A lovely person by the name of Hanmac suggested I write something with Naruko and Konohamaru, since I wrote something for the same couple, only with Naruto. I didn't want to do anything too long, because I was scared it'd end up too much like The Sitter, which is the one with Naruto. No sex, just fluff. I'm not really into genderbent characters and Naruko and all that bleh, but I feel good about this one.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I make no money from this fiction. The series and the characters portrayed in this story belong to Kishimoto Masashi.
Summer.
A season. Hot and fierce, depending on where you live. Warm and usually nostalgic. The beach, the pool, ice cream cones, bikinis, and kids playing around in the heat of the day without any school to worry about. Everyone knows what summer is.
Another definition of the word means, "the finest period of development, beauty, and perfection."
Konohamaru stared somewhat blankly at the girl sitting a little ways in front of him. Long, blond hair was tied up into a large and messy bun directly on top of her head, some strands having been dampened with sweat and clinging to her slender neck in a rather untidy fashion. A loud, orange spaghetti-strap shirt hung off of her shoulders, showing off the straps of a black sports bra underneath which contrasted nicely with her tanned skin. A pair of white shorts clung to her waist, not coming close to reaching her knees, and she curled her toes against a pair of pink flip-flops.
The girl was sixteen. Konohamaru was thirteen. Only three years apart, but people seemed to have a problem with their relationship regardless. He supposed it was still rather odd, seeing as he was still in middle school and the girl before him was a sophomore in high school. By the time she reached eighteen, he'd be illegal to her, and he was worried for when that time came. Would she call it off? Would she have matured and found someone else her age? If she stayed with him, would she be sent to prison?
Konohamaru shifted his gaze down to his own bare feet, heels barely clinging to the edge of the step he sat on. In his hands was a very pathetic-looking popsicle, the treat melting and dripping onto the hot concrete beneath him. The girl ahead of him held no hesitation in eating her own before a single drop could be wasted. She never was one for wasting food. While Konohamaru has settled for a plain, blue popsicle, she had paid a little extra for a rainbow-striped one. Colorful and bright, like her personality. You are what you eat, after all.
He could not see her face, but he was certain that she was gazing out at the ocean with a wistful expression. They had decided to go for a walk that day, but the sun was very unforgiving around these parts in the summer. The heat was terrible, so the girl bought them their popsicles from a vendor on the beach, and they plopped themselves down onto the stairs leading up to the street for some rest. School had let out for summer vacation just a week before, and though the two of them had talked about it for months, building it up as a some grand and exciting adventure, they had actually never planned a single thing. This happened every year, for as long as they had known each other.
Konohamaru was only ten-years-old when he met her. She was thirteen, his age now. He had moved in a few houses down from her, but they actually met at school. A joint school, he figured is what they called it. Little fifth graders running around in the same halls as the much-cooler middle schoolers. People picked on her. Called her a "spazz" and said she was God-awful annoying, but he never saw it. He looked up to her. She took it all in stride, didn't let the harsh words get to her, at least not too much. She would have a moment where a saddened look would flicker across her face, or when she would step onto the afternoon bus to go home with an angered expression. But you would have had to pay close attention to her to really notice.
Konohamaru paid attention, and when he finally got up the courage to speak to her one chilly autumn evening, she grinned.
A big, bright, tom-boyish grin that said everything anyone would ever need to know about her, if they just paid attention.
A year went by. Another chilly autumn, another harsh winter, another blistering summer. Konohamaru turned eleven. She had turned fourteen. He still couldn't tell anyone when he had fallen for her if they ever asked him, but he did. Not that anyone ever asked, but he figured he would probably tell them it was the moment he first saw that grin of hers. He was certain that that was when the emotions had been ignited, like a match scraping against the side of its box. It took a while, but the flame finally reached the tips of his fingers, and the burn was a realization.
So he confessed to her, at the bus stop in the afternoon. Where they first spoke.
And she turned him down.
The only way to describe the feeling he felt was by picturing glass shattering in slow-motion after someone carelessly threw a baseball through it. The pain felt afterwards was like getting scolded by the poor, old man that lived in the house you just wrecked. He gave it time. It was a bit awkward after that. She talked to him with a defensive attitude, acting as if she was treading water. Eventually, he asked her again, and she sighed.
Too old.
Too young.
Kid brother.
Best friends, don't wanna ruin that.
Too young, too young, too young.
Too young to understand love. Just a crush. Infatuation. Wait until another girl comes along.
Everything she could possibly think of to make him change his mind was thrown at his face. He persisted, and she grew agitated with him. She almost cried, it had looked like. Blue eyes glossed over as thin brows furrowed together in tight irritation. She gave a sharp sigh and turned from him, stepping onto the bus and sitting on a different seat entirely from his. It had hurt, felt strange. They always sat together on the bus.
He wanted to kick himself in the head that night. He had laid down on his bed, not caring for his homework, and when his mother poked her head into his room and held up the phone, he had blinked.
A girl called. Wanted to speak to him. His mother waved the phone lightly, and he had bolted over across the bed and grabbed the phone swiftly. His mother blinked and closed the door, and he spoke.
She wanted to give a shot.
Snapping, in his face. Konohamaru jerked his head up to look at the taller girl in front of him. She had reached back, arm outstretched as far as it could go without actually hitting the boy in the face. He blinked and made a confused sound, causing her to scowl softly.
"You were zonin' out again," she stated. He shivered, that light but slightly raspy voice making his stomach tie itself into a knot. He nodded lamely. She merely laughed and lowered her hand, pressing it flat against the step behind her for support as she leaned in closer to him. She grinned.
"I finished my popsicle. What was the joke on yours?"
"Joke," he repeated, then held up and looked at the wet stick of wood in his hand. His fingers were sticky and practically stained blue. The girl glared softly and huffed, snatching the stick from his fingers. "I paid for that! For you," she almost shouted, then flipped the stick over several times, trying to find the corny little joke printed on it. Konohamaru rubbed his neck sheepishly.
"Sorry," he said.
"It's fine, I guess. At least the ground got some enjoyment out of it," she mumbled and motioned to the blue puddle between Konohamaru's feet. He smiled.
She seemed unsatisfied with the joke, but held both sticks in her right hand. Slender arms reached up above her head as she stretched. "Should'a brought our bathing suits. I wanna go for a swim, now."
Konohamaru nodded in agreement. They both stood and he moved to stand beside her. He only came up to her chest, something that fueled his insecurity when it came to their relationship. She never really spoke about such things, but he wondered what kind of man she liked. Tall, muscular, dark, handsome, older, sophisticated? Everything he wasn't?
As if on cue, the blond-haired girl slid her palm against his and laced their fingers together, her hand only being a little larger than his own. Konohamaru couldn't help but smile a bit at that. He turned his head to look up at her, and she grinned.
"You owe me a popsicle," she said underneath a chuckle. He whined softly, protesting, but when the girl pinched the lobe of his ear and gave a sharp tug, he caved in and shouted his compliance. The blond teen grinned even bigger, looking somewhat smug, then bent down and kissed the corner of his lips. Konohamaru blushed heavily, enjoying how she lingered and even seemed hesitant to pull back. She did though, straightening herself and turning to make her way up the stairs, completely uncaring of the few odd looks they had just received. His hand still in hers, he followed slightly behind her.
Everything seemed to go quiet at that moment. He stared at the back of her head, watching the messy blond locks shift and shimmer under the sunlight. All he really heard was the waves of the ocean crawl over the sand and the distant calls of the gulls out at sea. She turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder and offered a soft, endearing smile. He countered with his own, a silent but mutual expression of fondness settling around them.
Naruko always seemed to be in a loop, forever caught in the summer of her life.