He hates the nasty tasting-salty broth. He hates the noodles, slimy in his mouth, like eating a garden snake. He hates the meat, floating in it, which makes is always tough and hard to chew.
He hates the vegetables floating in it, which are over-cooked and soaked in broth, squishy and gross in his mouth, as though he is attempting to swallow a bloated worm.
And yet here he sits, on a hard orange booth, by himself. His black eyes stare into the yellow wood of the table, the cold seat freezing through his dirty jumpsuit.
There's only one woman he'd eat ramen for.
He could stomach the foul stuff for her and her alone. Well, perhaps he would eat it for Gai-sensei. But only if he asked very nicely. But mostly, he would rather swallow it to please her.
He would do anything to please her.
A brushing movement before him breaks his concentrating gaze. Before him is a steaming bowl of the horrid, horrid food. He can feel Ichiraku's daughter staring into him with her amethyst eyes. He can imagine the pity and worry in them as she stares down at the genin, who has slowly taken his chopsticks in bandaged hands. The frown on his face, the downcast eyes. He focuses on the bowl before him.
The first bite of the beef flavor fills his mouth, so hot it burns his tongue. He doesn't care.
His focus is across the store.
Slumped over at the counter is her. She's laughing, her pink hair tossing over her shoulders as she shakes with the obvious mirth of the statement from her companion.
She's laughing. His heart is breaking, and she's laughing.
His eyes remain fixed on her as she leans into his face. Her cheeks are tinted pink from leaning over her bowl of noodles, and laughing, and perhaps nervousness.
Perhaps the most beautiful thing about her is her hair. Pink is so exotic, and it only makes her more fair in his opinion. He loves that hair. It's soft, it's texture like silk.
He knows.
A few times she's slapped her, when she whirled away from him, some of it caught in his mouth.
He moved fast, clamping his mouth lightly onto the strands, not enough to cause pain of course.
He'd closed his eyes and sucked vigorously on the strands, ripping the scent of her strawberry-scented hair into his nostrils. Savoring the quick taste of his beloved.
Sakura never noticed her hair was wet, or at least she never made any mention of it later.
Perhaps she felt that ignoring the annoying boy would drive him away.
It never did.
Or maybe it's her eyes. They remind him of the color he loves. But her eyes aren't green like Gai-sensei's suit, which smells of fresh dirt and carpet cleaner, Lee's idea of the smell of youth.
Her eyes are green, like soft summer grass on the warm days he loves so much.
Soft and gentle, warm and inviting.
Oh, how he wishes he could just lose himself in those eyes.
She's leaned over into his black hair, whispering into her companion's ear. A small smile alights the Uchiha's face, as his chopsticks move up to his mouth.
Lee doesn't sigh, or make any noise. The ramen beneath his face is becoming cold, so he begins eating. He doesn't taste it. He just looks at her.
She's moved back to her seat, her back turned to the sad young ninja. Her bowl is emptying fast, as is the Uchiha. Rock takes another bite. There's meat in this bowl. He chews it thoughtfully, and at the same time without really thinking. He swallows it, the nasty taste lingering in his throat.
Sakura pushes her bowl across the counter. The dark-haired nin beside her looks at her.
They exchange words.
He pushes money across the counter as Sakura blushes.
When she blushes, it's as pink as a Sakura blossom, floating gently to the ground.
Lee loves those flowers. So delicate, beautifully weak-appearing, and yet hardy enough to survive weeks in his pants-pockets.
He rubs the delicate petals on his face every so often, just to remember his Sakura-flower, and the dreams he holds. His dream of his Sakura-Chan.
He's always held the hope that maybe, someday, Sakura could love him the way he loves her.
Maybe, she could look past his Moe Howard haircut, his green suit, his live-or-die attitude, his obsessions, his affections, his feelings. Maybe, she could look past the eyebrows that consume his face, past the eyelashes that tease his face, and see the real reason he swore to protect her with his very life.
He loves her.
No, he doesn't love her as a schoolboy crush. He loves her for real, in a way not many will ever experience in their lives. He loves her. Truly.
Passionately.
He's not like Sasuke. He's not like Naruto.
He's like Rock Lee. He's not the handsomest, he's not the smartest, he's not the most romantic, and he's not the smoothest.
He's just a boy with love in his heart and dreams in his head.
Lee's been looking at his bowl. He looks up to the place where his love stood.
It's empty. They've left.
For a moment, panic seizes his heart, and he looks around hurriedly in search of her.
He spots her going out the door with the Uchiha. He holds the door open for her. Lee tries not to notice the look on Sasuke's face. Lee may be a fool at times, but he is no innocent.
His heart tells him to leap up, and save her. But his feet stay grounded to the floor, his seat in the booth.
Sakura walks out the door, blushing and chattering to the Uchiha, who remains silent, smiling smugly.
They walk around, past the windows inside the store, Lee's eyes following them, noodles halfway in his mouth. They walk past them, him, as though oblivious to his very existence.
Suddenly, on the window a few booths away, Sasuke stops walking. Sakura pauses, and obviously asks him what has caused his ceasing of walking. Lee's heart stops beating for a moment. It's as though all time stops as he waits.
His heart crashes into his shoes.
Sasuke has the girl pinned against the wall of the alley, their lips conjoined.
Lee's mouth opens as he watches them. The noodles fall from his chopsticks into the now-cold soup.
He cringes inside as Sasuke's hand stray down Sakura's body, her shapely figure, Sakura's hands straying behind Sasuke's neck, fingering the ringlets of black hair.
His mouth clamps shut. Lee's black eyes follow as Sasuke's hands plunge down into Sakura's skirt.
His lower lip trembles. Sakura's shirt falls from her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her arms and chest.
Sasuke's hands grope into the newly-revealed breasts of the girl, her arms spreading across Sasuke's neck in their passionate embrace.
He can hear Sakura moaning as Sasuke's hand stray to forbidden areas of her anatomy.
Lee jumps to his feet, and runs across the store. His hands push the door open.
But he stops himself.
Slowly, as though out of his body, Lee drifts back to his seat. The orange plastic is still warm from where he sat, but he can barely feel it. He can barely feel anything.
He looks back into the alley. They've disappeared.
But Sakura's sighs and moans of passion can be heard from beneath the windows, on the ground waning in intensity from the obvious sexual assault being committed outside.
The gods were merciful. He didn't have to watch his love leave him behind.
Lee wanted to save her.
But he wouldn't.
Lee wanted to make Sakura happy. That's all he ever wanted. And if that means giving her up to another man, that is what he'll do.
He loves her so much, he would make this, this ultimate sacrifice for her. He wants her to be happy.
Even if it's not with him.
He gazes down into the bowl beneath him. His reflection stares the same blank stare up to him.
His reflection shatters as a tear falls into the bowl.
And at that same time, his heart shatters.
He doesn't bother to pick up the pieces. He just picks up his chopsticks and begins eating again.
Sakura gives a small shriek, confirming Lee's worst fear.
He wrenches his eyes shut as the groans continue. The moans that seem to break his heart with every vile, vile noise that comes from outside that window.
He shovels the freezing noodles into his mouth, trying to block out the noises.
The noodles flavored with sadness, and the salt of his tears as they pour from his eyes and into the bowl, shattering his reflection over and over again.
His throat burns with the sobs he wants to cry to the heavens, the hands he wants to use to yank Sasuke from his Sakura's body stuffing his tear-stained cheeks with the most disgusting substance on earth, as though it can fill the rapidly-emptying hole in his heart.
Rock Lee hates to eat ramen.
He also hates to cry.
But he'll do both.