Naruto Shippuden: girl from whirlpools

Sarutobi Ren

Chapter Twelve: Sarutobi Ren

Kushina's house was like something out of a fairytale. When he'd learnt of its existence, he'd naturally assumed it would be like any teenager's first rented home – on the low-end of the market, incredibly cheap with a side of rising damp. And perhaps it had been that way when she'd moved in, but it was clear from the moment he stepped through the door with all his worldly possessions in a box beneath his arm, that Kushina had worked herself to the bone to make this dainty little house the nicest on the street.

The first thing that struck him was the smell – a mix between soap and perfume and fresh, sweet flowers. It couldn't have been more obvious that a pair of girls had lived in this house, and he wondered how long after he moved in it would start smelling of old socks and mouldy food the way his tent on the border had. Then there was the lightness of the rooms, and soft furniture that – although was cheap – were all so carefully cared for they looked like quality. It was also incredibly tidy. A bowl of flowers sat on the table behind the sofa and ornamental objects lined the bookshelves instead of books. He looked around in faint amazement as Kushina fidgeted behind him, awaiting his approval.

Perhaps it was because Kushina had lived for so long without possessions, and certainly without anything nice to call her own, that she took especial pride in this house and all the things in it. For someone on her wages, she must have scrounged and saved every penny, investing almost all of it into her home. Then there was the tiny little garden outside the living room that could only have been made so beautiful with a heavy investment of time and energy, not just money.

He looked out the window at the flowerbeds full of colour and then back at Kushina. "You like gardening?" he asked.

"It's my hobby," she said, looking back stolidly like she was daring him to make something of it.

"This is really nice," he said, which he felt was bit of an understatement. 'Nice' was something you said about an average house to someone whom you didn't wish to offend. This was picturesque, but he didn't want to be too enthusiastic in case Kushina thought he was pulling her leg. "Where's my room?"

She took him upstairs and pointed it out. "This one used to be my room," she said, "but Mikoto's had a nicer view so I moved into hers when she left. This is bigger though, so..."

He looked around the simply furnished room, with its narrow bed beneath a sloping ceiling and skylight window, and he bit his lip. It smelled very strongly of Kushina in here.

"You can have the other room if you like," Kushina babbled. "But I figured, you're a boy, you probably want the space to spread out and do... boy stuff."

What did she think boys got up to in their rooms? Minato smiled gratefully and said it would do just nicely, and when she suggested he could change anything he liked about the room to make it more comfortable, he jokingly asked if he could paint it pink. Kushina just looked pained.

There wasn't much to move in. His clothes left most of his new wardrobe almost as bare as when he'd arrived, and he filled most of the drawers in his rather feminine dresser with weapons and maintenance accessories. The only possessions he'd taken from his old house were his navy-blue bed clothes (he just couldn't bear to actually use the flowery print ones Kushina offered) and Mr. Nose in all his noseless glory.

Once settled, Kushina lay down the ground rules. Rent was monthly and had to be given to her on time or else he was out. There was to be no loud music after nine in the evening or he was out. The floorboards of the stairs squeaked loudly whenever anyone used them, so if he ever returned to the house after she'd gone to bed, he would have to climb in through his own bedroom window or else he was out. No putting feet up on the coffee table. Drinks must always be put on coasters. Everything in the top two shelves of the fridge was hers, and if she found anything missing he would be out. She would not buy his food, cook his dinner, wash his clothes, or clean his room. He would have to do these things himself, and if she didn't think he was doing an adequate job, he would be out then too.