мοrι ηo κο 『森の子』

One | | Nuisances

》Dιsсlαιмεя: I own no Canon characters that shall be used within this story。Only the OCs, as well as the setting in which the beginning of this tale will take place。 All other things within the Narutoverse belong to none other than the marvelous, Masashi Kishimoto。READ ONWARD, LOVELIES! ( ' ▽ ' )ﾉ

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Nearly four years had passed since the festival. Midori had went up in four years of age, she was now a whopping eight years old. Her attire had also undergone a slight change: from the girl's normal white yukata, to a creamy-colored, short-sleeved t-shirt, with baggy grey bottoms, and a pair of wooden geta sandals. This year was also to be the year she began her training in the ways of the shinobi as well as her training in Mokuton, or Wood-Style.

The blonde sat alone within the town's main dango shop, Kimi ni Dango, awaiting her order to arrive at her table for four. Sighing, she blew her nose-length bangs out of her face and examined the room, her tired emerald eyes lingering only for a moment on each laughing, chattering face. Where the heck are you, Masahiko-kun? she wondered, internally groaning.

"Order's up!" exclaimed a cheerful, elderly woman, her eyes closed as she placed the two glass trays on either side of the table---one before Midori and the other where Masahiko would be sitting.

The young girl glanced up at the woman, closed her eyes and bowed her head, her hands clapped together. "Thank you so much for the food," she said, smiling.

"It was no trouble, Midori-chan," said the woman, grinning and rubbing the blonde's shoulder. "How long is he going to be?" she asked, her ebony eyes fixated on the empty seat in front of Midori. "I wouldn't want his dumplings to get cold on him."

Midori shrugged, picking up her skewer and biting off the first luscious dango. "Masahiko-kun's never been on time." she murmured.

"Oh dear," said the woman, patting compassionately on Midori's back, "boys will always do that."

Midori's face drew a blank as she stared at the green dango in front of her mouth. Boys will . . . always do what? she wondered, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your dango, Midori-chan!"

The girl snapped out of her dazed state as she heard the papers rustle that dangled from the stall's wide doorway. Carrying her gaze over to see who it was, she spotted Masahiko, his dark hair tied back into a high, tight ponytail and hazel eyes searching the room before landing on his friend. "Mido-chan!" he exclaimed, waving as he walked over to her.

Midori shook her head and smiled as she bit off the last dango on her skewer.

Masahiko sat down in front of her and gave her a broad grin. "Ah heh," he said, chuckling as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for being late, Mido-chan."

The blonde closed her eyes and picked up her glass of green, luminescent sencha tea. "You're always late, Masahiko-kun," she muttered, taking a sip of the warm, caffeinated beverage.

He blushed and took a slow drink of his tea, attempting to shove aside his embarrassment. "M-My mom forgot to wake me up," he reprimanded, his hazel eyes averted from Midori's scrutinizing gaze.

"A shinobi should never be late," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're too stupid to understand that, though, aren't you, Masahiko-kun?"

The boy frowned and situated the short sleeve to his tan yukata. "You don't have to be so mean, Mido-chan. I was helping my older brother with chopping the wood and stacking it before I could come here." he said, his voice sounding hurt.