I was watching a movie and got inspired to write this. This is kind of a high school story, and if you have seen the movie, some things will be changed to fit this story. The movie is called Some kind of Wonderful, which I don't own. WARNING characters may be very OOC.
So I don't own Naruto OR some Kind of Wonderful.
A young man walks down the dusty streets. A slow, aimless walk. He is lost and lonely, a setting sun at his back. He is handsome in a rugged and mysterious way. But for now he is alone. His face is blank, but inside great sadness and confusion dwell. His name is Huuga Neji.
She's throwing kunai at a target. Hard, precise and serious, with a great purpose and need. She is some what boyish and tough; her prettiness is intentionally buried beneath acres of attitude. This is Tenten, weapons mistress.
Beautiful girl, handsome boy, perfection meets perfection. Making out by the old tree, near their training field. She's Haruno Sakura, and he's Ulchia Sasuke.
A freight train is thundering down the tracks. A horn blasts. The boy we saw before, Neji, continues down the tracks. The train is bearing down on him. Neji is walking into the approaching train, the horn blasts again. Neji watches the train with no reaction. A collision with the train will only give him what he wants. Change. The train shudders and rocks on the tracks. The horn blasts and holds this time. Still Neji's face remains emotionless. It's nearly on him, but he steps out off the tracks at the last moment. Neji heads down the embankment as the train hurtles past, his face exactly the same as before.
In a lower middle class neighborhood it is late afternoon. The homes of the working people are colored in the beautiful reflecting light of the setting sun. A black corvette is parked in the driveway of one of the houses. It stands out among the more utilitarian vehicles on the street. The door to the house opens and out walk the same two people that were making out earlier. Her shirt is untucked, and her hair is very messy. Her face is flush, almost to the point of matching her candy colored hair. He's in a hurry, done with her, on to other things. She pulls him back and kisses him, but there is no tenderness on his part, it is one sided.
Neji is across the street, leaning on a lamp post. His gritty hands wrapped around the pole. Washed but never clean. A hint of anger, a touch of resentment are soon concealed behind his mask. Sasuke doesn't belong in this part of the village, and certainly doesn't deserve the girl.
Sasuke gets in his car, fires up the engine and backs out of the driveway. Sakura waves goodbye from the porch. Sasuke drops the corvette into gear and squeals away. An irresistible show of disrespect for this part of the village.
There is something tragic about Neji's expression. Sasuke has everything money can buy and now he is stealing the things it can't. Neji watches as Sakura goes back inside the house. His observation is careful and considering. He looks at his greasy hands, too dirty to touch her. He pushes off the pole and starts his way back home. Neji's home is in a modest neighborhood, clean but simple. Neji cuts across the freshly mown lawn, up the driveway and around the back of the house. Neji's aunt is at a small built-in desk beneath a wall phone, balancing her checkbook. She is wearing Huuga whites, and is cooking diner. A shy girl, the year younger then Neji sits at the counter. She is cutting carrots that will go into the salad that she is making. His aunt addresses him without looking up.
"Hi, Honey. How was work?"
Neji exits into the dining room.
"You still haven't told me when you're going to cut your hair." She says.
"Mother, yo-your t-elling him t-his in v-vain. You know t-that h-he l-likes to go by H-huuga t-t-tr-tradition." Hinata says.
Neji crosses into the foyer. His Uncle calls to him from the living room.
"Neji? Is that you?"
Neji stops at the bottom of the stairs, and sighs. Caught. He swings around and steps into the living room. Neji's uncle. Hiashi, is sitting on the couch. Spread out in front of him are University brochures. Neji looks at his uncle and the brochures. He is suspicious. Hiashi speaks without looking at Neji.
"I've been checking out colleges…" He looks up at Neji.
"Aren't you a little too old for college?" Neji says with his trademark smirk.
Hiashi gives Neji an incredulous stare. Incredulous that Neji can be so cavalier about a subject that Hiashi considers vital, pressing and overwhelmingly serious. There's no humor to his retort.
"If I had gone to college, I wouldn't be selling tires six days a week." Hiashi is very serious. "If you don't get with the program, you'll be selling tires too. Just look at a few brouches, a bunch came in the mail today."
"Can I do it later?" this is the Neji wants to do. But Hiashi has been put off before.
"I' not trying to break your back, I just want you to get off the dime and think about your future." Hiashi said.
Neji nodes, he's heard this all before. Hiashi adds one more thought the main college issue. "You'll be the first man in this house who won't have to wash their hands after work."
Neji knows, all too well. He shows off his hands to Hiashi. Their dirty, motor dirty, like Hiashi said. He pushes off the arch of the door and heads back to the foyer. He heads upstairs, side-stepping the debris piled on the stairs to be carried up at anyone's convenience. Neji opens his door and stops cold. Neji's younger cousin, Hana, is sitting on the floor going through his records. LP's are out of their sleeves, and she is rudely holding an LP, looking at the label.
Neji's room is a shrine to art. It's a serous shelter from the outside world. One wall is covered, every inch, with reproduction posters, art show posters, art postcards, reproductions torn from books and magazines. A collage of the History of Art. A second wall is devoted to his own sketches, and the third wall is a trompe l'oeil of an endless marble gallery. The forth wall is hung with his own canvases. A stereo carefully put together out of discarded pieces and parts. His bed is a mattress on the floor. A chair direct from the dump in the corner, a rug from off the curb during spring trash pick up day lays on the floor. A desk is made from an old door, held up with two oil drums is near the bed. The surface of the desk is covered in sketches and Indian ink pens and brushes, ink bottles. Clay and plaster models and studies. Everywhere are found objects, things intended for future pieces and studies. It is an artist's studio in a boy's bedroom. There's no question from his surroundings that he's serious about his talent.
"I'm looking for that song about the guy that killed himself for that girl who hated his guts." Hana said as she looked up at Neji. Neji is furious, but keeps his emotions hidden like usual. Hana either doesn't notice his anger or disregards it. (The later) "Do you know which song I'm talking about?"
Neji takes the LP away from Hana saying "Do you understand the concept of privacy?"
"Yes, I do. That's why I don't let anyone in my room." She replies.
"Get out of here before I throw your ass out the window."
"Man, are you in a bad mood!" Hana says outraged,
"Get out of here." Neji continues
"Is this a side effect of being massively unliked or…?" Hana said
Neji grabs Hana by the arm and pulls her to her feet. He then walks over to the door and shoves her out.
"If I get a black and blue monger, you're dead!" But Neji slams the door on her, cutting off any sound that she continued to make.
The family is eating dinner, and Hana is showing her arm to her mother. "Look at it. You see what he did to me?"
Her mother looks "I don't see anything,"
"Then I guess you need glasses. If I had wanted to sit outside on a nice sunny day and get a tan, I couldn't wear a bathing suit."
"You should be c-careful H-Hana, e-exposing your skin to sunlight w-will make y-you o-old be-before y-your time." Hinata said.
The Hiashi interjects into the conversation. "Hana stay out of his room. And Neji, if she is causing you trouble come to me before you act rashly."
"What right does she have to break into my room? And I did not act rashly." Neji commented.
"I have practically no feeling left in the upper part of my arm," Hana said
"Drop it." Hiashi commanded.
"Just once I wish you guys could experience the humiliation of having the weirdest guy in a huge school is a blood relative." Hana said.
"Your father said drop it."
"The whole family revolves around Neji. I'm sick of it."
Neji set down his fork and napkin as his Aunt spoke "That's not true and you know it."
"I'll be upstairs." Neji says as he excuses himself from the table.
"But you haven't finished your dinner."
Neji leaves the room, but Hiashi calls after him "What about these colleges, Neji?" he waits for an answer, when none come he continues "I expect an answer."
"Do you know what a total waste of money it's going to be letting him go to college? He'll have this expensive education that he'll never use because all he wants to do is make incredibly ugly art that won't ever look good in anybody's house." Hana mumbles. And Hiashi and his wife stare at her "Am I wrong?"
Neji is sitting at his desk, looking at a tattered photo. It's a candid snapshot of a girl looking back over her shoulder with a caught expression on her face. She is a beautiful girl, the girl he sees at school everyday, with her jerk boyfriend. Sakura. Neji drips his brush in ink and applies it to paper. His steady hand draws the sweep of a girl's neck and shoulder. Another produces a fine, strong jaw line. There is a hint of a smile on Neji's face as he looks at his first strokes.
That's it for this chapter. And I just want to say that I personally HATE sakura. So there may be some Sakura bashing in later chapter. And for all you Neji Tenten fans out there, it will come, I promise. Please review, I hope you liked it.