Season:
Fall

Uzumaki Kushina was well accustomed to rain. In Whirlpool Country it tended to rain a lot; if a solid week passed with no rain at all, people started muttering about droughts. The only place rainier that she knew of was Ame no Kuni—the Land of Rain—where it was said to at the very least drizzle daily, and seeing the unclouded sun was as rare as catching a solar eclipse.

It hadn't rained much in the spring in Fire Country, and barely rained at all during the summer. But the rain came with a vengeance when fall rolled around. And according to her classmates, it would rain through winter. There would be no snow unless there was a freakish cold snap. Hi no Kuni simply had too warm a climate for a real winter, or even a real fall.

There were few bright colors of changing leaves. If the trees shed them at all, they just slowly turned a dull brown and just as slowly fell. Combined with the frequent rain storms and the near-permanent cloudy skies, it made autumn rather damp and grim.

I hate it here, she thought savagely. Sure it was always wet in fall back in Uzu, but at least there were pretty colors! Fall in Fire Country is ugly!

She sat on a low brick wall outside of Konoha's public library and numbly watched the occasional car drive by as raindrops soaked through her hated school uniform. After school had let out for the summer and all the way up until the next term started in the fall she'd begged her father to let her enroll in the public school. But he hadn't wavered one inch and kept her at the evil private school.

Private schools provide higher-quality education, he'd said. Good grades meant more coming from such institutions, and that led to easier college entry. And it would, in turn, lead better jobs and a more secure living.

He didn't seem to care that all the teachers were boring and inflexible as a box of rocks. He thought she was exaggerating when she claimed all the students were a bunch of stuck of snobs and that she hated them all. He was wholly unbothered by the fact that she utterly despised and completely loathed the school's uniforms.

I think Daddy hates me, she pouted. He's been lying to me all these years when he claimed to love me. He likes seeing me suffer…

She'd come to the library to work on a group project for her history class. Her group was a poor nerdy boy whose allergies annoyed her, and a pair of gorgeous airheads. So that meant that she and the geek were doing all the work and the bimbos would do the presentation. Kushina drearily hoped that the two brainless pretty girls could pick up enough vital information from the written report she and stuffy-nose had been writing to give a sensible and coherent talk to the rest of the class.

Sometimes I wonder why I even try, Kushina sulked. I hate everything about that school. Maybe if I totally flunk all my classes they'll boot me out and then I'll have to go to the public school…

Idly fingering the end of her wet braid, she mentally kicked herself yet again for forgetting her umbrella in her locker, and her coat at home. It wasn't as if she needed them; she didn't mind getting wet one bit. It was just really embarrassing for her, a native of a drizzly climate, to forget her rain gear anywhere when the weather was so wet.

She toyed with the idea of heading home—her need to be at the library was through. But she was cranky and the mild rain suited her mood perfectly. She felt no particular desire to head home where the only company was her private-school-loving father.

So she stayed sitting on the squat brick wall in the rain and spaced out.

Why did Daddy have to get transferred? Why couldn't I have stayed back in Whirlpool with Kenshin and stayed at my old school? They had uniforms, too; but at least I had the option of wearing pants…

Maybe…maybe I can talk Daddy into letting me move in with Kenshin-nii-san for next semester, and—

The rain stopped falling on her, but she could still hear it pattering all around her. She blinked, and looked up to see the underside of a red umbrella. Her eyes traced down the handle and then up the hand holding it, to lock with a pair of concerned, bright blue eyes framed by a mop of spiky, sun-yellow hair.

"You shouldn't be out in the rain like this," he said. "You'll get sick."

Oh. My. God.

He tilted his head curiously. "Have I…met you before?"

Kushina cringed. "Um…I guess." Does running someone over, and then giving him a concussion later count as "meeting" them?

"You guess?" he blinked.

"…That blonde lady called you 'Mina-chan'?" she offered weakly.

"Ah," he laughed in embarrassment and rubbed at the back of his head. "I've asked Tsunade-oba-san to stop calling me that…but she never listens to me. When did you met her?"

"Over the summer," she shrugged, "in July. She came to get you when…well…"

"Oh…the concussion…" The poor guy looked mortified. "Jiraiya-oji-san said that I said a bunch of stupid stuff after that, but I don't remember—I didn't say anything stupid to you, did I?"

"Nah, not really." She nervously squeezed some excess water from her long braid. "Unless you count asking the same question over and over again."

"I'm really sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "What did I ask you?"

"You wanted to know my name."

He shifted anxiously for a moment. "If you tell me this time, I promise I'll remember."

"Uzumaki Kushina," she informed him. "Now what exactly is 'Mina-chan' short for?"

"Namikaze Minato," he nodded politely to her. "It's very nice to properly meet you, Uzumaki-san."

"Likewise," she snorted. "What time is it?"

"Um…" He peered at his wristwatch. "About a quarter to six."

"That late?" she blinked. "Crud. I should get going, then." She hopped off her seat and scooped up her bag. "Well, it was nice talking to you Namikaze, but…what?"

He wasn't looking at her anymore. Actually, he just wasn't looking at her face, but lower… She glanced down to see if anything was on her shirt—and immediately regretted not wearing a jacket, regretted her white blouse, and regretted her choice of bra (a dark blue, lacy thing her brother's fiancée had given her for her last birthday).

"Pervert!" Kushina snapped, punched him in the head, and stormed off.

Boys! she thought savagely. Why do they have to be such horny little pigs?!


Minato clutched at his throbbing ear with his free hand and dazedly watched the red-head stomp into the rain and out of sight.

"She punches hard," he muttered to no one in particular.

And then it caught up with him just what he'd done.

"Oh my god, what did I just do?!"

He'd believed that he was above his godfather's corrupting influence, but when she'd stood up and her soaked white shirt had clung to her front and he'd seen…

Bad thoughts! Minato squeezed his eyes shut and vigorously shook his head. Bad thoughts! Very bad thoughts!

"I'm so screwed," he groaned, tenderly rubbing his bruised ear. "She's never going to speak to me again…"

…Why me?