¤ Chapter 2.: Uzumaki Naruto ¤
The silver-haired teacher did not miss any of this, as well as the fall of one of the students as the suffocating and interested silence caused by the pink-haired woman's presence. She was watched with interest not only by the male generation but also by the female generation for different motives. Whispers echoed through the air, of which only a few words were distinct, like 'a whore'; 'beautiful'; 'beauty'; 'she will be mine'; 'hooker'; 'wow'; 'who does she think she is?'; 'What's with the hair?'.
Sakura growled inwardly; not even in her wildest dreams did she imagine that one mission would involve so many annoying inconveniences.
"Here, look! Here!" shouted the blond boy, who woke up from the daze of pain, immediately stood up, supported himself on his bench with one hand, and waved the other high above his head, just like he did in the morning on the bus, to get the pinkette's attention, or rather, to attract her on himself and disengaged from the black haired man who was constantly watching her with murderous vigilance. "Sakura!" his hand dropped in the air; he clenched it into a fist and stuck out only a narrow index finger, which he began to point alternately at Sakura and the bench in front of him, which was a seat vacant under the circumstances. He thought only a pink-haired woman could fill this particular spot. "Here it is free!"
The pinkette imperceptibly clenched her hands into fists but was careful not to crack her knuckles and show her displeasure to all eyes.
"Sakura," the professor addressed her, reaching for his iconic book. "Sit in front of Naruto."
"Gladly," the pink-haired girl bit through her teeth and forced a small smile that didn't look as sour as she felt inside.
How much she wanted at that moment to take all the bottles of her mother's Tsunade delicious and selected alcohol, stand with them in her hands by the sink, threaten her, and look at her mother's frightened eyes. To hear her pleas and promises while she would open the first bottle of the most expensive wines and pour their contents into the drain, from where there is no return for the given liquid.
With slow, graceful steps, the pink-haired woman made her way to the place that was assigned to her. She made sure her walk was elegant, and even though she knew she had the attention of every man or woman in the room, her priority was to catch the attention of just one person - one man with piercing dark eyes. She nervously ran her hand slightly through her hair, sending out tiny flashes invisible to the naked eye so that the light floral scent would go straight to her target, trying to get into his mind the way it was written in the manuals of falling in love with people.
The first inevitable step was establishing a long, intense gaze with a mysterious touch of intimacy. Another thing Sakura remembered from the manuals was being attracted by physical appearance because - as explained to her - people, even though they said that looks didn't matter, were lying. It was a superficial lie because they say no one is interested in getting to know someone, their character, and their authentic self until they are attracted to their physical appearance. So, she had to ignite the spark and pour the right chemistry into her attempt. The last step, one of a million details, was the smell. People associated things with taste and smell, so she preferred to be safe and bet on everything she had available.
Unfortunately for her, she sat back in her seat and turned her face slightly, the corner of her eye straying to her dark-haired target, biting her lower lip in frustration. The black-haired man's attention had long since shifted to the activity he had been engaged in long before the pinkette appeared in the room. He looked out of the window on his left hand, the only evidence of his mental presence being dark, deep eyes whose pupils moved slightly in the directions of the dancing petals until they were out of sight, and he found another to watch.
The pink-haired girl only hoped that it was all just a dream. That it's just an ordinary bad dream. Or one of her mother's evil pranks, who liked to make fun of her. For example, precisely like on her fifteenth birthday, when she woke up to the sound of a low, choking laugh, she slowly opened her sleepy eyes and found that her whole family and her mother were making fun of her. For a long time after that, they called her pinkette without pink hair. Are you asking why? Her mother decided to dye her hair black in her sleep because, according to her, the black suited her better.
Sakura shook her head at the memory to get it out. It wasn't her favorite memory, nor did she like to remember. However, the pink-haired girl found herself getting an idea, but at the same time, she mentally slapped herself for not working when her tired and angry brain was supposed to after the fight with her mother. She should have dyed her damn hair before she came here.
She didn't want to be eccentric. She really didn't want to. And then she ran into a room full of fresh-faced adults with pink hair. Yes, that was Haruno Sakura.
Out of the corner of her eye, the pink-haired girl tried to glimpse the mysterious man sitting slightly to the left behind her. Her green eyes darkened with disappointment as she saw his attention shift back to the window and watch the falling petals.
Disappointed, she looked away, looked around her surroundings, and decided to behave like the other students. Mimicking their positions, she folded her arms on the bench before her and rested her head on them, creating an invisible pillow.
However, the pink-haired girl didn't notice just after she closed her eyes that a pair of dark eyes were watching her indirectly, secretly through the reflection in the window glass.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
"Wait!" called a familiar voice from somewhere as Sakura walked out of the college building and across the courtyard to the bus stop with her hands in her pockets. The thought of his unpleasant tremors made her stomach somersault, but she was determined to kill for a single seat.
She was looking forward to finally getting rid of those uncomfortable shoes driving her crazy and scratching her feet. She couldn't wait to change the binding and tight clothes for one of her silky and loose dresses; she adored getting into a sumptuous tub of hot water in the evening to make her finally relax, wash away all her worries, and help her think. However, before she could turn those plans into reality, she got annoyed by the thought of dealing with some annoying person.
She was in no mood to talk to anyone. She was frustrated. She was angry, disappointed, and, most of all, tired. No, she was exhausted.
"For God's sake, wait!" the same male voice yelled, causing Sakura's steps to stop finally, and she turned around at a slow, lazy, and annoyed pace to see the loud and screaming blond running frantically in her direction, trying to catch her up.
The pinkette raised her elegant eyebrows uncomprehendingly but simultaneously curiously and looked at the oncoming blond boy who had just arrived. He had barely braked in front of her when he tried to stop his speed with his rubber soles, which whistled briefly as they rubbed against the pavement's surface.
"Sakura, right?" the blond boy breathed out, resting his hands on his knees, hunching over slightly, and breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. As his breathing calmed down and his heart stopped beating nervously from his athletic performance, he straightened up and gave the girl in front of him a bright smile that made the pink-haired girl slightly nervous. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto," he held his hand confidently, still with an extensive and warm smile. "But call me Naruto." The pink-haired woman gratefully accepted the waiting hand.
"Nice to meet you." she tried a small smile.
"You're new here, aren't you?" the blond exclaimed another question eagerly but answered it himself before she could react. "Sure you are; I've never seen you here. Where are you from?"
The pink-haired woman took a breath to answer this time, but again to no avail.
"It doesn't matter. You'll tell me another time." he waved his hand to remove the barrier of uncertainty between them. "Shall we go somewhere?" he suddenly asked, and the pinkette flinched because she had never - in any dimension - expected anyone to show interest in her, let alone so quickly and so directly, and what's more, that someone was able to throw her off balance.
"Well, I…" she stammered, trying to find, evaluate, and choose the right words.
"It's not a date," the blond laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head nervously.
The pink-haired girl unconsciously sighed in relief at his answer, to which her eyes widened in horror as she realized what it must have looked like. The frown immediately left her face and was replaced by confusion as she saw the blond snort in amusement and roll his eyes.
"I should feel insulted," he muttered in an amused voice, then waved his hand and glared at her; only then did Sakura notice how bright and blue his eyes really were. "Well then?" he encouraged her, looking at her with his sky-blue eyes that shone with a plea for her answer to be yes.
The pinkette thought hard. This weirdo named Naruto didn't seem unlikable, and more importantly, given the events of that morning on the bus and at school during class when she showed up, he appeared close to Sasuke. There was no better way to get at him more subtly than through a third person, and Naruto seemed like a suitable means to her, just as she had deduced that morning when he had frantically waved at her; she didn't know at that moment how much Naruto would be for her beneficial.
On the other hand, looking at it from another perspective, they didn't have to be close. On the contrary, they could have been two arch-rivals who hated each other from the bottom of their hearts, given the black-haired man's reaction to Naruto's presence when he mercilessly punched him over the head or when he kicked the chair, the blond was precariously standing on intending to inflict pain on him.
Sakura couldn't decide which option was right for the moment. However, she knew that whichever it was, she would have to be careful about many aspects.
If the blond was his friend, she had to be sure he didn't misunderstand. She couldn't let him think that Naruto was interested in her because that would automatically turn him away. Are you asking why? Simply because she often listened to something about the bro code, which consisted of not taking over their objects - girls, women - not sticking your nose into other people's affairs, and supporting each other in the most challenging moments. However, if they were friends and Naruto hadn't lied that the meeting he had just invited her to wasn't a date, maybe Sasuke knew who she belonged to Naruto's heart, so she wouldn't have to explain anything and her path to him would be free.
But damn, could she risk the latter option? According to the manuals, there were thousands of different ways and variations of how people would behave if their archenemy found a new person in their life. One of them would be a situation where Sasuke immediately hates her when he finds out about the friendship between the blonde and the pinkette. Just like that, simply on the principle that he voluntarily breathes the same air as Naruto. The other possibility that would be more helpful to Sakura was that if he saw her with Naruto, the mysterious black-haired man might take it as a challenge. To piss off his blonde rival and he would start going after her, he would court her.
The pinkette closed her eyes for a little while. Humans were, on the one hand, such simple creatures and yet so complex; there were always thousands and millions of possible variations of how one person would behave, while another could choose the opposite reaction to the same situation. The problem was that the human soul was unpredictable, sometimes erratic and reckless, sometimes calm and reasonable. And Sakura couldn't even guess which of the souls she was learning about belonged to Sasuke.
She opened her eyes again and squinted slightly as the sun shone on her face. The blond took a step to the right to use his tall frame to shade the unpleasant rays of the sun that were blinding the pinkette and burning her jade eyes. She gave him a small smile for his silent but kind gesture.
"I…" she began, but the blond cut her off once again, to which she bit her tongue in annoyance to keep from reprimanding him and shouting a barrage of stinging curses.
"Great!" the blond laughed, turning on his heel and taking a few steps to leave. "See you; I'll pick you up at seven." - however, he didn't look at the pink-haired girl, who was standing like a mute statue; he walked carefree on his way with his hands in his pockets, but later he pulled one of them out and raised it slightly above his head. He walked, showing her back, and waved goodbye in the distance.
The pink-haired girl could almost picture the blond smiling from ear to ear even though she couldn't see his expression. From his cheerful nature, the energy he put into her in that short time, his carefree, free-thinking, openness, and friendliness, Sakura immediately sensed that the blond would grow into her heart quickly. However, she could not evaluate whether it was good or bad for her then.
*.*.*.*.*.*
Later that evening, that same day, Sakura felt like she was losing her mind. Or at least lose their temper. Just a few minutes after she arrived home, she panicked.
Her little house was one big mess; books, notebooks, manuals, and catalogs were lying everywhere, covering the dining table, windowsills, the area reserved for sitting on chairs, and the couch. If she had not learned this house even from her earlier research, she would have thought it was pages full of information instead of the floor. The entire afternoon, once she got rid of her uncomfortable shoes, she read documents and papers that would give her at least a minimal idea of what an evening spent with a friend should look like.
She thought it would be a piece of cake, but she immediately found several books that were supposed to make her task more accessible, such as 'Friends - Time Together Is Important,' or even 'Tips and Tricks on How to Have Fun with Friends.' And there was a problem that, despite not wanting to admit it out loud, caused Sakura anxiety, madness, inner restlessness, and trembling.
Sakura had never had a human friend before.
Glancing sadly at the devastation of the house, she walked over to the couch, tossed a few similar books off its surface to make room for herself, and plopped down on it. She couldn't really find anything about how she should spend an evening with a stranger.
She found a few hints that she made mental notes to ask questions, asking a lot, and, once again, asking countless questions. The goal was to do a detailed analysis of Naruto, to find out what kind of relationship he had with Sasuke - and she hoped that positively because that way, assuming they were close, she could deduce and maybe count on the fact that the same or at least the black-haired man she came here for also likes similar things. The pinkette had her sitting on the floor right now, emotionally wrecked from the one evening she was supposed to spend with a human.
As much as she wanted to rid herself of the stressful thoughts of the upcoming meeting, things were getting worse for the pinkette as thoughts of the disheveled blond were replaced by unwanted thoughts of the black-haired Uchiha.
Does he remember her? – She shook her head. She knew it was impossible for some reason and would be a disaster, even if miraculously possible. And what's more, the worst part of it all turned out to be that even as she wooed herself, screaming at her mind that she mustn't think like this, she couldn't stop the small voice in her mind whispering to her how much she wished it could be that way – so that he would remember her, just as she remembered his deep black eyes, those eyes that for the rest of her life she could not replace, banish from her thoughts, memories and even dreams.
The front doorbell ringing unpleasantly snapped her out of her thoughts. At first, she didn't understand what it meant; she had never heard that sound, so how could she? She lived here alone, and no one had a reason to visit her; not even the neighbors living nearby knew they had someone new in this place; she had no way of knowing what her bell sounded like. But then it dawned on her, and she realized that the sound heralded the arrival of the long-awaited blond, who was standing outside the door and impatiently waiting for her to open the door for him, which he showed by how he kept his finger on the doorbell, the sound of which echoed in her ears while tapping with his other hand on the dark wood that formed the entrance to her house.
The pink-haired girl looked at the mess all around her with frightened eyes. She immediately jumped at the next ring when the knocking became a thump. She raised her right hand, and before she lightly circled her fingers to make the mess into a neat clean, she glanced at the window out of the corner of her eye to make sure it was clouded over and at the impatient blond whom she had no doubt would take the opportunity to look through it to determine if it was indoors, she didn't have to explain anything. Because of how all the books, magazines, folders, and scraps of pages lifted off the ground with ease, as if blown by a gentle breeze, and neatly stored away in various cabinets, organizers, and drawers, she would be really hard to explain.
Shaking off the last remnants of uncertainty, she took a deep breath and strode confidently to the door, where the blond pressed his finger to the doorbell at regular intervals that kept getting shorter and more intense, waiting for him to decide to let him in.
"Hel—"
"Damn it!" he exclaimed and immediately slipped into the house, leaving Sakura standing disappointedly with the doorknob in her hand at the still slightly ajar door. "There's so cold that would raise a dead man, dattebayo."
The pink-haired girl raised her eyebrows in incomprehension, peeked her head out of the door, and when she didn't find anything interesting, she returned and closed the door, looking at the blond. He rubbed his frozen hands against each other, crouching slightly, blowing warm air through his mouth into the opening between his palms. Her green eyes met sky-blue ones.
"The dead man doesn't raise," muttered the pinkette under her breath in displeasure.
The blond stopped what he was doing, a mischievous little smile on his face. "Trust me," he said in a deep voice with an air of mystery, his smile still widening, and Sakura found herself smiling too. "Even a dead man would come to warm himself if he could."
The pinkette shook her head and laughed lightly. After a few seconds, she stopped laughing and dreaded not knowing what to do next. She decided to improvise, hoping that human mannerisms and customs were not so different from theirs, the ones her mother had taught her. After all, they were both human at heart, weren't they?
"Watermelon?" asked cheerfully, to which she immediately fell silent when she saw the surprised look of her visitor; he raised his eyebrows curiously, obviously amused.
"Watermelon?" he repeated amusedly, stifling a light laugh that he didn't want to escape his mouth. The pink-haired woman nodded uncertainly; he just shook his head, smiling widely and putting his arms behind his head, which he leaned against like a pillow. "You're really weird," he stated shortly.
Sakura swallowed uncertainly and laughed nervously; she was about to say something like it was just a joke, that she didn't want to offer him a watermelon - but as usual, Naruto was faster.
"But you're lucky, I like weirdos," he added after a moment of silence, and the tense atmosphere - well, at least it seemed that way to Sakura - relaxed. "Let's go."
The pink-haired girl was surprised to find that spending the afternoon reading pointless manuals really wasn't worth it, at least not with Naruto.
The blond started the conversation, led it, and often ended it himself when he answered the questions asked. It wasn't that he was outright ignoring her or not listening; it was more like the blonde man was overly energetic and enthusiastic, as if he wanted to finish everything in one evening. She found herself somehow succeeding because in the short time, they sat on her couch eating sliced watermelon and listening to him, talking to him, she realized the blond had entered her heart. Not just because he was the only one she knew in this place, no - the blond was different; he was understanding, cheerful, happy ... mainly happy. And that's what Sakura fell in love with, his way of being happy; he didn't need gold, he didn't need admiration, he didn't need recognition, fame, or power; he enjoyed and was excited even by the little things that made up his little inner world.
"Listen, Sak," Naruto's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, apparently also pausing on something, something that had just popped into his mind, and he had to ask it out loud because, with his hyperactive, curious nature, he would probably be up all night he wouldn't sleep if he didn't say his question.
"Sakura is enough," the pink-haired girl warned him with a raised finger, but she had a playful smirk on her face that the blond could tell from the time they spent together that she was warning him, warning him about something, but not angry.
Sakura realized that she was glad that Naruto understood her tacit suggestion that instead of going out into the night and busy streets of Konoha, they should stay in her living room with bowls full of juicy red watermelon. She felt safe here, even though it wasn't her real home. The few walls and rooms felt like her refuge; she was not ready to face a crowd of people after one day apart from her new acquaintance.
"Sakura," he rolled his eyes but chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest and sprawled comfortably on the couch after placing the half-eaten bowl of red goodness on the coffee table in front of them. "Do you like Sasuke?"
The addressed girl stopped chewing when she heard the question spoken next to the blond sitting next to her, and she soon choked until she had to pat her chest lightly with her fist. With wide green eyes that flashed with confusion, she turned to the blond who was looking at her.
"Um," she swallowed the lump in her throat, awkwardly tucking a pink strand behind her ear. "Well, you know... "
"I know," the blond cut her off with a wave; Sakura opened her eyes even more with a frown. "It's clear to me from the first moment."
She tried to object but then realized it was pointless. She had already learned that if the blond made up his mind about something, it was impossible to convince him otherwise.
"Well, maybe. Why?" she added lightly, putting on a teasing tone. "Jealous?"
She rested her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands, and thought about how to continue the conversation to get her to what she needed to know. She had him almost there, exactly where she wanted him.
"Hardly. There's nothing to be jealous of," he snorted mockingly; the pinkette gave him a nasty look and punched him in the shoulder, and the blond just laughed happily and nodded as a sign that everything was even clearer.
"Do you know him?" she asked in a weak voice.
The blond raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Guess," he joked, referring to previous events. It wasn't until he noticed the growing confusion on his companion's face that he understood that he needed to be more direct, and riddles or hints were not precisely the pink-haired's forte. "Yes, I know him," he sighed. "Unfortunately."
This time, the pink-haired girl raised her eyebrows slightly, her confusion deepening at his last statement.
"That was a joke," Naruto laughed, running a hand through his hair. "He's my best friend."
"Really?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.
The blond hesitated for a moment, looking at her before finally nodding. "Yes," he continued. "And I his,"
"Really?" she repeated, this timeless confidently as she realized the blond's actions were consistent with a good, maybe even very intimate friendship. Still, compared to the others... the black-haired's actions, on the other hand, did not at all match the set model of friendship that she had studied— for God's sake, he was constantly beating him or knocking him to the ground!
The blond nodded again, then paused for a moment before speaking again. "I will introduce you!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air as if he had just made the latest discovery the world had never seen.
"No!" Sakura shouted back, shaking her head and biting her lip.
The blond looked at her again, sized her up, and then realized that speed dating was probably his thing. He realized that she had the same uncertain, embarrassed, and dismissive reaction to him, whether it was when they first met on the bus when he caught sight of her extravagant pink hair that caught his eye, or later when he caught up with her to make sure he didn't miss a chance to get to know her, because something—whatever it was—told him he wanted her in his life.
Don't get him wrong; he didn't fall in love at first sight. Sakura was beautiful, kind, exotic, and with a heart of gold, but his eyes belonged to only one woman. Anyone would characterize him as a hyperactive madman who will easily face any pitfalls and leap over any obstacle thrown at his feet. And it was true - he really was. Only in one sphere was he completely incompetent. Speaking out to the woman who held his heart in her hands for years because he knew he wasn't good enough for her isn't good enough to voice the question of whether she will want if she'll even be willing to give him hers.
"But…" the pinkette's quiet voice brought him back to reality; he looked up at her, lost in what they talked about just a moment ago. "Could you say something about him?"
"About Teme?" he asked, making sure Sakura hadn't drifted off to another galaxy in the conversation while he was dreaming. However, the pink-haired girl only looked at him uncomprehendingly at the name he used. She stared, and he realized why her reaction was like that, so he laughed merrily. "Sasuke," he reminded her to make the connection between him and the nickname he used.
She wasn't entirely sure if she correctly understood the connection between Sasuke, their friendship, and the strange nickname, but she decided not to voice her uncertainty out loud for this time and not to make up her mind about it. She already knew that she could ask Naruto anything, tell him anything without thinking about what words she would choose, what words would come out of her lips; he got very close all too quickly, but to her surprise, she didn't even mind.
"Yes," she said. "I would like to know more about Sasuke,"
"Hmm…" He struck a preoccupied pose, dramatically placing a finger on his chin and staring at the ceiling before speaking again after a moment. "No," he stated, shaking his head.
"Why not?" she didn't understand, demanding an explanation and frowning at her friend.
"If you love him, you must know him yourself," he said wittily with all the wisdom in the world, proudly lifting his chest.
"I don't love him," she objected immediately.
"If you say so," he waved. "It does not matter."
An awkward silence fell between them for a moment. The pinkette flipped through the pages in her mind on how to get information out of a person they didn't want to give without them noticing, without feeling pressured, so he thinks he actually wants to do it.
The blond, on the other hand, didn't regret his words. From the first moment, she offered him a juicy red watermelon when he sat down on the comfortable couch when he started talking to her lightly when he heard her laugh, her voice saw her bright jade eyes full of feeling and life, he knew - he was sure - that she is the one for Sasuke. She was the one who would be able to enter the cold and frosty heart of his best friend, teach his heart to beat in a regular rhythm again, teach him to beat for her.
"Sasuke is a bastard," he snorted as he made himself comfortable on the couch again, entwining his fingers over his stomach, putting his feet up on the coffee table so he wouldn't knock over the bowl sitting there, not missing the deepening frown on the pink haired face. "But I know him." He closed his sky-blue eyes briefly before opening them again and lazily turning to look at the pink-haired girl. "He is not what he seems."
*.*.*.*
Thank you very much for reading this chapter! Oh gosh, even though it took me many hours to translate, I'm sure there are probably a million grammatical errors and other nonsense that I'll apologize for in almost every chapter :D
See you in the next chapter, in which we will also meet Naruto's love. I'll translate it and add it as soon as possible.
Kisses
M