Strawberries (A Naruto Fanfic)

Chapter 18: Unprepared

Author's Note

Yes, I know. It has been a while. After the long wait I believe that this chapter is where things really start. Review, Fav, Follow if you want. I honestly just want you all to Enjoy!

Disclaimer= Not mine.

Furea's "house" is like a female version of a bachelor pad.

I look on in awe as I take in the sight of her well-furnished and brightly-lit home. I was so not expecting this.

The carpet we're standing on is pure white and feels soft and plushy under my shoes. Her walls are painted a deep blue-violet and are decorated with many small works of art and other knick-knacks.

She has no pictures, I notice briefly, still in a stupor.

Her little abode is furnished with the highest quality – and most costly – furniture. A large, queen-sized bed with lilac bedding sits at the far end of the room with a red dream-catcher above it and a wooden nightstand next to it. A distinct flat-screen television seems to be built into the wall on the far right-hand side of the room. A dark grey chaise couch and mirrored rectangular coffee table sit on the ground in front of the television, and a digital fireplace that serves as a heater for her home is built into the wall underneath it.

I slowly walk over to her kitchen, which is just behind the makeshift living room and has the sleekest appliances and a spotless, two-door refrigerator. Smooth, dark, wooden subway tiles adorn the kitchen floor, and I smooth my hands over the pristine, black countertop built into the wall. There are cupboards made with the same wood as the floor tiles, a sink, an electric coil stove and oven, a dishwasher, and other small appliances like a toaster and microwave that reside on the countertop. There's even a fake plant!

The house is around the size of a hallway, a bit shorter but more wide and minus the lockers.

"The bathroom is behind me, if you'd like to check that out, too," Furea says, oddly quiet, motioning behind her to a wooden door. She stands by the ladder from which we entered and I distinctly notice a dark-blue mountain bike held up on the wall next to the door.

It takes me a few moments of rapidly looking around to respond. "Uh, no – um, I'm fine."

"Okay," she says, sighing dejectedly and walking over to the couch to plop down on it. She heaves another big sigh.

I look over at her from the kitchen and steadily make my way over to where she's sitting on the couch. I sit down next to her and sigh as well, utterly exhausted. As soon as I sit, she moves to rest her legs on my lap, a habit she's developed after countless hours of watching T.V. together over time. I don't mind.

"Menma, I..." She closes her mouth for a few moments. "I'm sorry I didn't show you all this earlier."

"Screw that," I say quickly, trying to soothe her worries. "You showed me now. I'm just glad you can trust me with seeing your... house." Thinking for a few seconds, I ask, "Hm, should I call it a house?"

Furea laughs. "Call it whatever you want. This is my home. And it has been for about six years now."

"What do you mean? We're sixteen. If that were true, then you'd have been living alone since you were about ten years old." I chuckle at the ridiculousness as I say this.

"Exactly." Furea sits up a bit and looks me dead in the eye. Suddenly, I know she's serious.

"What..." I'm at a loss about what to say from here. This is confusing. Her life is confusing. Real life is confusing. All a part of this cursed reality we humans live in.