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Summary: A certain blue eyed blond always did have a soft spot for underdogs. Het
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Orange and Lemons
Swish…
Swish…
Swish…
Higher…Higher…He swung himself, kicking the ground harder and harder as his eyes remain glued to the sky. Up, down, up, down, he wonders if he unclasped his hold at the ropes to reach up to the large expanse of blue above, would he fly? Maybe if he swings high enough he could reach one of the clouds and stay there.
Of course not you silly boy. What are you thinking?
Swish…
Swish…
Swish…
His feet pushed harder at the ground and let himself just feel the wind go past him. Up, down, up down, the world shifting and turning and yet he can't seem to find himself to care. Yeah, he doesn't care; he's content, still…Naruto can't stop wishing himself to fly away.
His stomach grumbled, he absently put his hand over his stomach pressing hard as if to stop the growling as he remained his head bowed low as he continued to walk the street. His eyes partly lidded yet aware. He could hear the whispers, feel the stares digging deep coming from left, right, back and center and he felt his trembling hand clench a bit more tightly at his skin yet he did nothing and just continued putting one foot in front of the other.
He tuned them out, imagined their forms to be nothing but grey scribbles. Unreal, insignificant, non existent, just scribbles like his scribbles at his papers.
He hates them.
Hatethemhatethemhatethemhatethem.
And yet...he wants to know. Why…?
Why are they always angry at him? Is he bad?
Don't hate me. Don't hate me. Don't hate me. I promise I don't mean whatever I said or did just please don't hate me.
His eyes partially widened when a sudden flash of bright color rolled down towards his dirty sandaled feet.
The hand that was clutching his shirt just above his stomach moved as he bends down to pick the thing that rolled towards him.
It's an orange.
He was entranced and strangely fascinated at the color. In less than a millisecond it had captured his attention. Naruto almost never raised his head up, most often looking at the ground. His stomach grumbled out loud, the bright colored fruit sitting on his hands is cold and at the rarest moment he looked up to meet startled blue and a shock of yellow.
A child, a girl.
His sight zeroed in however at paper bag held against her chest where many more round oranges are showing.
This must be hers. Does she want it back?
She's staring. He wants to look back at the ground and yet he can't find himself to do so.
He hesitated and turned his gaze behind her. A woman adult with the same features as the child approached. The girl took a step forward and he fled.
……………………………..
Ino likes collecting knick knacks. Whatever she finds interesting whether a rock or a leaf or a pencil or any other she would keep in and bring it to her room. Most than often her mother would berate her at her habit yet she never listened and her mother didn't really try to dissuade her.
Ino has good eyes.
She could see something beautiful at the most oddest things, she bend down as if to pick a random rock go back and polish it at home and a few moments later it would shine like a most precious stone. She would pick weeds and unique and most often ugly flower that normally get cut away by others and put them together making the most exotic bouquet making them look strangely beautiful.
Yeah, Ino likes different things, likes keeping things, and likes showing what she had worked on to be showed to the rest of the world.
Her mother likes that about her, she just hoped her daughter would learn to organize her things so that the house won't seem too stuffy and messy.
"Wait a moment here dear. I'll just buy some fish."
The girl nodded as her mother walked off to a nearby stand. She hummed and returned the friendly hellos with her own from the villagers. She looked around as she adjusted her hold at the package at her hands. She abruptly stopped as her vision was centered on something bright gold. She nearly winced when the sun shined directly on it making it gleam, she didn't notice that her paper bag filled with chilled oranges are tilted as one of the fruits fell off and rolled towards the gold thing that she now just realized was a scruffy looking boy with wild gold hair.
Blond? Blonds are rare in the country. Here in the village I thought it was just me, papa and mama that have blond hair.
The boy was as still as a statue with his head bent down whiles all of the people around him bustled and moved. For the longest time the boy just looked at the fruit by his feet before picking it up while she stared. And slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head and she held back a gasp of surprise. His eyes are the brightest, bluest, and most soulful eyes she had encountered. It was mesmerizing.
She took a tentative step towards the boy who seems frozen at his spot looking at her when his gaze shifted, a man crossed her vision and when the person moved away. The boy was gone.
"Ino."
"Ino."
"Ino!"
She blinked and almost jumped in surprise when a hand lay upon her shoulder. "What are you doing just standing over there? We have to go home so I could prepare our lunch." Her mother frowned at her a moment before grasping her daughter's hand and led her home. Ino merely remained quiet and mused to herself as they walk.
Definitely different. So fascinating, so intriguing. Interesting…
