It started with the resident idiot. You know, the one that always wears orange (gosh, has he been in touch at all with fashion?), has an obsession with ramen, and always says 'believe it' at the end of a sentence. The obnoxious blonde we all know and wish we didn't as Naruto Uzumaki.
I'm a normal girl and all. I get good grades, I'm 5'4'' (I give up hopes of ever reaching the model height of Ino), and I drool over cute guys. All in all, I'm just a smart, hormonal teenager attending Konoha High. And because of that, I happen to have a bunch of friends who do not know when to stop texting—yes, Tenten, I am speaking to you. Suck it up. Which means that I am now involved in the highly unsafe task of replying to an urgent text message while attempting not to turn into Sakura jelly (NOT LIKE THAT, PERVERTS) in the flood of traffic. Still, the fact that my new phone caught the light of the sun in such a captivating way made up for it. Oh, it was my Simsung Rogue, my baby, my one true love, the one that throws me unto my bed and makes—okay, not that extreme. My fingers flew across the glossy black keyboard as a car hurtled towards me.
You'd think you were doomed, right? Me too. So I screamed like I had…well, like I had a SUV rushing towards me at eighty miles an hour. Crossing my arms over my head as a weak defense, I prayed it would serve off course. Of course, it did not. Instead, it remained on an even straighter route towards Haruno Sakura's death, if possible. Forcing my eyes open, I told myself that if I died, I might as well see a real car crash in action. Instead, something orange flashed across my field of vision, and I was swept up into the muscular arms of Uzumaki Naruto. Romantic? Why yes. Comfy? Totally. Smelly with the sweat of a potential super hero and a delusional Sakura who was suffering the effects of barely avoiding a painful death? You betcha.
"WHAT THE HELL, NARUTO?" I screamed as soon as I returned to my senses. I looked down, which turned out to be a big mistake. The ground seemed so small, I suddenly felt like throwing up. Besides, that wasn't exactly how I intended to thank my savior. Now, if only he was more dark, with pale skin and obsidian eyes. Didn't you know? Guys like Naruto are great best friends. Emo guys who are the quiet, strong type are so in. Double bonus if they make you sing Taylor Swift songs. Oh my god, I've watched too many movies. But anyways, he set me down.
"Sorry, Sakura-chan," he said, laughing nervously, "it's a long story, and I have to ask the Jiji if I can tell it to you." Briefly, I wondered who this 'jiji' was. That is, I did until I realized that Naruto could fly. They boy could fucking fly. As if that wasn't enough, he was wearing an orange battle suit complete with a pouch of shuriken and kunai. The next thing he'll tell me would be that he actually has ninja blood in him from a powerful clan like…Namikaze—you know, the ones that could control chakra beasts. Then he'd tell me he can control the Kyuubi, the most powerful of them all. Tch, as if.
"I'm actually a pureblood descendant of the Namikaze clan that can control chakra beasts. I control the Kyuubi. He's actually surprisingly nice once you feed him a few hamburgers," Naruto informed me. It was then that my brain decided (I totally agree) that I simply could not handle any more information without self destructing. So I blacked out.
