Author's Notes: Oh, wow, am I out of touch :3 Haven't written anything in...how many years? So long that I forget. My muses have failed me. Ah, well, what can ya do? Introspective piece (as most of my stuff is) to prove that Naruto ain't as stupid as he seems to be...Okay, so, he probably is, but a girl can dream, can't she? Besides, he's cute in his own little clueless, wrapped-up-in-his-own-world way.
Disclaimer: Characters and storyline of Naruto are not mine, 'cause if they were, I assure you Sasuke would be touching Naruto for reasons other than fighting ^_~
warnings: Well, no spoilers that I can recall...and consequently, no timeline either, but you can bear with it I'm sure. Despite, my innuendoes above, this fic is not yaoi, so rest assured, youngsters (and buck up, my fellow-yaoi fans). Just a little not-so-innocent thinking. Though if you're a die-hard yaoi fangirl like me, if you try really hard, I'm sure you can somehow find non-existent shounen-ai-hints lurking somewhere in there ^_~
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With Closed Eyes and an Open Mouth
by Silence
There was really something to be said, when eyes that he knew were capable of such warmth could look at him so coldly. Something could be said, too, when a voice could hold such fondness, even as it uttered the words, "Dead last." In fact, there was much to be said about most things in Naruto's life--but that didn't mean he would say them.
Especially not now, when his mouth was much too preoccupied with keeping his chocolate ice cream cone from dripping into his lap.
Naruto was not, despite popular belief, an optimist. While he constantly (and rather loudly) proclaimed his inevitable rise to Hokage and the subsequent acknowledgement of his existence by the villagers, deep down inside--he knew how hard, maybe impossible, it would be to achieve. Even with the slim chance of him becoming Hokage, he knew there was absolutely no chance of changing people's hearts—that choice was up to the villagers, and the villagers alone. Yet, it was not to be said, either, that he was a pessimist. Naruto had not survived his hate-filled childhood on dark thoughts and darker premonitions. Naruto, instead, preferred to think of himself as neither optimistic, nor pessimistic--just practical (though if asked, many would beg to differ), because really, why would anyone want to sit around talking about a glass of milk when they could have drank it already?
That was how he would go through life, Naruto had decided since his first bowl of ramen (courtesy of Iruka-sensei). Because whether he thought that the glass was full or empty, that his life was fortunate or not, he had long since learned that he could not change anything just by talking about it. So, no matter how much he spoke, and really, that was a lot, there would always be things that he just wouldn't say, if only because those futile words would be a waste of a breath he could have used on something infinitely more interesting--like how that cloud almost looked like an octopus and, boy, did he have the urge to eat takoyaki cakes right about now!
And that was how most people came to the conclusion that Naruto was not, by any far stretch of the word, observant—but that just wasn't true. Unfair, was the word on Naruto's mind as he gave the cold dessert a thoughtful lick. Unfair that just because he didn't feel the need to inform the others that, yes, he knew Hinata's affections for him ran far deeper than those for a fellow ninja, and, sure, he knew that behind the pages of that thrice-damned Icha Icha Paradise, behind the Leaf-engraved head protector, behind the supposedly "cool" hair-style of his teacher, sharp, battle-wearied eyes watched Naruto and his teammates, and would always watch them--even if (when) they surpassed Kakashi as ninjas themselves--because the deaths of his students just weren't allowed, even if they'd graduated already--unfair that so easily (and readily) he'd been labeled "inobservant." Was it really so necessary, so practical to tell the world that, of course, he knew that chasing after Sakura-chan would give him nothing but a good exercise? After all, was it not the chase that mattered, in the end? And if he came out of it with stronger legs, was that not a bonus? Did it actually matter any if, yeah, he knew that when seeking for acknowledgement of strength, Sasuke was not the person he should seek, that Sasuke was too caught up in his own problems and shortcomings and demons to deal with an attention-seeking teammate--even if he happened to be a respected rival? As a man (and a ninja, no less), shouldn't Naruto be able to take up such a challenge?
A large bite was taken this time, because most of his treat had disappeared down the cone, past his sticky fingers, and onto his orange-clad lap.
"Naruto, you slob! You're a mess! Can't you eat neatly like Sasuke-kun?"
Naruto blinked, his brain not having processed the unceremonious interruption to his train of thought. "Eh?"
"Can't you even eat ice cream right, dobe? We all know you're slow, but--"
Naruto pouted. Unfair! "Oi, oi! Sasuke, you ungrateful bastard! I'm sharing my swing and my teacher with you, the least you could do is thank me, but noooo--"
"Since your memory obviously doesn't extend that far, dobe, let me remind you that Iruka-sensei was our teacher, too."
He saw it, his teammates' concern at his uncharacteristic lapse into silence. Not everything needed to be spoken out loud to be understood. Besides…this was fine. This was comfortable.
"Maa, maa, Sasuke is right. Besides, I really don't mind buying all three of you ice cream. And Naruto, you should really finish that cone--both Sasuke and Sakura are done and you're getting it all over your clothes--"
"Unfair! You're all ganging up against me! Iruka-sensei, I thought I could trust you!"
"We can't help it if it's true. Anyway, this is a public swing, idiot. We have as much a right to be here as you do."
"Yeah, Sasuke-kun is right, Naruto (as always)! Don't act like you own Sensei or this swing. Don't you agree, Sasuke-kun?"
No, this was fine. Because behind his closed eyelids, he too watched them with sharp eyes. He no longer had his goggles to cloud his vision, after all.
But to say everything that should be said would be impossible, he decided. He would save his breath for only the most important things.
With this in mind, he opened his mouth.
And whined. "Sakura-chaaaan, why do you always have to side with that bastard Sasuke?? I'm so much cooler and right-er than he'll ever be!"
----
There it is, my drabble-turned-ficlet. Another side of our beloved Naruto, or just horribly OOC? You decide. ^_~
Disclaimer: Characters and storyline of Naruto are not mine, 'cause if they were, I assure you Sasuke would be touching Naruto for reasons other than fighting ^_~
warnings: Well, no spoilers that I can recall...and consequently, no timeline either, but you can bear with it I'm sure. Despite, my innuendoes above, this fic is not yaoi, so rest assured, youngsters (and buck up, my fellow-yaoi fans). Just a little not-so-innocent thinking. Though if you're a die-hard yaoi fangirl like me, if you try really hard, I'm sure you can somehow find non-existent shounen-ai-hints lurking somewhere in there ^_~
----
With Closed Eyes and an Open Mouth
by Silence
There was really something to be said, when eyes that he knew were capable of such warmth could look at him so coldly. Something could be said, too, when a voice could hold such fondness, even as it uttered the words, "Dead last." In fact, there was much to be said about most things in Naruto's life--but that didn't mean he would say them.
Especially not now, when his mouth was much too preoccupied with keeping his chocolate ice cream cone from dripping into his lap.
Naruto was not, despite popular belief, an optimist. While he constantly (and rather loudly) proclaimed his inevitable rise to Hokage and the subsequent acknowledgement of his existence by the villagers, deep down inside--he knew how hard, maybe impossible, it would be to achieve. Even with the slim chance of him becoming Hokage, he knew there was absolutely no chance of changing people's hearts—that choice was up to the villagers, and the villagers alone. Yet, it was not to be said, either, that he was a pessimist. Naruto had not survived his hate-filled childhood on dark thoughts and darker premonitions. Naruto, instead, preferred to think of himself as neither optimistic, nor pessimistic--just practical (though if asked, many would beg to differ), because really, why would anyone want to sit around talking about a glass of milk when they could have drank it already?
That was how he would go through life, Naruto had decided since his first bowl of ramen (courtesy of Iruka-sensei). Because whether he thought that the glass was full or empty, that his life was fortunate or not, he had long since learned that he could not change anything just by talking about it. So, no matter how much he spoke, and really, that was a lot, there would always be things that he just wouldn't say, if only because those futile words would be a waste of a breath he could have used on something infinitely more interesting--like how that cloud almost looked like an octopus and, boy, did he have the urge to eat takoyaki cakes right about now!
And that was how most people came to the conclusion that Naruto was not, by any far stretch of the word, observant—but that just wasn't true. Unfair, was the word on Naruto's mind as he gave the cold dessert a thoughtful lick. Unfair that just because he didn't feel the need to inform the others that, yes, he knew Hinata's affections for him ran far deeper than those for a fellow ninja, and, sure, he knew that behind the pages of that thrice-damned Icha Icha Paradise, behind the Leaf-engraved head protector, behind the supposedly "cool" hair-style of his teacher, sharp, battle-wearied eyes watched Naruto and his teammates, and would always watch them--even if (when) they surpassed Kakashi as ninjas themselves--because the deaths of his students just weren't allowed, even if they'd graduated already--unfair that so easily (and readily) he'd been labeled "inobservant." Was it really so necessary, so practical to tell the world that, of course, he knew that chasing after Sakura-chan would give him nothing but a good exercise? After all, was it not the chase that mattered, in the end? And if he came out of it with stronger legs, was that not a bonus? Did it actually matter any if, yeah, he knew that when seeking for acknowledgement of strength, Sasuke was not the person he should seek, that Sasuke was too caught up in his own problems and shortcomings and demons to deal with an attention-seeking teammate--even if he happened to be a respected rival? As a man (and a ninja, no less), shouldn't Naruto be able to take up such a challenge?
A large bite was taken this time, because most of his treat had disappeared down the cone, past his sticky fingers, and onto his orange-clad lap.
"Naruto, you slob! You're a mess! Can't you eat neatly like Sasuke-kun?"
Naruto blinked, his brain not having processed the unceremonious interruption to his train of thought. "Eh?"
"Can't you even eat ice cream right, dobe? We all know you're slow, but--"
Naruto pouted. Unfair! "Oi, oi! Sasuke, you ungrateful bastard! I'm sharing my swing and my teacher with you, the least you could do is thank me, but noooo--"
"Since your memory obviously doesn't extend that far, dobe, let me remind you that Iruka-sensei was our teacher, too."
He saw it, his teammates' concern at his uncharacteristic lapse into silence. Not everything needed to be spoken out loud to be understood. Besides…this was fine. This was comfortable.
"Maa, maa, Sasuke is right. Besides, I really don't mind buying all three of you ice cream. And Naruto, you should really finish that cone--both Sasuke and Sakura are done and you're getting it all over your clothes--"
"Unfair! You're all ganging up against me! Iruka-sensei, I thought I could trust you!"
"We can't help it if it's true. Anyway, this is a public swing, idiot. We have as much a right to be here as you do."
"Yeah, Sasuke-kun is right, Naruto (as always)! Don't act like you own Sensei or this swing. Don't you agree, Sasuke-kun?"
No, this was fine. Because behind his closed eyelids, he too watched them with sharp eyes. He no longer had his goggles to cloud his vision, after all.
But to say everything that should be said would be impossible, he decided. He would save his breath for only the most important things.
With this in mind, he opened his mouth.
And whined. "Sakura-chaaaan, why do you always have to side with that bastard Sasuke?? I'm so much cooler and right-er than he'll ever be!"
----
There it is, my drabble-turned-ficlet. Another side of our beloved Naruto, or just horribly OOC? You decide. ^_~