AN: the Naruto currency is gonna be in USD conversion.
Runner's High
Chapter Seven, And in this corner, it's The Homewrecker!
.
.
.
It's way worse than when she was ignoring him, because at least he still got to see her.
He wakes up. He comes here. And he expects to see her.
But she's not here.
He runs anyway. With a heavy heart, he runs anyway.
And she doesn't show up late, which would at least be something. Just the sight of her, just the ability to say 'hi', ask how she's been, say he's sorry, ask how he can make it up to her even though he doesn't understand what he did wrong.
He's not asking her to leave her husband. Maybe later? He doesn't know. All he knows is he's absolutely crazy for her and he wants to just be a part of her life! That's it!
She's a good wife. He gets that.
But he's not a good husband. And she doesn't get that.
Naruto thinks about the old picture he received of the two of them as teenagers. She showed him that as proof, her proof. She's hanging onto something that existed two decades ago and… wait… She's thirty-six. She married out of high school? Is that what she wants him to take away from that? Nothing can get between her and her first love?
He's stared at the photo several times a night since he last talked to her because it was all he had to look at. He regrets not taking a picture of her naked form resting atop the sheets. He's stared at her younger self with her long, pin-straight hair and her joyously glowing eyes, so innocent and sweet. He's stared at her intoxicating combination of full curves and petite frame hidden beneath all of those ridiculous frills and ribbons, and he's stared at her man and how she holds him in that picture, like he's her prize and not the other way around.
He was an above standard pretty boy. He looked delicate and pompous, and that's about it.
The girl she was back then; what did she see in her future husband? What made them get married in the first place? And why was she so fucking stubborn about holding on?
He just gets done with his run and he's coated in sweat. He ran just a little bit more than he ought've because unpleasant feelings had been chasing him.
He grabs his bag from the locker and pulls out his phone.
Naruto: hey
Naruto: park feels weird w/o u
Naruto: hope ur still getting ur steps in
Naruto: in case ur wondering im still sexy as ever
Naruto: so no need to bother u with a selfie rite?
The date of their last exchange still doesn't sit right with him. It's been five days.
Nothing happened, right?
Naruto: u kno theres an app that makes pics disappear after a few secs
Naruto: its totally perfect for us
Naruto: if u want discretion i can be discreet
Naruto: hey otsutsuki-san just give me a sign i didnt get u murdered becuz im secretly freakin out rn :((((((
He expected something blunt and a little sassy coming from her. He imagined her replies in her voice, but none of them came. More and more he was replacing her with his imagination.
And more and more he was starting to feel like she never even existed in the first place.
When he gets back to his dorm, he's looking at her photo again. What's funny is, he realizes, he probably never would've gone for someone like her back then.
Cosplayers weren't his scene. They were all guaranteed weirdos. And he's had the displeasure of stumbling across Cosplay Porn, which really solidified the kind of desperate air that clung to geeks like them.
But maybe they would've had a secret relationship if he'd experienced that same inexplicable spark of attraction, but it'd be the other way around. He'd pretend he wasn't seeing her in a romantic capacity until she grew out of it or something. It's not his MO to be scummy like that, he tells himself, but then he also comes to think of how exceptional she is; that he would go against his virtues and become his worst self just to be with her.
He powers off his screen and rests his phone atop his chest, brows crinkling as he held in heated breath.
She's probably not dead. He hopes.
In which case, she's doing a damn good job ghosting him right now and his skin grows jittery with impatience and indignance.
Maybe his worst self is what he needs to be right now.
There are only a few wards in the metropolitan area that serve the upper class and their shopping needs. He compiles a list of upscale department stores from the few closest to the park. One of them is going to be her work.
When he arrives, he doesn't fit in at all. His tracksuit is a little on the bright side and in every store, he's the youngest person there.
The saleswomen eye him with bemusement and a small bit of concern, like they have no idea how to approach him.
He doesn't look like he's here to find a gift or request a fitting for an interview. Partly because he doesn't look like he could afford it. But mainly because his searching gaze and craning head inform them that he's looking for someone specific. (And maybe they need to call the police on his creepy ass).
He's wandered through nine separate shoe sections for the past three days, turning down anyone who wasn't Hinata-san, making sure he wasn't coming in during a meal break.
This is now his tenth store and his fourth day. He's been shunning his friend group and distracting himself from his worsening temper with his studies. He likes to think he can help Hinata-san in the future if she still wants to do something in the hotel hospitality sector. He'll give her whatever position she wants. Well, that will depend on if she's left her husband by then. Would it be nepotism to just give her any position without looking at her credentials? What's nepotism for the type of relationship they'll have?
He picks up a jacket on display opposite of the shoe department and he nearly drops it.
Her incredible figure is fitted inside a dark gray calf-length pencil skirt with a back slit stopping behind her knees. Her matching blazer flares out at her waist, and she looks prim in her ruffled-collar blouse. His eyes drop to her exposed neck, appreciating how she looks when she pins her hair back in a simple metal clip.
He puts the jacket back on the rung and approaches her, blood quickening with every step.
"Ma'am," he calls, barely feigning his irritation.
Seeing her jump with a start, hand pressed to her heart gives him small satisfaction, and when she sees that it's him, she freezes.
He takes advantage of this and closes the distance. He's almost looming over her as he props his elbow on the display rack. "Hey, I need help picking out shoes for my girl. Think you can help me?"
Her wide eyes narrow as she frowns at him coldly. "Your 'girlfriend'."
Oh-ho? Did that make her jealous?
"Nah, just my girl," he shrugs. "Different connotations."
"Mmm. How so?" Her suspicious displeasure turns dubious as she shifts her weight to one foot, and his eyes follow the curve of her hip.
"Because I can't ask her out, but that don't mean she ain't mine," he grins widely at her reddened, galled expression. He grins wider when her voice shakes.
"Sh-Shoes. F-For your 'girl'."
"Mm-hm. Can you help?"
She takes a steadying breath and straightens her back, directing her attention to the shoes on the racks. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion. I just want to surprise her."
"Do you happen to know what she likes?"
Crap. She got him. He's only ever seen her running shoes, and she always wore the same pair.
His eyes dropped to her feet, which are snugly secure inside some pretty plain pumps. Well, that doesn't help him at all! Her old self liked girly, over-the-top things, so was she still about that or no? Maybe he shouldn't rely on her old taste. It was just one picture, anyway.
"Uhh… What do you recommend?"
She mutters to herself, "You're the worst type of customer," then speaking normally, "I hope you know her size."
"Actually, now that I look at you, I'd say you two are about the exact same size."
Her dubious glance is adorable. "Let's find her some shoes, shall we?"
He imagines that she's shopping for herself while she humors him, and his heart grins at the thought of doing this for real some time.
I'll buy you whatever you want, Hinata-san.
She narrows it down to three shoes, one for a different occasion.
"What do you think?"
Naruto eyes the white leather pumps with the pastel marbled pattern. He can't tell if it's supposed to resemble polished stone or clouds, but they're very dreamy. He can picture her wearing these in nothing but a sheer, floor-length linen dress, and now he wants them for that reason alone. Then there's the pale mauve ankle boots and some kind of black mesh sandal with a tiny heel and an ankle strap. She'd look great in them all.
An evil thought forms in his mind.
"Sorry, but could you model them for me? It'd help give me a better idea."
She's completely silent. She's staring at him blankly and he offers her an earnest plea with both hands clasped together.
She pouts as she takes a seat on the customer bench and slips off her pumps. She gathers one of those teensy pantyhose around her feet and slips into the first pair. Her face is terribly red as she raises up and stands before him, eyes averted.
Naruto cups his mouth, feigning intense deliberation, when really he was just taking her all in. "Can you walk around a bit?"
Her nose crinkles in distaste but she does as the customer asks her, and his heart pounds with a sense of masculine authority.
His eyes follow the sway of her hips, the lines of her legs, the way the slit in her skirt teases him.
When she returns, he asks, "Why do you recommend these?"
She averts her gaze again, her right hand toying with the crease of her sleeve. "They're classy and simple, but not boring. They're suitable for any occasion and go well with any outfit."
"Mm-hm," he swore he was going to hear what kind of date she'd wear them on, and is disappointed that he didn't. "What about the boots?"
She tries on the boots. With her pencil skirt, they look a little odd, not that he understands why. She models them down the aisle and returns. He asks her why she recommends them.
"They're a good color. Ankle boots are also both understated yet trendy."
'Understated yet trendy'. He keeps these particular words in mind for future reference.
"Next one."
The moment she's wearing the dainty, black sandals he knows he likes them on her.
"Date shoes?" he blurts out. He really fucking wants to know her tastes on a date!
"I was thinking more of a black-tie event. Do you need help shopping for a tuxedo by chance? The girl upstairs is very good," she replies wryly, a touch of meanness and derision in her eyes.
Naruto grinned at her sarcastically, seeing how she was poking fun at his inability to take her to such opulent places.
"Walk around for me."
With the shake of her head, she does, and he wonders how she'd look in a tiny black dress. He sees her at an outdoor garden party surrounded by glamour, with him at her side, his hand on the small of her back, occasionally brushing his fingers against the tiny zipper, conveying his dirty thoughts to her with the most innocuous gestures.
After their fill of pomp and wine, he'd find an empty, darkened room where he'd pull her onto his lap and map out her curves with his roaming hands, kissing her full lips, marking himself in her lipstick. He hardens at the thought of her flushed face, mascara tears, and smudged red lips. It's even more exquisite when her face contorts and relaxes with every moan as she bounces on his cock, her tiny black dress hiked up to reveal the full expanse of her thick, creamy thighs.
When she walks back, he knows he loves these shoes.
"Perfect," he breathes as he looks her straight in the eyes. "I'll take them."
She looks at him uneasily. "Alright. I'll pack these up for you."
"No, I'm not done yet."
She stiffens, and suddenly she's looking at him like he's a criminal. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I want to look at more shoes for my girl," he smirks at her menacingly. "Truth is, I haven't seen her in over a week and I thought this would get her to talk to me again."
She deadpans, seemingly unimpressed. "Did you two have a fight?"
"I'm not sure," he smiles at her, half parts hopeful and restless and he'd love for this awkwardness to blow over if she'd fucking let it. "I just want her to be happy, but I guess she doesn't think I can make her happy."
Her gaze drops to the floor in a guilty way, before a fire revitalizes itself, and her demeanor straightens once more. But even though she's resisting him, her eyes don't look nearly as cold as earlier. "I think you need to start believing her."
His heart drops a little, like she's just snipped his third heartstring out of the dozens. "And why's that?"
"Because she's doing you a favor. The onus falls on you now if you choose to keep pursuing a dead end."
The sound he makes, it's a scoffing laugh as he squints her, as if whatever she just said has no bearing on their situation. "Well… I don't see dead ends."
She turns her back to him as she messes with the shoe display. They're already perfectly organized, so anything else is just a distraction.
She finally replies in a small voice. "I'm sure she finds that quality frightening."
His fingers curl into a fist as ache after ache washes over him.
He swallows the knot in his throat, his confidence shaky at best when he replies. "I'm not trying to scare her. I just suck at holding back."
She's silent. That's her reply.
Watching her work, he thought about the first pair. She seemed like she was someone who enjoyed versatility in her wardrobe. He told her he'd take them and said 'never mind' about looking at more shoes. He didn't want to hold up her time and he thanked her with a deep bow.
He drummed his fingers along the counter as the cashier rang him up.
"Your total is one-thousand-nineteen-nineteen-and-fifty-two ryo."
Naruto looked at the cashier. Then he looked at the digital display.
r1,919.52
He looked at the shoes. At the cashier. At the price display. Back at the shoes. At the cashier. The shoes. The cashier.
Then he looked past the checkout counter, past the make-up displays, where beyond that was Hinata-san's shoe department.
And she was watching him.
"Sir?"
He got so engrossed in shopping with her, in his stupid daydreams, in his intolerable insecurities that he never thought about not being able to afford these.
She knows him.
He's a Uni student.
He doesn't even work, at least not yet.
She could've picked a little cheaper, couldn't she?
No. She did this on purpose.
Of course, she did.
She wasn't actually happy to model for him, let alone be hit on by him.
She wanted to send him a message.
He bets her husband can buy these for her the way he buys a box of donuts.
Naruto smirked bitterly as he took out his credit card and he purchased the shoes.
And he did it without breaking eye contact.
He's going to be fucked for the next month.
But it's her who's going to be fucked by the end of the night. Like the world's most sought-after Escort. He's going to fuck her hard.