my one in million

chapter 3

Sasuke glared at the empty shelf in front of him, the basket that hung off his arm was empty save a bag of tomatoes. "How can there be no pasta?" He growled at the empty space. "Noodles, ramen, rice, but no pasta." Maybe if he glared hard enough, a pasta package would materialize out of thin air so he could take it.

He hated cooking, but also hated Ichiraku's ramen and was too proud to sit for a free meal with the rest of Konoha's working population.

In the end, he decided to grab a bag of bread and a jug of juice before heading to the only counter. Seeing as this was the only convenient store currently open in the village, everybody did their shopping here and supplies didn't last long. It was Seven at night and not many were in line, but the guy at the front was wasting everyone's time by chatting with the clerk about the weather.

Sasuke sighed and watched the hair of the person in front of him dance in response, and as if slapped with a wet towel, he realized that the one girl he'd been avoiding the whole time was standing right in front of him.

It's been weeks since he'd last seen her, why did she have to be here now? Oh, right, she probably hadn't noticed he was there, she'll just get her basket unloaded, pay for her stuff, and then go home.

Right.

He didn't want to see her or talk to her or think about her, everything about her annoyed him.

She was hard to understand.

Her body was difficult to evaluate because of the baggy, unflattering clothes she wore everyday.

She was the daughter of the one person who agreed to loan the Hokage his whole clan in order to accompany him on a ghost hunt outside Konoha. Of course, that said a lot about the clan leader's dedication to keep the village safe, but it said nothing about him coming back alive.

There was also the fact that the few times he and Hinata ever met, they'd always get into some argument; it was a waste of his time.

His eyes studied the long hair that trailed down her gray shirt, the edges were cropped straight but were slightly damp. No wonder, it's been raining nonstop for a while now. Her shirt stopped mid-thigh where an even uglier pair of track pants covered her legs to the ankles.

If one looked at her now, they would never believe she's the spoiled princess of the village's most obnoxious clan.

A small bag in her loaded basket caught his attention, and he tilted his head slightly to read what was visible on the translucent container: pasta.

He had to take a deep breath then breathe out slowly, twice.

He hated Irony.

Hinata stepped forward as the guy at the front finally got his bag and left and the line proceeded; he followed.

What to do?

If he asked her to give it to him, it'll seem desperate and intrusive; he didn't want to strike up conversation unless he absolutely had to. But then again, he'd been eating ramen and rice all month and today, when he finally decided to satisfy the craving for tomato pasta, they were fresh out of pasta.

Suddenly, the girl turned slightly to look him in the eye. "Sasuke san, it's been a while." She greeted softly, as if she wasn't sure she should be talking to him.

"Mm." Ignore her? Or get the pasta? "Pretty empty store, huh?"

Her smile was unsure. "Yes. I- Is there something wrong with my basket?"

Damn it, of all the people in the world, he had to get in line behind someone with eyes on the back of their head. "Not really."

"I see…" She turned away and was quiet.