Bit by bit, Kimiko's shawl slid down her pale shoulders, stopping just short at the hard ledge of her nipples. She swallowed audibly and open her trembling legs beneath the lengths of her skirt.

Open, opens, opened.

She swallowed audibly and opened her trembling legs beneath the lengths of her skirt.

"I know I'm too young, and I know you said you only go for mature ladies," she whispered guiltily. "But when I saw you with that woman, doing that thing , it made me feel something."

" What is it, Kimiko?" Tomoshi ask quietly.

Ask, asks, asked.

" What is it, Kimiko?" Tomoshi asked quietly.

She put her hand on top of his and slowly led it down to her crotch. When he made no move in response, she began to push his digits into the skirt's colorful fabric until he was ever-so-slightly pressed against the flesh beneath. Her toung peaked out—

This must be the fifth time he's misspelled… that word. Where's the dictionary? Ah, okay, um, tongue. Right. That's the fifth time he's misspelled the word "tongue". Also, wrong peak.

Her tongue peeked out to lick her lips.

" It made it hurt, right here," she moaned, pushing his fingers harder into her skirt. "I just can't st-stand it, Mister Tomoshi. I don't know what to do."

"Kimiko," he sighed. "You should no better than to ask for—wait, wait, wait.

"No better?" Seriously? Why is it that the most fucked-up scenes have the most typos? Oh, don't tell me the crusty shit at the top of the page is a jizz stain. What the fuck, Pervy Sage? She's eleven years old! Why do underage girls get you off?

Do, does, did.

…I need to get out of the house. The weather, it's…

Fine, actually. Great. Nice and warm. Perfect for a walk. Let's go walking. Come on.

I open the window and jump down to the street below, and okay, it's actually pretty cold. Should I go back to get a coat? Should I…

Nah, what kind of pansy-ass have I become? Just listen to this—all those crickets and toads chirping away in the night air. They're fine, and they don't have any coats. I'll be just fine without one, too.

Footsteps, now, four pairs of them, coming up behind me. Who's—?

Whoa, whoa, careful—some kids dart past me while I schlep along the path. They're pretty young to be out this late at night, aren't they? It's past midnight, right? The streetlights are lit up at the very least, and it's pretty hard to see anything, what with the way they keep flickering. Do these guys know how crummy the sidewalk is, here—how it's uneven at some parts, with raised cracks and sudden patches of gravel? They're gonna trip and break their noses if they keep running like that.

"Hey," I call out to them. "You guys better be careful. Hey!"

They keep running. Running, running. Maybe they're having a race. Maybe I'm just being super lame. Naruto the Killjoy, that's what they'll call me. Ruiner of everybody's fun.

Better than what I usually get, I suppose. That'd be a good thing, actually, if that's the reason everyone wants to ditch me. I should be thankful, huh? Thankful that they took the time to get to know me before wanting to leave whenever I walk in the room.

Fucking litter on the ground. I kick a bottle across the street, and it barrels over a few trashcans before burying itself in the side of a dumpster. I kicked it too hard, I guess.

…Come on, Naruto. Quit with all this self-pity bullshit. What good will it do, feeling sorry for yourself? What could it possibly change? Nothing, that's what. So just… look around. The buildings. A mailbox.

If I squint hard enough, I can pinpoint the outline of Bushy Brow's apartment complex farther down the road. He's definitely asleep by now, knowing him. Maybe I should wake up early tomorrow to join him on his 04:30 workout extravaganza ("workout" meaning to fucking murder your muscles). Let's do squats till sunrise, my youthful comrade! Last one to 20,000 is a rotten egg!

I wonder who might still be awake right now; none of my friends are the kind of people who stay up this late. Me neither, actually. But I really…

Couldn't sleep? Didn't want to sleep?

Something like that.

Maybe I'd feel better if I had an actual place to go. Ichiraku's closed, though, as well as that little dango shop that always gives me and Sakura the best seats. My friends are all asleep. And at the Hokage Office, the old lady—

Did you let him go, Granny?

So many nighttime sounds, aren't there? I think these guys are called spring peepers. I held one in my hand, a long time ago. He tried to pee on me, but I dropped him before I touched any.

Don't stay depressed forever.

I'm sorry that I picked him up; I know it must've been scary. To a little toad, I must be fucking terrifying. He thought I wanted to hurt him.

Because Lord Jiraiya himself, one of the Legendary Sannin, acknowledged you as his promising student!

But I had just wanted to be friends with him. To learn how slimy his skin would feel. I didn't care about getting warts. I didn't care about messing up my hands. I just wanted to bridge the gap.

He loved you very much, Naruto.

Do spring peepers count as frogs, or are they toads? Frogs… or toads…

He was prouder of you than anything else in the world.

I should know this. Why don't I know this?

So proud.

He would've known the answer.