My Happy Ending
Kisoku no Yanagi
Pah, personally I prefer Naruhina, but who am I to stand in the way of my own inspiration? Inspired during a space-out session at school. Like the summary says, NaruAya, which, for you illiterate savages(kidding, kidding) means Naruto x Ayame, better known as the ramen girl.
Onward ho, you inferior slaves!
The first time she met him was when she was ten and he was six. He had stopped by the shop looking for food, and so she gave him a bowl. The next day, he came back with twenty ryou clutched tightly in his hands, and dropped it(clink, clink)on the counter, and left without a word. She didn't know his name.
The second time she met him was when he was eight, and she was twelve, her body telling her what it wanted. The blonde was just as cheerful and sunny as she remembered, if a bit more talkative. Good. He ordered a pork ramen with extra ramen, and she learned his name.
Naruto. She rolled the word around in her mouth, as if savoring its taste. An unusual name. Named after a fishcake.
After that, he started coming back day after day. Gradually, she learned that he was aspiring to be the Hokage, and he learned that her name was Ayame. Or Ayumi. One of the two. He never could fit names with faces.
One day, she overheard the young boy talking with his sensei, the Umino gentleman, and asking for his hitai-ate. The day after that, he arrived for breakfast with his own hitai-ate. She knew it was his, because there were the familiar scratches and dents and stains of Iruka's hitai-ate, but the sensei was walking around with a new one, and she knew her young knight had passed.
The next time they really talked was the day after he got back from training with the legendary shinobi, Jiraiya. Maybe he would be a densetsu himself. He couldn't stop going on and on about his new techniques and skill, and she would smile a sad little smile, as a little part of her wished they could go back to just talking about anything and everything, not just this. But a part of her is angry at that, and so she feigns interest for his sake.
The first time that he took her on a date was three years after the three years of his training. She was dozing(it was a slow business day), and he was scarfing down noodles as usual, and suddenly, he looked up and commented on how beautiful she looked that day. Later, they agreed to meet for a movie. He arrived three hours late, but with several roses. Roses didn't grow near Konoha, and none of the flower shops had them in stock.
Of course, then again, he also smelled like a three-day old steak after it's been eaten and come out the other end, so it evened out.
The second time he took her on a date was a mere two days after the first. He said that it had been fun, and that they should do it again sometime, and so they did. They went on a walk, and ended up dozing in each other's arms on top of the Hokage monument.
The first time he ever kissed her was on their thirteenth date. Thirteen wasn't unlucky for nothing, in his opinion(though he always said it also brought good luck), and when walking her home that night from the pub, he slipped, and pulled her down with him. Their lips met, and for a moment, the two of them stayed like that, shocked. Then they got up and walked away.
The next day, the boy(teen, man, stud)asked her if she enjoyed it. Answering truthfully, she said yes. And so the rest of the day was spent in blissful face-sucking. Ignorance is bliss, and their time wouldn't have been quite as blissful had they not been so oblivious to the people watching them.
And so, life continued like that for three more years. Three was always a good number.
He proposed to her on the fourth year that they had been going out. They were in the park, and he fumbled in his pocket for the ring, and his mind went on autopilot, and he ended up proposing to the village constable. But after a few good laughs, she accepted, and they were married. Their honeymoon needed no detailing.
It's been three years since then, and some things still never change. He still wears that horible shade of orange everywhere, and that rusty old hitai-ate was still his treasure, and he still always payed up promptly, and he still wasn't Hokage, but those things seemed oh so insignificant because they were married and they were happy. Of course, business was business, and as always, she still charged her husband for ramen.
"Damn! Two ryou short!"
Of course, some things never changed, as she lovingly patted his hand and upended the rest of the soup onto his face as he sighed and told her to put on his tab.
But it was still her happy ending.
First romancy fic...yay...A bit short, but oh well. I've never been able to write a long one.
Leila: Why could you not write a happy and sappy story about me and Matthew like that?
Because you are dead. And I might.
Kratos: Tomato soup is ready!
Leila: Why would you make a soup out of apples?
Kratos:...Tomatoes aren't apples.
Leila: They're both red.
Break it up or go mud wrestling, then I can sell the pictures. Anyways, criticism, as always, is appreciated. Go home now.
Kratos: FLLLLAAAAAAAAAMMMMEEEE!
...God, why me?