Interlude: putting up with you
"Is this seat taken?" six-year-old Tenten asked politely. She had her lunchbox in her hands and a smile on her face.
Six-year-old Neji gave her the stink eye.
"Yes."
She sat down like she hadn't heard him and started eating, ignoring his darkening scowl. Even at a young age, he had mastered the subtle art of being unapproachable. To most, anyway.
"You know that's the first thing you've ever said to me," Tenten beamed around a mouthful of rice, "Even though we're in the same class and all."
Neji was determined not to concede any more ground to her. He resolved to ignore her forever.
Evidently, a six-year-old's version of forever lasted only as long as his patience, which was in turn approximately thirty seconds.
"What do you want?" he snapped.
Tenten looked hurt and jabbed her chopsticks at him.
"I just wanted to be friends," she pouted. Neji snorted – another social interaction he'd been practicing – and turned his head away.
"Who would want to be friends with a dropout like you?" he muttered, sliding off of the bench. Or he would have, anyway, had his newly-declared "friend" not pinned his pants to the bench with the chopsticks she had been brandishing before. He pinwheeled his little arms, managing to retain his balance and a few shreds of his miniaturized dignity, but not his lunch, which spilled onto the autumn leaves carpeting the ground.
"Now look what you've done!" Neji raged.
"You did it yourself! Stupid-head! Nyah! Stupid fathead!"
Neji lashed out, knocking Tenten's food to the earth as well and putting an abrupt stop to her taunts. There. Now they were even. He was struggling to extricate himself from the chopsticks when he heard a soft sniffle.
"My mommy made that for me," Tenten whimpered, crying into the back of fisted hands, "All I wanted was to be friends, you big jerk."
Neji frowned at the holes in his clothing, then at her. She was right... She had only tried to be friendly, and he had caused most of the commotion. He sighed, as though two spilled lunchboxes were tantamount to the whole of world hunger, which, to him, they were.
"Let's go," he decided, taking her fingers gingerly to avoid the saline tear stains, "I'll buy you lunch."
"R-Really?" Tenten asked, and her expression brightened like the sun behind parting rainclouds, "Does this mean we're friends?"
Neji grunted noncommittally, but didn't let go of her hand. He decided he liked it there.
Feedback is welcome.