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There’s a tense atmosphere at the counter, and in a quaint Naruto-like fashion he indulges in this by glancing to his left, then to his right. Obnoxiously suspicious. Swinging his legs back and forth like a young child, perched on the edge of his stool, he drains the broth and slams the empty bowl down. Speckles of sloppy liquid land on Sasuke’s arm and possibly the side of his face, but his dark mane seems to prevent it – and also conveniently hides his irritation.
Huffing, Sasuke twists his lips at the tripe which passes for his friend’s “diet,” and takes a silent sip of sake. “Talk, or I’m leaving.”
Waving his arm in a panic, the blonde slaps his palm against Sasuke’s mouth and whispers, “Shhh. Someone might hear us.”
There’s a foreboding hiss, and Naruto flinches, taking back his hand to rub it carefully and bestow a pout; he forgets about angry, fire-breathing tendencies and other Uchiha-like quirks.
It has been a while, after all.
“So, I told you all about our side of the war before you got ‘ere, right?”
Without responding, his companion nods curtly, once.
“So you know it had a lot of complicated . . . well . . . feelings and stuff, and I don’t know what it all meant, but . . .” Letting out a frustrated groan, the blonde rubs his hair furiously until it stands on end, as if they were not obvious enough; everyone knows their names and stories, and to be seen together is almost as much gossip-fodder as his personal outings with Sakura.
“I think I messed up, Sasuke,” he whines. And while that’s a normal method of expressing his emotions, the Uchiha wonders if maybe there’s a serious note to these proceedings.
At least, he hopes so.
Now he’s squeezing Sasuke’s arm, and subsequently pushing his luck.
There’s a quick slap, and, tossing his dark hair with a petulant air, he snaps, “You have ‘til the count of three, idiot. One; two—”
Plunk.
A pause descends.
“ . . .”
“I know, I shouldn’t have done jumped to conclusions—”
“Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
Letting out a loud groan, Naruto’s face drops onto the counter and he tugs at his blonde locks again, murmuring childish curses under his breath as Sasuke’s unusually surprised expression is replaced by the longest possible eye-roll achieved by a human being. Tentatively, as if it might explode at first touch, he picks up the tiny velvet box and holds it at arm’s length.
“She’s different, Sasuke,” he begins. “She’s not like anyone else.”
“You know about ten women altogether. And half of them are spoken for.”
“She’s just special, I don’t even know how to explain how good she makes me feel. Doesn’t make much sense, though. She’s not even as much like Sakura-chan as I—”
“Don’t.”
“Sorry, sheesh, you’re touchy. Anyway, I didn’t think I would fall in love with her, I thought there was just no way. I always had a . . . different future in mind.”
It is only then that Naruto actually looks bashful, and even he can sense the fragility in the implication. Dreams of his female teammate flit across his ocean eyes, a movie reel of clichés and milestones that are hardly able to be hidden from Sasuke; he watches it play, struggling to keep his mental objections under control. She had been a shining star in the sky that fell just short of his reach; and in the resulting lull, while his eyes were unfocused and distracted, a shooting star had swept him into affection he had never known before.
The snap of tensed twine; Sasuke’s voice abruptly shatters the long-held rivalry of bright, vivid colors now faded, softened lines and blows.
“You said ‘love’.”
The blonde opens his mouth, but words do not sound. Raising his head to the ceiling and the sky beyond, he muses on it for a minute. Meeting his companion’s eyes again, he flashes a smile from ear to ear. “Yup, ‘cause I mean it!”
Sasuke makes a quiet noise; Naruto hopes it means approval.
“For once, don’t be a colossal idiot. I don’t care who it is, though I’m sure I know. Make sure you know what you’re doing.”
And for a moment they are close again, the past years melting into a caricature, a frivolous and lurid tale told in jest, a rumor of history. As if they are children again, verbally sparring over climbing trees and failed techniques, and he never chose to leave. If either one envisioned they would be sitting, drinking, eating, discussing such upheavals as marriage and love, well, even their Sensei would have had to think a second before taking the unlikely bet.
Chasing one another, and what they could not have, forever.
“Make sure … it’s real.”
“I never thought you would have to be the one saying that to me, you jerk. I thought for sure you would be the one who needed my advice!” The blonde’s hearty laughs nearly drown out his best friend’s response:
“Hn. You might still have to.”
Though he pulls a pained face, the Uchiha raises his small sake glass; Naruto smashes the ramen bowl against it and yells, “Another round!”
Sasuke rolls his eyes again as passive thoughts swirl in his mind. Marriage. He’s been hearing the gossip, and Sakura indulged and simultaneously subjected him to a play-by-play of every moment she’s witnessed in all these years leading up to it.
The Hyuuga girl would be good for him; smirking, he almost feels proud.
Knock, knock.
Only a single light illuminates the door, revealing his nervous and twitchy hand. With nothing to do, it hovers in the air; the other one is nearly crushing the velvet box in his fist, held tightly to the small of his back.
The door opens. Lips pursed, she asks, “Naruto?”
“H-H-H-Hi!” he stammers, a wide grin plastered across his whiskered face. Eyes scrunched closed, his ‘heh’ ‘heh’ ‘heh’s fade as she sags against the doorframe and rubs her eyes with the heels of tired hands.
“What do you want?” Ino groans.
“W-would you like to take a, um, moonlight stroll, I m-mean, a walk, just a normal walk, an everyday—”
“You’re trying too hard.” Pulling a jacket around her shoulders, she steps outside and shuts the door. Within his space, he feels a dash of heat across his face and keeps his back away from her watchful, thankfully exhausted, ocean eyes.
“Let’s just go,” she sighs. Linking her arm in his, irritated lines smooth into a cheeky smile. Grinning, she asks, “So, what’s the occasion?”