Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Naruto characters~

Author's Note: Thank you for your support bacon! 8D

And just who was that person exactly?

Well- he's actually here with us today. He's sitting up in the front, half asleep, and not paying attention.

Three seats to the right from the teach's desk, and one seat back. Both earbuds in, even though he's tryna hide it.

I hate that guy- almost as much as I hate the guy sitting way in the back, staring at me as if he wants to set me on fire with willpower alone.

But before I get to him, let me get to him.

…

Gym class came every sixth-hour, and ever sixth hour I was one of the first people there. And not because I actually tried to be first- but because the gym was literally right across the hall.

So when I headed down to the locker rooms, I was greeted with that same smell that makes up the locker room- blood, sweat, piss, and tears.

And don't get me wrong- it's a homey smell, and something I actually looked forward to when I came to P.E ..just because it reminded me of home. Because it sorta smells like victory to me too.

So then there I was- walking to my locker. And it's a rusted looking thing, banged up and nearly torn apart. And it's so beat up that putting a lock on won't help in adding security.

Though- there isn't a single soul who'll dare to touch my locker anyway.

I opened up the small compartment and got changed- noticing that the three or so guys around me took care to put on their clothes and get the hell on out.

And just to be clear, I don't know when that first started- the 'being scared of me in the locker room' charade. It just sort of happened. But the only reason why I noticed it at all was because of one guy. The same guy- Mr. One N' Only-

And can you guess who that was?

But before I get to the story of what happened in gym- lemme tell you the story of the first gym. The one before all the others; the one that started the chain of sixth-hour gyms to come. And the time I re-met Mr. One N' Only for the first time in three long years.

So here's this jackass that comes along- not giving a damn about who was who or what was happening. He walks in one day with those same ol' earbuds plugged in.

And I can remember that he was wearing this black t-shirt and gym shorts. His eyes were glued to his phone, the light illuminating his face, but one hand was smudging some sort of red stuff on his cheeks.

He ends up not paying attention and bumping into me- and because I wasn't paying much attention either, I got smushed against my locker.

Well- getting slammed into lockers sent a bad string of memories through my mind- memories that I had wanted to forget a long time ago. Memories of the past that'd stay in the past per say. So of course I got mad- I mean, who wouldn't?

He mumbled something- and it was probably a half-ass apology- but I ignored that as I grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged down as hard as I could.

And of course- the big oaf came tumbling down. The triangle he was drawing on his face was now smeared because I managed to jerk his hand away- and I laughed at the stupid look he now had on.

He then ripped out his earbuds and got back up- shoving me in the shoulder and asking what my problem was.

And guys- it was the funniest thing, cause he looked so mad. He didn't know who I was- even when I was now staring right into his eyes- giving him that same old 'Happy Grin' that the old Naruto used to give. But I guess- it changed a bit over the years cause he didn't recognize what I was givin' out.

'Cause even after that- he still looked just as confused and angry as ever. The triangles were a new look to him, but the hair was the same, and the skin, and the build, and the same bitch scent.

"What's your problem man?" He barked at me with a fire in his eyes- ready to start a fight if need be. His body was stiff and his hands were clenched in fists, I assumed- fists he'd use to assault me with.

If he could.

"You nearly smashed me against my locker" I said-

And then he goes and says, "But I didn't. Accidents happen."

And that friends- was a bad answer, and I guess he didn't realize that, but soon enough he did- because I connected my fist to his mouth and watched as he went down. Again.

And then I laughed.

Again.

"Man- you're not all that hard to knock around." I ended up taunting him. And boy- that made him even madder, cause he got up and lunged for me- and he caught me- and he sent us both to the ground.

And yeah, we wrestled a bit- and to be honest I don't know who won that battle in the aftermath, but all I knew was that I wanted to leave as many marks as possible- visible marks in places that were hard to cover up. It didn't matter how many he gave me- just as long I bloodied him up as much as I possibly could.

But good ol' Bitch Boy was as tough as a nail. Well- his skin at least. Because I didn't manage to leave any positive impressions on him. Sure- a broken nose and a split lip, but nothing I could actually be proud of.

And as long as we could've gone on, we cut our friendly little tussle short when the bell rang- and fuck, could that bell be heard from a shit long ways away.

I remember that as it rang, my hand was around his neck and my fist was frozen right in front of the guy's nose, ready to break it some more- while the back of my hair was being clenched in his fist and tugged back as much as he could try for.

And we stayed like that- somewhat frozen, maybe in shock- in our rather abrupt ending, for who knows how long.

It seemed like forever too, just staring in his eyes, watching as the sweat rolled down his forehead, and how his lip trembled, and the ...the corner of a canine peeking out from his mouth.

Don't know what he saw in me now that I think of it- …maybe he didn't see anything, but then again, maybe all he saw was some sweatyass blonde kid hovering too close to his face for liking.

Whatever the case was-

That was how I re-met my middle school best friend.

Funny how he didn't even recognize me…huh?