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Válgame: Save me

Dios: God

Hasta mañana: Till tomorrow

If there was a chance to get away, he probably would. Maybe it was because he was too stuck to even move from the rotton city. It was really simple, yet, he still wasn't able to, he couldn't, and the reason, he had no idea.

It wasn't that he hated it; no, it was just too boring, too boring for his liking. It was too calm, too plain, too uncomfortable-with nothing to do. And to top it off, the majority of the guys his age were formal, never liking to take risk and live for today. They preferred to stay home and study hour after hour for an upcoming test, or have friendly dates which usually consisted of them going to some café down the street and discussing the problems of society. Personally, he didn't need to discuss the "problems of society." He already what they were and he was living amongst them, amongst the robotic unreal human beings that they were.

He remembered that he was invited once. He would sit beside them and say nothing, mainly because he was being bored to death with all their superficial crap. He wasn't like that. He was the type to go out on a Friday night to some extravagant party with loud music pounding in his ears. He was the type to annoy the shit out of people and yet, still be friends with them. He was the type to crack jokes all the time, make people laugh, and commit some harmless childish pranks.

That's who Naruto Uzumaki was. A 23-year-old trying to live life to the fullest, which meant getting into trouble, not that he minded. And quite frankly, all those rich, formal people did not meet his criteria. It was no wonder he would stay home most days and watch some sappy movies, except on those rare occasions where he would drive out three hours away to the capital Madrid, and that's where he would really hit it off.

This whole place gave him a headache. There weren't even any interesting places to go out. And he'd prove it to himself by deciding to go for a lonely walk, although he had already proven it to himself many times. He could easily go, but... That's right, he was living in a decent-sized house for free thanks to his parents, who decided to go live in New York. New York. He wanted to go with them, anything to get away from here. He still does.

Naruto began dragging his steps, looking into every store. Nothing ever changed here. Válgame Dios, he thought. It was one of those times where he wished God did exist and would come save him from his misery. He was even ashamed to say he had no friends. No real friends, that is. And quite frankly, he could use some.

Naruto didn't even have to look to know what kind of business there were; to his right, there was a female hair salon, and to his left, there was an overly large Grill and Bar, to which should be ashamed and shunned for even daring calling it a bar. A bar did not mean "let's chat civilly and have no alcohol whatsoever because we are too good for that." If he could, he would write a book, criticising all the details of a certain neighbourhood: Konoha, the Life Killer. He'd become famous! Well, except here. He would even draw cute little pictures, like himself with chains around he and his house, symbolising being trapped. And the people of the community as all the same, with no faces visible, to show just how the lack of uniqueness and individuality within the community in the city. Because this community was, how Americans would put it, lifeless.

Not to mention, the weather sucked arse. It was mid summer, the beginning of August, and it was only 79 degrees Fahrenheit. Spain was not know for that. It was known for the blazing summers. And, more importantly, his bronze skin tone he would normally attain. Naruto smiled to himself, closing his eyes, imagining himself at a beach far, far away, in shorts, with no shirt, barefoot, and wearing sunglasses. His hair would turn to bleached blonde, his eyes would shine brighter than the cloudless blue sky, and his perfect white teeth would stand out. Yes, he could see it now. True paradise.

He continued to lazily walk, nodding his head to the beat of the music in his ears. Perhaps he would get a snack at Edu's Candy Shop. Yes, that sounded nice. He loved sweets. He came face to face with the door to the candy shop, till he noticed it wasn't it anymore. Where had it gone? Oh no, it closed down, his one and only happiness-gone. And now it was replaced by... He stepped back, trying to look up at the name of the new store. Ah... So it was S.A. Gallery, now. But, it if was, why the hell were the glass windows black onyx? The purpose of an art gallery was to draw people in by displaying fine works of art. How strange, he thought with an arching of his eyebrow. He had to admit though, it did peak his curiosity.

He took his headphones off, and decided to go in and explore the unexplored. It was dim inside, with only tiny lighting atop of each painting. Not to mention, the walls were red. It sure was weird, that much he knew. The place seemed vacant. Was anyone even here?

He kept walking in more, taking note of each painting. And that's when he saw it, from the corner of his eye; on the right corner, there was a man, who seemed to be sketching. His back was turned. Maybe he should say something... But what if he was some crazy sichopath who would take him hostage but no one would know because the windows were not see-through. He shook his head.

"Excuse me...?" he said a little too loudly. He gulped, realising the man had ceased his drawing. Uh-oh. He shouldn't have said anything.

The man slowly stood, his back still facing Naruto. He put his sketchbook aside, and achingly slowly turned around to face Naruto. Naruto gasped slightly. His expression was of a poker face. He was tall. Really tall. Perhaps a good 185 centimetres. His skin was pale like porcelain, his hair had a vague shreak of midnight blue, and his eyes of a deep endless abyss of darkness. His shirt was slightly open, his dress pants loosely belted. He was all in black. And the one thing that really stood out was... he was barefoot.

Naruto didn't know what to think. He was pleasantly creeped out, what a paradox. Despite everything, Naruto was able to produce one honest conclusion: whoever this man was, he was not a Spaniard. Maybe he was some sort of Asian... judging from his paleness.

He was beggining to get nervous now. The guy was just staring at him. Had he never seen a human being before? His lips were pressed in a firm line. God, just how much weirder could it get? He didn't know how much time had passed already, but he was certain a century had easily gone by now. And that's when it dawned on him: how would he communicate to this man if he didn't speak Spanish. He probably didn't even understand what he said, and that's why he isn't saying anything. He should probably say it in English... But his was horrible, his accent that was. To hell with it, we was gonna attempt to say it in English.

But his mouth remained open, for the other had already begun to speak. His voice was deep and smooth like silk. It was sensual, Naruto was a little jealous.

"My Spanish is very limited. I bought this place recently, I saw it as an opportunity to display my art."

Display? That was quite the contradiction.

"Spain happens to be the country of all roots of art. Were you looking to buy something?" he said, not taking his sight away from the Blond.

Naruto, feeling sheepish for not being able to be at the same level of English, decided to turn away and look at some painting to his left. It was interesting, he had to admit. It was a ragged doll, with one leg cut off. She was resting against a wall, with a picture frame of a man, and the stains of where another picture was meant to be. Perhaps that was supposed to be the mother. The loss of a mother.

"You the one leg? And the other missing? She lost a part of herself when her mother passed away." His voice rang through his ears like music. It was beyond relaxing. "It's on sale for €10,000."

Naruto choked. Was he crazy? No one would be willing to buy something for that much worth. "You must be delusional. That's too much money you're asking for, Princess." The Blond manoeuvred around the room, admiring every price of art with a critical eye.

The man's eye twitched slightly. Such boldness. A princess. He was not a princess.

"Fine art is never cheap. Where are you from?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Naruto turned to look at the man. "Here."

Most people from Spanish origin did not have striking blue eyes and blonde hair.

"And you know," the Blond continued, " you won't attract much with the atmosphere in this place. Yeah, Spain was known to be Gothic, but that's not the case anymore. And your black windows, it will just push people away."

The man was starting to get offended. "Then why are you here?" he asked, curious as to why, if no being would rather not come inside, he would.

"Because I had never seen this before. I got curious. I know this city like the back of my hand. And, this place sucks. It's possibly the worst location you could have chosen." Naruto walked over to the man. And closer. And closer. Till they were mere inches away from each other. He knew he was making the other uncomfortable, but he didn't give a damn. "Are you Asian?" he asked like it was nothing but casual.

The man recoiled a little. "Yes. I'm Japanese."

Naruto nodded at his correct assumption. "I thought so," he whispered, staring directly into the man's dark eyes. "I'm Naruto, the way."

"Sasuke."

"You know, Sasuke, you are quite beautiful."

The man widen his eyes. Such boldness and bluntness. Naruto came closer yet again. His nose barely touching Sasuke's. "I have an idea," he began. "How about a kiss in exchange for the painting? I don't have that much money, and I really like it." He beamed at the beautiful man, who had a look of confusion and shock.

"A kiss is not gonna cut it."

Naruto frowned. "Vale. How about multiple kisses until you find it a full payment? I will come in, everyday, and give you one. And one day, when you feel it's been enough, you finally give it to me." Naruto drew his attention to Sasuke's full pink lips. "First payment out of the many." And he leaned down connected his lips to the other. They were soft, warm.

Sasuke couldn't move. The Blond's lips were on his, slowly moving. Before he knew it, his hand was around his waist, Naruto's hand, and Sasuke found himself returning the kiss. It was a simple kiss, but it awoke foreign sensations in him.

And all to quickly it ended. Naruto grinned and pulled back, beggining to walk towards the door. "Well, Sasuke, I'll come back to keep paying off that painting."

Sasuke said nothing. He just stood there as the Blond started walking out. "Ciao," he heard him say.

He said nothing.

Naruto lit a cigarette as he made his way home with a smile on his face. Maybe this place was starting to get slightly interesting. And not to mention, he'd have a little present for when his mother came back. She was a sucker for paintings.

Hasta mañana... Sasuke, he thought to himself, releases a puff of smoke. Hasta mañana...