to forget me or anyone else on H:DNA, okay Chip-ani? I love you! ♥♥♥
Naota didn't know why heate ramen with Haruko every night. He didn't know when it started, either. All he knew was that at eight o'clockevery night, he would start boiling water and make enough ramen for two people. Haruko would have a new flavour every week, but lately she had been having shrimp flavour. As for Naota, he had beef. He always had beef. He didn't like the other kind; chicken was too plain, vegetable too pepper-y….and all the others had flaws. But beef ramen was perfect, because there weren't any hidden ingredients that would make it taste anything like beef. Of course, there would be the occasional times when Naota wouldn't stir the flavour in enough, and the noodles would be a little salty, but it was still good, and besides, beef tasted salty sometimes, right?
Sometimes Mamimi would come by, although it wasn't for the ramen, but to see Conte. And if Conte was at the store or running errands, then she would sit and wait outside on the steps, playing Fire Starter or smoking and gazing at the sky.
But even if Mamimi didn't come, Naota and Haruko would always eat ramen, because Naota needed something constant in his life, because lately his life had a bunch of unexpected turns. And you could only go through so many before you slowly go insane. They would mostly talk, telling each other things that happened in the past, or something that had happened to them lately, but on the rare occasion they would just sit in a companionable silence, and it was these that Naota really liked, because he was able to think without being interrupted. Most of the time, anyways.
During the peaceful times, where the only noises would be the slurping of ramen and the occasional pair of cats making love in the bushes, Naota could really think. Think about how messed up his life was, how everything would be normal. How he never would have been able to see that yes, there are more exciting things then the life he was living, and how if Haruko never hit him on her scooter, he never would have been able to experience these things.
It was while he was eating ramen that he came to the conclusion that women were kind of like ramen. You boil the water - the relationship. You put the noodles in - the woman. You take the noodles out too quick, and the noodles are still hard, and not very pleasant. You keep them in for too long, and they're so soft they fall apart. But you keep them in for just that right amount of time, and allow the noodles to soak up the water, and its perfect. It tastes so good, and you're glad that you went through the trouble of preparing it, and of risking a fire, or burning the pot.
And if this was true, then what kind of ramen would Mamimi and Haruko be, Naota wondered. He ruled out chicken for both of them - neither of them were plain. Beef would be ruled out too. There was no way they weren't hiding something from him. Maybe it was just him, but all the women in his life seemed to know something that he didn't, and it infuriated him to no end.
Haruko would probably be like shrimp. It smelled good, and looked good, but when you get the kind you make in the microwave, rather than the stove, you see all the little chunks of shrimp. And it suited Haruko. Because like the noodles, she looked innocent enough, but she would attract the attention of everyone, and manage to get a couple of guys trapped within her noodles.
As for Mamimi…she was so weird. She'd probably be like chilli-flavour, although Naota had never tried it before. And he didn't plan on it, either. Chilli-flavoured ramen? It sounded disgusting. But it sounded like something Mamimi would eat, and so she must be chilli-flavour.
"Heey, Ta-kun, you okay? You're staring at me, and its freaking me out," a voice interrupted, and Naota blinked at Haruko, his blue eyes slightly glazed. Shaking his head, he adjusted the hat he had on his head and looked down at his ramen, a tinge of pink visible on his cheeks.
"I'm just thinking. That's okay, isn't it? What's it matter to you?" he snapped quietly.
"Nothing. Heey, are you blushing? You are, aren't you!" Haruko teased, arching her back, her pink hair brushing past her shoulders. Naota blushed more and began eating his ramen with a newfound eagerness.
Then again, women were nothing like ramen. Ramen was good. Ramen was simple. Women were anything but.