"A cup of ramen"
or
"Why I love ramen"
~
a Naruto fanfiction
by
mkh2
~
Insert standard disclaimer here – I certainly don't own Naruto, and until I can remember the name of the author I'm leaving this little blurb here. Blurb.
~
Normally I dabble in the Inuyasha and Dragonball Z realm but I love Naruto and his antics so here's a little tribute to Naruto-gumi! This is the second one-shot I've written, late night, right after the first I should've by now posted.
~
" " – indicates speech
' ' – indicates thought
~
I don't think there is a lonelier time in a kid's life than their first day of school to find that nobody likes you, nobody wants you and everybody, everybody, hates you. No one wants to be your friend, no one wants to sit with you, eat lunch with you, talk with you. Believe me, I know.
I never felt lonelier, at least not until graduation day (I flunked three times yet also passed on my third try… I guess it makes sense if you heard the whole story. Ha, it probably would've made more sense to not have tried taking the exams three years early, too!)
It was lunchtime, I think. I was starving! I thought my stomach was going to eat itself, it was growling so loud. I grabbed my lunch pail and opened it eagerly, hoping to find the yummy sandwiches I had so carefully packed, and also my juice box and an apple I scored from a kindly, generous vendor… only to find my pail filled with mud, glue, and a dead mouse. A dead mouse!
I managed to hold back my tears until I reached the swing – nobody went near it, I had noticed – and I sat on it and I cried. And cried and cried and cried.
I have no idea how long I kept crying, only noticed that my lungs started to ache and my heart was a hard lump in my throat and my head was pounding, when I had suddenly felt someone tapping my shoulder. Rubbing my eyes vigorously and wiping my face quickly I turned to see who was poking me.
Standing next to me was the prettiest child I had ever seen.
Now, don't get me wrong – the child really was pretty – but I wasn't sure if it was a boy or a girl. The shiny jet black hair was kind of longish, the eyelashes long, thick and curly, creamy pale skin, rosy cheeks and full pink lips, high cheekbones even evident though the baby fat, and the softest yet blackest onyx eyes I've ever seen. It really was a pretty child.
"I saw what happened… that wasn't fair," the child murmured, a soft alto, as if trying not to scare me off. Not sure what to say, and still with a hard lump in my throat, I gave a little nod to show that I was listening. "Um…" the child seemed to be at a loss for words, the already rosy cheeks flushing cherry, fumbling with something in the child's hands.
"Here."
Something hot was shoved at me and I caught it up in my hands, surprised. Blinking, I looked down to see a steaming cup of miso ramen, the strong scent filling my nose. In shock I lifted my head, unsure as to what exactly I should say. Thank you? Why? Want to share?
The child was gone.
I savored every bite of that ramen.
Since then I've had many cups of ramen, tried many different flavors of ramen, large bowls, small cups, medium pots. Sometimes others paid for my ramen – I usually paid for myself. Sometimes I make an extra cup of ramen and sit at the old swing, never eating it, just letting it warm my hands… waiting.
Because I love ramen so.
Because I'll never forget that cup of ramen.
Because I'll never forget that first kindness.
Because I'll never forget those kind eyes.
I'll keep eating ramen and maybe, one day, I'll treat the person with those eyes to a cup of ramen. Maybe.
~Fin~
Just to let you know, this is twelve-year-old Naruto thinking – he should know most of those words by now.
Can you guess who the "pretty child" was?
The graduation thing, you ask? Well, if everyone who graduated with him on his third try are around his age, doesn't it seem to suggest that he was taking the tests at an earlier age than any of the others? I know Sasuke and Sakura are supposed to be the same age as Naruto.
I sort of got this reaction from the other kids around me on my first day of school when I moved to my home (resident for almost 14 years!) and I was in first grade. Kids can be so cruel. I suppose it was a bit natural, arriving in the middle of the school year when everyone was already in their individual cliques, and most of them living close to each other and having gone to pre-school and kindergarten together. Unfortunately for me, only the guys warmed up to me, thereby completely ousting me from the girl groups and the worst of it was that I was with the same group of students for the next six years of my life.
