NOTE: I do not own Naruto. This is a fan-made book. Nothing more. Enjoy!
His rubber boots ran across the sidewalk, splashing water in puddles. Brandon clutched his jacket, air hitting his face like a cold bullet to the face. He ran to a candy store, and went inside. He had a backpack under his coat. The manager looked at Brandon, eyeing him suspiciously.
"What do you want, kid?" The manager asked.
Brandon held out his hand. "Brandon Stone, I have a delivery for a J. Hiltz."
The manager smiled. "Sorry, kid. Didn't mean for the cold shoulder."
Brandon shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. Here's the package." Brandon took out a brown package, totally unharmed.
The manager widened his eyes. "Why, it looks like it hasn't even been scratched. Good job kid! Thanks!"
Brandon nodded. "Not a problem. It's my job. Just sign this paper." Brandon took out a clipboard. The manager signed it, smiling.
Brandon slung up his backpack and put on his jacket. "Thank you for your time." Brandon smiled.
The manager held up his hand for him to stop. He reached under his booth and tossed Brandon a blue candy bar. "You know something kid?" He said, a kind expression on his face. "Sometimes we let our judgement get the best of us. Stereotypical people really are not that great."
Brandon looked at the manager in a weird way.
The manager walked up to Brandon. "I guess what I'm saying is...I never knew teenagers like you could be so nice." He said.
Brandon nodded. His stomach hurt. "Thanks. I gotta go." He said. Brandon left the store.
Brandon sighed. A lot of people were like that these days. Teenagers were nothing but trouble. Arrogant punks who know nothing but mass destruction. Yep...that's the teens of this generation. Brutal, cold hearted beasts.
Brandon felt gloomy running in the rain. But what the manager said touched him. He understood him.
Brandon was the delivery boy for his town. He never got an allowance, his father never gave it to him. He was always getting drunk at some bar or pub. So, Brandon applied for a job as a delivery boy in order to earn money. And he got it. Brandon worked hard at his job and delivered as much as he could in one day. During school and homework, he was pretty busy.
Not only that, Brandon had to live without his mother's love. He only saw his mom rare occasions, his birthday or Christmas. Brandon loved his mom. But he spent most of his time with his dad because the people who filed the divorce didn't know two shits. They thought his dad was the good guy. Stupid bastards.
Brandon stopped at a thin brown building. It looked run down, broken, and poor. This was his dad's house. Brandon entered the house.
Brandon took off his shoes, picked them up, and web upstairs. If his shoes were in the porch, his dad would know he was here, and would beat him.
Brandon ran to his room, and closed the door. He took out his clipboard, and thumbed through the papers. He had another delivery to make tonight. But before that, he had to pick up his paycheck. Then he would make the delivery.
Thumps echoed through the house. Brandon remained dead silent. He spoke not a word. He heard low sounds downstairs.
Phew, he thought. His dad had friends here. Nothing to worry about now.
Brandon cracked open a book of his. It was a black book, closed with a key lock. Brandon idolized this book. It was a detective mystery. HIS detective mystery. 250 pages of it. And he was proud of it. Brandon spent at least a month and a half on this book. The plot was simple: A government official is wound up dead in his office, assassinated by an unknown target. The detective goes on a huge hunt for the murderer and attempts to bring him to justice, and succeeds. Brandon kept this book, even though it was a year old. He hoped to become a writer one day. Writing books came very simple to Brandon. He wanted to consider it a profession, and he'd make lots of money selling his books. He just needed to get through school first.
Brandon read this book for about an hour. Every day, he would read this book. It never got old. When he was finished, he'd turn to the beginning again. Brandon knew this book had potential. He was absolutely sure of it.
Suddenly he looked at his watch, and picked up a T.V. remote. He turned on the T.V. Naruto was playing.
Brandon also liked Naruto a lot. He loved the series, and played all the games at his friend's house. Brandon even tried to make a Naruto drawing. He drew Kakashi Hatake. It was a marvelous job. And he watched the series every time he knew it was on. His favorite character would have to be the 4th hokage. He was pretty powerful, and his yellow flash ability was amazing, along with his other powers. That, and he had an amazing son. Naruto.
Brandon awed at the show. It was the episode where Naruto fought the leader of Pain, Yaiko. That was a pretty epic fight. Brandon smiled.
Brandon then heard a ring from his cell. He answered. "Hello?" He said.
"Hello, Brandon? This is Paul, from the delivery office! I'll be at my office tonight at 8;30 sharp! So you can deliver that other package you have, then come to the office to collect your pay for the last 2 weeks!"
"Sure." Brandon said. He shut off his phone.
He lay back on his bed, the T.V. still on. Brandon would deliver the package at 8. Then arrive at the office and see if he could get into a restaurant after he collected his pay.
He felt sleepy, and turned off the T.V. Brandon needed rest. His eyes drooped. With one last look at his wall, he drifted off to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Brandon In Naurto
FanfictionBrandon's life kind of sucks. Forced to fend for himself, he struggles to keep himself calm while dealing with a past divorce from his family. Little by little, the tides slowly turn for the worse. However, one night, everything changes. Brando...