Menma. [Sasunaru]

14.

Naruto's POV.

The flight from Japan to New York lasted fourteen hours and one minute. Fourteen hours of Menma asking permission to go to the bathroom every ten minutes, and me being forced to guide him there.

As much as I despised him acting like a spoiled child, I didn't have the right to scold him for his juvenile behavior. He was exhausted, and of course, bored to death.

So I tried to maintain my kindness even if it annoyed me, and politely took him to the bathroom where, I suspected, he stared at the ceiling or searched for the “mysteries” hidden within the drawers of the sink for nearly five minutes before he exited, stretched his arms, and said, “Nothing better than releasing your anger,” which he believed was the greatest rhyme ever invented in history, which I'm not sure if it could even be considered a rhyme since it didn't rhyme, and proceeded to grab my hand tightly, showing off that bright smile of his.

And he repeated this many times that I accidentally forgot to keep track of.

Now, as I grabbed my glistening orange suitcase to exit the plane, I secretly wished he would, at least one last time, ask me to take him to the bathroom and smile at me the way he always did. The reason was because, perhaps, I was too nervous I couldn't properly stand without my knees shaking and needed comfort; or simply because I was extremely jealous—and hopelessly in love—of that contagious positivity.

It wasn't going to be the last time I saw Menma, so I have no clue as to why I felt the way I did, but it would probably continue for the next couple of hours.

Perhaps the reason was because I was aware of the drastic change our lives were going to go through.

“Uzumaki Naruto!” Someone spoke, a lazy New York accent decorating the resonance of, what sounded like, a man's voice. I searched every corner of the small room, until my eyes landed on the figure of the guy—the only guy besides Menma and me—in the deserted inside of the plane.

He wore an expensive black suit, with obscure shades hiding his eyes.

I couldn't help but think about Men in Black, and how ridiculous he looked, and, unfortunately, that sudden thought caused me to giggle.

I stopped when his jaw tightened.

“Yeah, that's me,” I said, dubious.

“I'm here to take you to the Leaf Modeling Agency,” He said loudly, with the intention of being and making his intentions clear. “Sir Orochimaru couldn't personally take you, so he sent me.”

How nice.

-

Menma's head was on my lap, the rest of his body on the surface of the back seat. I was left with little space, but I didn't mind. Watching him sleep was keenly adorable, with the corner of his lip painted with a white layer of drool, and soft sounds were released from his mouth.

Just as I was about to begin passing my fingers through his raven hair, the car we were in abruptly stopped. I immediately looked up.

The man from earlier, whose name I discovered was Suigetsu, got out of the vehicle and proceeded to open the door for me.

I gently picked up Menma in my arms, stepping into the warm and welcoming air of the city. After closing the door, Suigetsu beckoned me to follow him.