Author's note: this is a rewrite.

Chapter 1: A cup of ramen

I was born in a windy day of October. It was such an eventful day.

I came earlier than expected. My mother's water broke when she was watering her tomatoes in our back garden. My father carried her to the hospital in a cart. Between throbbing pains, she was wondering how our tomatoes would be like. "Minato, I don't want to taste our son's 9-month-bath" she cried. The unfortunate event continued as a crow followed us into the operation room. No one really knew how it got inside. And coincidentally, our doctor had ornithophobia, an extreme fear of birds. She almost froze at the first sight of that black crow. My father struggled to shoo the bird away. He was drenched with sweat, running around my screaming mother and our stiffened doctor. It was, indeed, chaotic. For months after my birth, that crow consistently came back for a revenge. Whenever my father did laundry, it stole his socks. But it never took the whole pair, only one of each pair. My father finally gave up and wore mismatched socks for the whole year. That accidentally became his signature fashion style.

I was named Naruto, as in narutomaki, a ridged fish cake with an iconic pink swirl, often served in ramen. My mother said it was cute (like me), made almost everybody happy. And the swirl was a symbol of my father's running that gave him a headache that day. My fierce red haired mother had some kind of superpower to find humor aspect in every ridiculous situation. At least, she found it funny. I hoped I inherited that trait. My appearance took after my father, blue eyes and messy blond hair.

Currently, I was a first year student at Konoha Art college, photography major. I lived with my uncle - Mr. Jiraiya, and worked part time at his adult store called Come paradise. He was a famous erotic novelist. He was also a true gentleman though he had raucous laughter like the punch of a giant in your face. He once told me: "There are four pleasures of life, eat, sleep, shit (in time) and sex." I would add Art as the fifth.

On Monday afternoon, the store was less crowded, almost empty. I was day dreaming when a familiar voice woke me. "Hey, come back to Earth!", I looked up to meet Shikamaru's lazy eyes. "My mother sent me too many pearls," he put a heavy canvas tote bag on the counter. The elegant sweet aromatic of pearls faintly lingered on my nose. I grabbed one and breathed in. I love the scent of autumn! And its various shades of green, yellow and brown. "Great! Thanks a lot."

"By the way, you should check on your genius," He said with his trademark monotonous voice.

"My genius?"

"Uchiha Sasuke," he rolled his eyes as if I just asked him an unnecessary question.

"Why using your?" I couldn't catch his idea. Gosh-darn, Shikamaru and his one-sentence-at-a-time way of talking.

"Do you have problem with possessive pronouns? Isn't he your friend and a genius?" Saying two sentences continuously seemed to make Shikamaru tired already. His explanation sounded logical but still so odd to me. "I thought you would be more concerned about why you should check on him. He missed the lecture today. It was rare." Now he looked totally drained.

"Oh, maybe he is sick. I'll drop by after my shift."

"Okay. I am going. Bye," And just like that, Shikamaru was gone in a blink before I could ask him any more question. The three of us had known each other since middle school. We also entered the same high school. Except for me, Sasuke and Shikamaru were basically geniuses. They both went to the best technology college in the country. But they were different types of genius, I guessed. Sasuke studied hard all the time. He could learn anything and be the best at it. Shikamaru, on the contrary, didn't appear to pay any attention in class. He was an effortless genius. Sasuke often ranked first and Shikamaru followed right behind. Sometimes, I thought he did it on purpose, not that Sasuke wasn't as smart. Shikamaru hated being in the spotlight, no matter what it was. But there was one time, the second year of high school, Shikamaru was on top. It was a minor shock to him. "There must be something wrong with Uchiha," he told me at that time, "but I am not close to him nor interested enough to find out what." I tried to asked Sasuke but he never said anything. That was also when he started to distant himself from me. We used to be much more closer than we were now.

[Are you feeling well? Shikamaru told me you skipped class today] I texted Sasuke.

[I'm fine. Just a common cold.] His reply came in a split second.

[Can I come by? Do you need anything?] He lived by himself. He had an older brother but he was working abroad. Even though he was a composed person, always tried to do everything himself, it must be hard to be sick alone.

[No. I don't want another instant ramen cup]

I chuckled reading his text. At 6th grade, there was one time Sasuke fell sick and couldn't go to school. I brought him a cup of instant ramen, my most favorite brand. It always made me instantly feel better. But he didn't think the same. "I hate ramen," he bluntly told me, "who would bring a sick person instant ramen?" That was the first time he called me usuratonkachi, also the start of our friendship.

[Just 5 minutes to make sure you're ok, then I'll leave.]

I waited for a couple of minutes. Three little dots on screen appeared then disappeared a few times.

[Please]

[Pretty please]

[Sincerely please]

[Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee]

[How many times did I tell you not to text spamming me?! Usuratonkachi. OKAY! Don't blame me later if you catch my cold.]

Sasuke's apartment was 20 minutes walking from my store. It was a 1K, meaning one room in addition to a separate kitchen. It was small but tidy and clean. Sasuke kept everything to a minimum. He had one set of futon, one small table, one chair, one bookshelf, one tiny rice cooker, one sauté pan, one bowl, one dish, one pair of chopstick, one cup. Everything in his room was white or navy in order to save time and mental capacity to make decisions. When I came, his room was less tidier than usual. The last time I had been here was half a year ago. There were boxes of delivered food, unwashed dishes in the sink, used tissues everywhere. He was in a plain navy sweatsuit. His nose was red and his eyes was swelling. His pale skin was even paler. "I'm fine, see!" He appeared not to be unaware of how terrible he looked. "You can leave."

"Okay, okay, at least let me help you clean the room a bit." I knew how strict Sasuke was about hygiene. He was a clean freak. To be in this condition, he must be exhausted. He looked away but gave me a small nod. "Did you take cold medicine?" He gave me another nod.

I was cleaning in silence while he lie in his futon watching me. I didn't want to make him more tired than he already was. Although none of us said anything, a serene atmosphere filled this small room. I knew my being here soothed him somehow. "Hey, you hypocrite! You scolded me for lacking common sense. Now you're eating instant ramen while being sick, huh?" I smirked, taking it up and saw a note on the cup. It was my cup of noddles which I gave him years ago. I wrote a note asking him to be my friend - "can we be friends?" with two choices "yes" and "hell yes". He told me he only agreed because I literally gave him no choice.

"Get lost!" He shouted with his hoarse voice. Did he… blush?

"Why did you keep this? It expired long time ago." It was 8 years too late to eat my sincerity.

"I forgot to throw it away." He mumbled.

"Sureeee," I said knowingly, "I'll throw it away with the garbage." You liar, you're a genius who forgets nothing.

"DON'T. I'll do it myself." He snapped. Why don't you just admit that you hold our memory dearly?

"Don't be shy. I know you adore me." I couldn't help teasing him a bit. How rare it was to have a chance to tickle the high and mighty Sasuke. He looks kind of… cute being embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. Wait, what am I thinking? "Just tell me you love me," I grinned like an idiot.

"Geez, whatever." He pulled the blanket over his head, covering his whole body like a cocoon. Then he absolutely shut down, no matter what I said he didn't reply. I thought he was mad for real. I pushed it too far. I was over the moon when I found out that he kept something remind of our friendship, how close we used to be. But a gift from the past might be a scar of old wound, nothing more. We were best friends until we weren't. Whatever made us falling apart, he must have his reasons. And I determined to figure it out.