I held up the tiny hand mirror, tracing the thin black lines around my eyes. It still felt so strange looking into a mirror and not finding dark eyes and hair on brown skin. I studied every vein and shift in color in my new eyes with fascination. Blue eyes had always fascinated me as a child. They were so bright compared to the browns I was used to. My eyes—Minako's eyes—were an ocean shade of blue, somewhere between the shade of deep-sea blue and water-over-a-coral-reef-on-a-sunny-day blue. It was the same as Naruto's eyes, actually, though his always seemed brighter, especially when he smiled.
My fingers returned to my natural tattoos. They might have looked sexy or intense on an adult, but it just made my eyes jump out of my tiny child's face. Why did I have them? Was it because Naruto was my brother? Or Kushina my mother? It was definitely because of the Kyuubi... they looked way too much like the markings around its eyes for it not to be.
But the Kyuubi was in Naruto... the little whisker marks on his cheeks proved it. I frowned at the mirror, feeling a little chill down my spine at how scary the glare looked. Sure, it was the glare of a teeny tiny five-year-old, but it was scarier than the glare of any other five-year-old!
I puffed out my cheeks a little, and had to bite back a giggle. Okay, now that just turned it cute. Maybe I should practice puppy dog eyes and see if I could make them as devastating as Naruto's.
"Min'ko-chan! Hey, hey, Min'ko-chan!"
I jumped, almost dropping the mirror in shock. I shoved it into the shelf to my right even as Naruto barged into the room. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me. "Were you staring at the mirror again?"
I burst out laughing, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. "What? No! Why on earth would you think that?"
His lower lip jutted out as he glared harder, not convinced at all. "You're always staring at them, -ttebayo!" I grinned unrepentantly at him, making him groan. "I don't get it! Why do you like looking at them so much?"
"Because I am gorgeous, that's why, dattebana." I flipped my shoulder-length hair over my shoulder and propped a hand on my hip, striking a pose.
His groan rose into a whine. "Whaaaat?" I burst out laughing and threw a pillow at him, making him scowl. "Come on, come on come on, we still have to clean the bathroom."
"Fine, fine, I'm coming." I stood, dusting my skirt off. I pretended not to hear his mutterings about "weird" and "girls" and pushed him outside, giggling to myself all the while.
Productivity was something encouraged in the children here, so everyone had their own chores to do, and a rotation for doing them. The only difference was that Naruto and I were always assigned to a single room by ourselves, which always meant we stayed there cleaning longer and had the double effect of separating us from the other children. The thought made me frown. If Naruto wasn't here, I'd have probably gone crazy. Everyone was told not to talk to us, and it took effort just to find someone to talk to. No wonder he turned into a loudmouthed prankster just to get attention in canon. I'd have probably done everything I could for attention at that point too.
Naruto held out his hand. I didn't even think when I took it, once again pitter-pattering out of our tiny room. We made our way to the bathroom, only to find a pail with the cleaning materials in front of the door, and a note stuck underneath.
"What does it say?" Naruto asked, peeking over my shoulder.
I couldn't help a low growl of frustration as I squinted at the semi-familiar mix of Japanese characters and other symbols that weren't familiar at all. This was revenge for yesterday, wasn't it? I swear, Miyagawa-san's inability to choose between aggressive or passive-aggressive hate would have been hilarious if it wasn't so irritating.
"Who cares?" I replied, stuffing the note into the pocket of my duster. I snatched the bucket and everything in it, grunting from the effort of dragging it inside the bathroom. "Let's just get started, okay?"
"Okay…" Naruto gave me one last puzzled look, before taking his own rag and starting on the floor.
I emitted another angry grunt as I yanked a brush from the bucket a little harder than necessary. That's it, I'm going to pay a visit to the orphanage library and I am going to learn how to read.
With the first of many images of Miyagawa-san dying a brutal, painful death in my mind, I set the brush down and got to work.
Even when I was alive in my first life, I already acknowledged how lucky I was to be living it. My family was of the middle class, and could send me to private schools with the best available education. My parents were loving and caring, a bit traditionalist but always understanding. I had a group of friends who felt like my platonic soulmates, we were that close. My little brother was a lot less exuberant than Naruto, but he loved me all the same and I loved him back.
I would be the first to admit that that version of me was a naive, sheltered girl. I found it hard to believe stereotypes like jocks beating up other kids, girls hair-pulling and doing all the things teenagers did on American TV. I knew there had to be some part of it that was real, but it was hard for me to believe there were people who could actually do that. It felt too surreal, like fiction. That didn't quite cover more serious crimes (like murder for example), but it still felt like something that happened to other people, not me.
Growing up in the orphanage changed all that.
Overly-abusive adults always made my eyes glaze over in fiction, because they almost always ended up feeling flat or unrealistic, made to tug on the heartstrings of the reader for the poor main character. And yet, Miyagawa-san almost acted like she wanted to live up to the stereotype with vigor. Most of the time, she ignored us and did everything in her power to pretend we didn't exist, including trying to convince the rest of the orphanage we didn't exist (hence the separate chores.) If she wasn't ignoring us, she was bullying us.
"Brats!" was a word I wouldn't go a day without hearing.
She never beat us, a small mercy. She did find every excuse to lay the blame on me and Naruto, or give us heavy, tiring work, or keep us separate from the other children. She never outright called us stupid, but she certainly implied it with judicious amounts of sarcasm and patronization. It was all I could do not to scream in her face.
Just because Naruto took time to absorb and process things didn't mean he was stupid! In fact, I found that he caught on to things pretty fast, given enough reason for motivation. And it wasn't my fault I found it hard to process things in the Konoha language!
Logically, I knew that there had to be a reason for her actions. I've seen her treat other children with a brusque but caring touch, and her lullabies were a prized privilege in the orphanage. But how could I make excuses for her like that, when every day I would catch Naruto fighting back tears or looking down as the children refused to let him play? How could I forgive her, when despite all that she's done and despite all he's been through, Naruto always tried to make me smile in his own awkward, heartfelt way?
I couldn't stand up to her. What use was fighting back if all that would do is make things worse? She had her own reasons after all, and even if I burned under the injustice of it all I couldn't exactly blame her for hating us... Or what was inside him.
Naruto was braver than me. I don't know where he learned how to prank, but somehow he managed to dump a bucket of dirty water on Miyagawa-san's head when we turned four and he caught me crying into my pillow in the middle of the night. He didn't get caught then, but we got thrown into the Cabinets of Doom anyway (that's what I called them, at least). I actually considered scolding him for it—he confessed to me when we got reunited—but I remembered Miyagawa-san's livid face and the laughter of the children around us.
The next time Miyagawa-san tricked Naruto into missing dinner, I helped him set up a sponge trap that sent the crabby lady skidding across the hallway.
From the way Greeny was eyeing us, he was remembering exactly that, and wondering if it was worth it to answer my question.
We had been headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, only to find our way barred by a crowd of chattering children of different sizes. Naruto and I exchanged looks of puzzlement, before turning to stare at the crowd again.
"...What's going on?" I finally asked, addressing a blondie and a green-headed boy (and wasn't that weird?).
Greeny looked us over in that demeaning head-to-toe way, taking stock of my red hair and Naruto's big blue eyes and our clasped hands in one look. His expression screamed a bored, 'Oh. It's you.'
All the kids knew in some way or form to avoid us, thanks to Miyagawa-san's frequent angry outbursts and Minoru-san's silent example. My tendency to stick to myself and Naruto's natural tendency to wander in a small orbit around my general area didn't really help.
The adults' efforts didn't help. Having our own room, delaying our meal times, assigning us different chores... It wasn't good. I could see Naruto hurting with the desperate, clueless loneliness of a child. He found his ways around it, snatching pieces of conversation whenever the staff weren't in the room, messing things up just to make everyone laugh and Miyagawa-san fume... I did my best to teach him to make sure his pranks would always be just pranks and never hurt anyone ("Otherwise they won't be fun anymore, Naruto."), but to stop his bratty attitude completely?
Let's just say I couldn't be the best example of angelic behavior either.
And I had to admit, it was pretty satisfying to see Miyagawa-san shrieking obscenities with a red face and hair dyed pink.
I glared at Greeny, daring him to say anything that would ruin Naruto's perfectly good morning. He raised an eyebrow, not impressed at all. Considering he looked tall enough to be ready to graduate the Academy, and that I was a year away from entering yet, I couldn't exactly blame him for it.
"Edogawa just passed the independence exam," he said, jabbing a finger over his shoulder. "Everyone's fussing over it."
I blinked, searching through the smatterings of vague faces in my mind and trying to see which one matched up to the name "Edogawa". Naruto—who spent more time with the other kids than I did—reacted first.
"Eeeehhh?! But Edogawa's not even in the Academy yet!" I snapped to attention at that, looking at Greeny and Blondie with wide eyes.
"It's true!" Blondie nodded, her little bun-shaped pigtails bouncing in her enthusiasm. "Edogawa-kun is reeeaaally smart! He knows how to cook and everything! Sora-san taught him!"
Sora-san was the orphanage cook, wasn't she? "I didn't know you were allowed to take the independence exam below the age of ten," I said warily.
"Not really. As long as you know how to take care of yourself, they let you go." Greeny shrugged. "They want to free up as much space as possible in the orphanages. Besides, Sensei told me the Academy graduation record was 5 years old, so they can't say you're too young to live alone if you pass."
My eyes widened. "How do you apply?"
Turned out the basic requirements for taking the test were knowing how to read and write. Which, of course, sucked, because we weren't exactly good at that yet.
Naruto and I were currently halfway through our obligatory year of civilian school. Konoha's orphan children along with the rest of its civilian population started school at the age of 5, in a building separate from the one that housed the ninja kids.
No clan kid entered civilian school. Their clans were expected to teach them their own basic education, as well as whatever cheating beginner techniques they learned inside their compounds.
In civilian school, children learned how to read, write, do math, as well as a bit of the basic history of Konohagakure. There was a lot on how the ninja worked tirelessly to protect and support the village, and how the village upheld the Will of Fire, even when under assault from the other villages.
Which was, wow, very interesting, and plenty awe-inspiring, but also kind of creepy. I mean, I get it, Konoha is awesome and all that, but from the way they painted it, it sounded like they were the Hero of The Entire World? And the center of it too. And, okay, I might have fallen for it once, but after a couple of years of Tumblr I could sniff out a biased point of view from a mile away.
So maybe Iwa is a bit kekkai genkai hungry, but that doesn't mean they're all evil and drink-the-blood-of-their-enemies crazy! Also, Konoha isn't that awesome either, considering it pumped out nutters like Orochimaru, Madara, Tobi, and Danzo. The only stuff I was willing to believe was the stuff they told about Kiri, and only because I knew they really did have at least one shark baby (AKA Kisame). But, wow. Accusing them of breeding with sea demons? That's… a very disturbing mental image, to say the least. (But then again, wasn't there this one guy who graduated by killing an entire school…?)
After their first year in civilian school, the children who wanted to become ninja (AKA most of us, thank you biased history class) went on to the Academy. The rest (and the Academy flunkies) continued for another four years at civilian school, before apprenticing themselves to their profession of choice and growing up to become the working-class citizens of Konoha.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to learn the Konoha alphabet. Being an adult in mind if not body, you'd think I'd be able to pick it up in a snap, no problem. Unfortunately, memorizing things had never been one of my good points. And the Konoha alphabet was huge. Not as big as the Japanese/Chinese kanji alphabet, but huge all the same, considering some of the Konoha letters were borrowed from there. (I think.)
And since I was a minor, I couldn't claim guardianship of Naruto, so he had to take the test, too. Thank god his learning speed was slower than mine; I don't think I could have endured the humiliation if it wasn't. Keeping him caught up was hard though, especially since I wasn't exactly a master of the language yet. It didn't help that he had the attention span of a sea slug, and was picky about the books we read together.
"That one's boring." Naruto pouted, as I reached for the Legend of the Bamboo Baby again.
I sighed and put the book down. "It's either this or Ari no Ie no Ue, Naruto." Underneath the Ant's House was the local equivalent of an ABC book. Other than that, there were embarrassingly few books that we could read in the orphanage library. I said orphanage library, but it was more of an exaggeration. There weren't that many books in the indoor play room, not enough to warrant a room for themselves, even.
"I don't like them! They're all boring, -ttebayo!" Naruto declared. "I wanna hear the one about Suticchi!"
I felt my face burn with a blush. Okay, so maybe I used vague recollections of Disney movies to entertain Naruto on the nights he couldn't stay still enough to sleep. His favorite, unsurprisingly enough, was Lilo and Stitch—or Riro to Suticchi, as he knew it. I had taken heavy liberties with the plot, considering all I remembered was Stitch was a wanted alien and Lilo was the weird kid with no friends, but Naruto insisted on hearing it again and again. Whether he liked it for Stitch's similar situation (a lonely fluffy dog feared by everyone) or the family feels between the alien and Lilo was up in the air. One thing's for sure, his favorite part of the story was always that one line that stuck in my head, and probably everyone else who watched the movie.
"You just want to hear the ohana line again," I grumbled, rubbing my burning cheek. It was the one thing that stayed constant in the story. Yesterday Stitch had been chased by evil ninja, and last week he and Lilo had run away to Iwa, just because. Naruto didn't seem to mind, even if his memory was much better than mine. Sometimes I even lost track of where the story was going. For some reason, he liked those times best.
"I like Suticchi!" He defended his favorite story with all the might of a toddler. "It's not boring! Not like the other stories."
"We need those other stories so you can learn to read, Naruto. We can't take the independence test if you can't read!" Seeing his unconvinced face, I wheedled, "Don't you want to get out of the orphanage? No more Miyagawa-san?"
His face crumpled, brows furrowed in conflict. "But I hate the other stories…" he whined.
I searched my mind for something else to convince him. "Okay, fine. How about you read Ari no Ie no Ue to me, and if you finish it, I'll tell Riro to Suticchi to you?"
His frown intensified, eyes searching my face suspiciously. "Promise?"
I nodded, and held up my pinky finger in a solemn vow. "Pinky promise. Dattebana," I added quickly, because for some reason he never believed I meant something unless I said that stupid verbal tic too.
Naruto's nose wrinkled as he considered it. Finally, he nodded.
We shook on it.
Thanks to all the chores we did in the orphanage, we already knew how to clean up after ourselves. The next hard step was learning how to cook.
Not that I didn't know how to cook. But for once, Miyagawa-san's heavy skepticism and sarcasm did Naruto and me some good. I completely forgot we were in a world that snapped up child geniuses faster than you can say "feed 'em to the lions." So when she asked me how exactly I planned to take the independence test when I hadn't learned to cook yet, I realized… that I hadn't 'learned' how to cook yet. At least, not in this world. Could you imagine people's faces when a child just magically knew how to cook? Out of thin air? Nope, not going down that path.
And didn't that just suck, knowing I had Miyagawa-san to thank for something?
I peeked through the kitchen door, trying to see if there was anyone inside who would be detrimental to my cause. It was hard to tell, since Naruto and I hadn't been allowed inside ever since he played around with the suds and ended up breaking half a dozen plates in one go.
I still have no idea how that happened, and I was standing right next to him.
Inside the kitchen was a young girl in her early twenties (oh my god she had pink hair and it looked natural), a boy even younger than that, and a lady who looked old enough to be Miyagawa-san's aunt. She certainly had the frown down pat, though this one was directed at the pot she was stirring and not at me. For now.
Deeming it safe, I slid the paper door a little wider. The moment the wood scraped against the floor, the old lady's eyes snapped to mine, freezing me in place.
"You're not allowed here," she snapped, stormy eyes flinty over her wizened cheeks. I gulped, then grit my teeth and tilted my chin up, giving her glare for glare back.
"I want to learn how to cook like Edogawa," I declared, keeping my shaking hand on the door. I could see the younger girl giving me a wide-eyed look, while the boy looked ready to snap the broom in his hands. Hopefully it wasn't so that he could stab me through with a stick.
Good thing Naruto wasn't with me. Right now he was off with the other children, trying to join in their games with his usual relentless determination. I wished him luck and all the success. Thank goodness he didn't have to learn how to cook too, considering he was going to live with me. The thought of his hyperactivity inside the kitchen was enough to make my insides squirm. Not to mention how it would probably just worsen the tension in the room. Sister of the demon container, eww, gross. Actual demon container? Broom Boy probably would try to stab us with a stick.
Sora-san snorted, breaking the worst of it. Broom Boy turned back to his sweeping, his hands white-knuckled on the handle. Pinky needed a snap of the fingers from Sora-san before she returned to her senses and fled to what could only be the storage room. I bit my lip and did my best not to scowl. God save me from mutant hair colors the shade of neon lights and bad quality hair spray.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Sora-san snapped, breaking me out of my thoughts. I gaped at her, making her 'tch' and flap a hand impatiently at me. "The faster we get this over with, the faster I can get you out of my hair."
"You mean… I'm learning? Now?" I scrambled to follow, grabbing the chair she pointed at and dragging it over to the stove.
"Yes. Now. Unless you're waiting on that pesky brother of yours?" She raised an eyebrow. I scowled, but shook my head. "Smart choice. Now pay attention. I'll only say this once, so you better remember it." She pointed at a nearby box of eggs and made me fetch it.
"Wait a minute, you're only teaching me once?" I glanced between her and the pan already on the stove. "Don't you need more than one dish to know how to cook?"
"As far as the test is concerned, you only need to know how to cook something and rice." Like that egg, went unsaid. "Now get the oil and watch."
I balked. "You can't live off just egg and rice!"
Metal slammed into the counter, making it ring. I jumped, then yelped when Sora-san abandoned her pot to tower over me. "Look, brat. I don't like kids. I never did. The only reason I'm still here is because it pays the bills and I owed Risa's mother."
I felt too scared to blink. Risa… did she mean Miyagawa-san?
"Now if you want to leave, then fine. No skin off my back, and less mouths to feed. But if you think I'm going to spend more time than necessary to teach you shit you can learn on your own, you better get out now before I kick you out." She snorted again, leaning down and turning the potency of her glare up by fifty. I flinched back. "Well? Are you going to follow or not?"
Too shell-shocked to argue, I barely followed her subsequent lesson on cooking a sunny-side up and boiling a pot of rice. I moved on automatic, busy wrapping my mind around her declaration. This was the lady in charge of one of the essential skills children needed to move out of the orphanage? A woman who taught children how to cook an egg and rice, then left them to figure the rest out themselves? This wasn't right! If they were letting five- and six-year-olds live on their own, the least they could do was make sure they lived right!
Something must have shown on my face, because Sora-san made a rude growling noise in the back of her throat and almost startled me into flipping the egg into her face. "What? Shocked that I'm not happy with my job? I bet you're thinking, if I hate it so much, why am I still here? Well guess what, brat?" She punctuated her statement with the clang of pots landing among pans. "Life isn't fair. You better learn that before you go skipping into the sunrise of independent living. You planning to be a shinobi?" She waited until I nodded, then snorted again. "Ha! Good fucking luck with that."
I flipped my perfectly good egg onto a plate and avoided looking her in the eyes. Personally, I agreed, but that didn't mean I wanted to agree with a woman who just sent out children without caring whether they would live or not.
In the background, Broom Boy kicked a barrel into place a little too heavily and ended up cursing as it spilled over his foot.
With Sora-san out of the way, we only needed Miyagawa-san's permission before we could take the independence test. I grabbed Naruto by the hand and dragged him around the orphanage, searching for the rooster-like woman. God, I couldn't wait to get her out of my ass. The thought almost had me grinning as we scampered over the wooden floors. Maybe when we get out of here, I could finally go looking for someone who wouldn't hate the two of us on sight. The world's a big place, after all, and if ever, I could just find a clueless foreigner and befriend them.
If I didn't get any supportive social interaction aside from Naruto soon, I just might fulfill expectations and burn something to the ground. Or a lot of things. It was up in the air. Too bad I never learned how to make Molotovs in my previous life.
"Min'ko, slow down," Naruto whined, tugging at the hand around his wrist. "You're too fast!"
It was taking a loooong time to break Naruto's habit of calling me "Min'ko-chan", but at least we were making progress. I couldn't wait until I knocked him out of it; it would be one less thing that made me feel like the child I was supposed to be. "Mi-na-ko," I reminded him, ignoring his whining. He was the Kyuubi jinchuuriki, and an Uzumaki to boot. He could handle a little running. "Come on, Greeny said she would be over here by the baby area!"
"His name's Kuroba," Naruto mumbled, but forged on obligingly.
"Kuroba, whatebah." He pouted at the horrible pun. I just grinned at him. "Hey, look, I found he—"
I skidded to a stop, my feet locking into place. Naruto yelped, crashing into me, and spouted some colorful words I made note to scold him about later. "Min'ko, what the—" I could hear his teeth click shut as he clammed up.
Just around the corner we could see Miyagawa-san seated on the edge of the raised pathway of the traditional-styled orphanage. On her lap was a small kid, a year or so older than us, crying into her skirt. Miyagawa-san hummed, stroking his hair with her hand.
"I-I-I'm s-s-sowweeeeeee," the kid bawled, digging his face in even further. "I w-won't do it again, I p-promiiiiiiiise!"
"No… please… not the closet, not the closet! Please! It's too dark, it's too small, please, just let me go, I didn't do it, I swear—"
"Hey, now. Look at me." Miyagawa-san tapped his cheek with a finger, until he raised his snotty face and looked her in the eye. "You want to be a ninja, right?" He nodded, making her smile. "Ninjas are very brave people. They have to be, so that they can grow up strong and protect the village. So, you have to be brave too. When you make a mistake, you have to accept it! And then you do your best not to do it again. Alright?"
"What kind of ninja is scared of the dark? Get in there! Stop blubbering and accept your punishment with dignity!"
I felt something tug on my hand as if from far away. Someone was making small, whimpering noises at the back of their throat. Was it me? I couldn't tell. There was a fire burning in my gut, spreading from the tips of my toes to the back of my eyes. It pushed everything away, a wall of anger and hatred that made me see red.
"—n'ko—"
I hated her. I hated Miyagawa so much. How could she? How could she say such kind words to a crying child, only to turn around and say the opposite to a child even smaller than that? We had done nothing wrong except harbor a demon in the body of a child, which wasn't even a choice given to us. What kind of two-faced hypocrite could live with herself, caring for children and cursing just two?
"Min'ko—"
I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to hear her scream. Maybe then she'll feel like I did, trapped in a small, dank closet with only stale air and spiders for company. I could crush her under my heel like a bug. I could make her dream nightmares for the rest of eternity. All I needed was to reach inside and—
"Minako, you're hurting me!"
I jerked, my fingers opening of their own accord. Naruto's pained cry seemed to echo inside my head, chasing away shadows that suddenly clouded my vision. (And yet my vision had never been so clear.) I turned around, just in time to see Naruto recoil, his wrist clutched to his chest with his other hand. "Oww…" Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He sniffled, trying to keep his hurt arm still. But what struck me the most was the way he flinched back from my outstretched hand.
"S-sorry," I stammered, trying to pull myself together. I felt heady, like I'd been standing on a cliff feeling the urge to jump, only to be pulled back at the last minute. I shook my head, clearing away the last of the angry fog. Hate doesn't get you anywhere, and only destroys yourself. I had to remember that.
Otherwise it would be a lot easier to turn into a killer than I feared.
"Sorry, Naruto. I was… I was thinking bad thoughts." I rubbed my still-burning eyes, and felt my hand come away wet. I looked at Naruto, whose stance had softened and his gaze more hurt than terrified. "I just… dammit." I rubbed my eyes again, and fought back a sob. This was not the time to cry! "S-sorry. Did I hurt you?" He nodded, biting his lip, but let me examine his hand. His wrist was red, my handprint clear against his tanned skin. I winced, pushing back the panic that threatened to take over me.
Wasn't I a little young to show signs of ninja super strength? Dammit, I didn't know anything! If anger could make me hurt Naruto by accident, then I needed to watch myself for now while there was no one around to teach me how to control it. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Naruto again… and this time, permanently. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. Let's go find some ice for that, okay? I'm sorry, Naruto."
My face must have been pitiful. I was worried sick. Naruto's eyes softened. He straightened his posture, bringing his chin up bravely. "Okay."
I placed my hand on his shoulder as gently as possible, steering him away… only for the last voice I wanted to hear right now speak up behind me. "What are you brats doing here?" Miyagawa-san said, her hard, clipped tone cutting through whatever peace I'd mustered for the moment.
I deliberately pulled my hand away from Naruto, clenching both into fists at my side instead. I turned, keeping my face as flat as I could. "We're ready to take the independence test," I said, frozen with the effort of keeping my voice cool.
"Hmph." Miyagawa-san scoffed, letting go of the boy she'd been holding to cross her arms. "You'd better be. You wanted this, so you better pass. Otherwise it'll be the cabinets again for you." I couldn't help but flinch at that. She sneered, delighting in my fear. She dropped her arms and took the boy's hand again and moved past us. I could see him peeking back at us out of the corner of my eye. Miyagawa-san had one last parting thing to say. "Thank the gods, I'll finally be rid of the two of you."
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists until I could feel my stubby nails biting into my palm. I took one deep breath, and another, and another. At last, I opened my eyes and gave Naruto a wobbly smile. His eyes were filled with the usual hurt, confusion, and anger whenever Miyagawa-san said something like that. "Thank the gods," I repeated, not caring if she heard me or not. I never looked away from Naruto. "We'll finally be rid of you too."
Naruto stared at me, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Then, slowly, he smiled.
Edited: 01/14/2020
