alleyway encounter
“The next stop is Shinjuku. Shinjuku. The doors on the right side will open. Please change here for the Chuo line, the Shonan-Shinjuku line, the Saikyo line, the Odakyu...”
Naruto sighed loudly, and groaned even louder in the hopes that someone would at least glare at him for making such a ruckus on the Yamanote line, but the train was packed with the first wave of the early morning rush hour, and in classic Tokyo fashion were more absorbed in appearing empty than even working themselves up to be pissed at him.
“Man, you all are so boring,” he whined. Still, no one acknowledged him. The salarymen were asleep in their seats or standing with blank expressions, bulky suitcases tucked close to their bodies. Some other high school students his age were listening to music or on their phones, enjoying their last bits of freedom before they went off to school or morning jobs. He made sure to leer at a particularly weird looking man who kept staring at a busty high school girl with long black hair, making sure to communicate his killing intent when the man made eye contact. He didn’t look at the girl again, and Naruto felt particularly proud of himself.
He filed out of the train into the chaos that was Shinjuku station, the endless crisscross of millions of humans, all up to
incredibly
boring
shit.
Naruto yawned widely as he exited the train station, his arms outstretched. He nearly hit a balding, middle-aged man in a frumpy suit as he did so and for the first time in a couple days he felt a little alive as the man glared at him and muttered, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Yawning. Good morning to you too, sir!” he chirped, and delightedly the man scowled at him even more before rushing off to wherever his stupid corporate job was. Naruto didn’t consider himself a particularly combative person usually, but August had been so unbearably hot and he was just so bored of the tedium of his life.
It was the end of summer. The sun was just starting to stretch its light across the sky but there was still a sizable amount of grey left. Naruto checked his watch, pleasantly surprised with his early arrival today from his nondescript apartment near Uguisudani, in the northwestern part of Tokyo.
It was only a short walk out of the station to the cafe he had been working all summer. He hadn’t told the shopkeeper, Jiraiya, about his plans yet but the old man had also not mentioned anything about the school year having started three days ago despite the blond’s full day shifts. Even though the old man groused at him for one thing or another, Naruto knew gramps was a kindred spirit, with his extraordinarily long white hair and long streaks of red face paint he applied every day that extended from the bottom of his eyes to a point at the bottom of his face. It was like Jiraiya wanted to remind everyone he had been a pioneer of the Japanese rock scene, even though he had really only been a decent bassist for a short-lived band before all the big ones really blew up. Naruto rubbed that in only occasionally, opting to tease the man for his actual notoriety as the author of the trashy romance series, Icha Icha. Highbrow reviewers regularly panned his latest installments, but Naruto always had to smile and distract the fanclub of swooning middle-aged housewives before Jiraiya came in and tried to seduce them, so the blond took great delight in talking shit about the novels whenever he had a chance as revenge.
Naruto turned a corner onto one of the quieter streets in Shinjuku. There weren’t a lot of other storefronts, aside from a bookstore run by the Nara family, the flower shop run by the Yamanakas, and the Akimichi All You Can Eat & Drink Barbecue & Bar. It was considered a historic alleyway, as the three families had been living in that part of Shinjuku for generations now, and tourism in the alley fluctuated on both season and interest in historical aspects of the city. Naruto got along well with the children of each families, even though they had only met that summer, but he saw them infrequently—Shikamaru’s father had recently passed away so he had taken over actually managing the country-wide business, Ino had left that summer for an ikebana retreat out in Kyoto and had been busy with school since she returned, and Chouji was busy training for the weightlifting division in the Olympic Trials with his friend Rock Lee, although Naruto didn’t entirely believe that lean, scrawny kid with the bowl cut could qualify for any sport.
The ero-sennin was probably still sleeping at this hour on the third floor of the building in his apartment, but Naruto fished out his keys and unlocked the café door.
Even though he had been bristling on the train at all those annoying people who refused to acknowledge anything about the world, he really liked working at Myoubokuzan Bakery & Café and he didn’t mind the early morning hours when he had the whole place to himself. He could play his music as loud as he wanted, and do whatever he wanted as most customers didn’t arrive until forty minutes after opening. Naruto threw on his burnt orange apron with brown leather pockets over his graphic tee shirt and slim black joggers, and got to work tidying up the storefront.
“Ohayou, Naruto-kuuuun,” a voice called loudly from the back. “Can you bring these pain au chocolat and fruit sandos to the case please? I’m in a hurry!”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here, Anko-san. I thought you’d just drop the pastries off in the back like usual.”
The woman winked at him as she stood in the doorway, pulling her vibrant purple hair into a ponytail. “You’re early, Naruto-kun. And I am running a little late. All these food delivery services are throwing me off schedule.”
Naruto sidestepped her and gathered the boxes of pastries into his arms.
“You think your mysterious handsome man will show up today?” she asked, and he nearly dropped everything, fumbling to rebalance himself.
“What the hell, Anko?”
She giggled. “Oh I just love it when you drop the honorific, Naruto-kun, it makes me feel so young!” The woman pulled on her motorcyclist’s gloves, fingerless and black and picked up her helmet as she made her way to the back door. “You know who I mean, the man in the mask! I saw the way you practically ogled the last time he walked by.”
Naruto knew he couldn’t hide his feverish blush, so he just turned away from her, busying himself with the arrangement of pastries. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just curious what he does for a living. He’s in this alley once a week picking up books from the Naras.”
“You haven’t asked?”
“I wouldn’t ask anyone but Shikamaru but he’s been gone for a couple weeks now handling things in the south.”
“Well,” she sighed, her light brown eyes leering at him as she said singsong, “you never know~! Mata ne, Naruto! Can’t be late for my next delivery!”
He waved at Anko as she ran out the back door and sighed. What a woman.
The two silver bells on the door jangled as Naruto was pouring fresh coffee beans into the coffee maker. “Irrashaimase!” he shouted instinctively. “We just opened a few minutes ago, so I can get you drip coffee but I’ll need a little more time if you’d like the espresso machine.”
A deep, pleasant voice responded. Despite himself, a quick thrill ran up the back of Naruto’s neck. “A short wait is okay. If I can get two lattes with oat milk, little foam, and uh, three drip coffees, please. And some pastries.”
“Yes sir! Would you like a tray with—” Naruto’s voice caught in his throat as he turned around to look at his customer.
It was the “mysterious handsome man” Anko had mentioned. He was a fairly tall individual of solid build, with jagged silver hair that seemed…natural? That or he spent hundreds of dollars in Harajuku for an excellent dye job, the way the silvery highlights shimmered in the morning light. But the man didn’t seem that old, maybe in his later thirties, at the oldest. He wore a black mask that covered the bottom of his face. While he wore a light blue button-down with black slacks, which wouldn’t necessarily distinguish him from any of the other salarymen who worked in Shinjuku, his tie was skinny and dark grey, and he had a similarly grey suit jacket draped over one of his arms. He looked slightly too casual but also neater than expected for someone to be working corporate. Naruto couldn’t remember the last time he saw a salaryman in a decent suit, and so he wasn’t quite sure what this man’s profession would be. When Naruto made direct contact with his dark eyes, he noticed a scar that split down his left eye. The man eye-smiled at him, and the café worker felt his heart skip.
“A tray would be helpful, thank you.”
Despite all convention—but true to his personal Uzumaki way—he decided to attempt conversation. Most people would clearly signal if they didn’t want to talk, but it never hurt to try. Tokyo people were so damn gloomy. He had poured the drip coffees and had turned his attention to the lattes. “Is it your turn to bring coffee for your bosses, okakyu-sama?”
The pleasant smile on the mans’ face didn’t leave, but rather changed to a sheepish expression. “More like it’s my turn to treat my subordinates. They’ve been working very hard under me.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to help you express your sincere feelings to your subordinates then!” Naruto said as he warmed up the milk for the two lattes.
The slightly-less-mysterious customer chuckled. “Top rate service at this café. I may have to come by more.”
Naruto glowed. It was at this point that he noticed the book in the man’s hand. “Is that Icha Icha Paradise?”
Immediately the silver-haired man winced. “Maybe I shouldn’t have this out so blatantly, huh? I don’t usually expect most people to recognize it, unless you’re secretly a stay-at-home mom, Barista-kun.”
“Naruto. I’m Uzumaki Naruto,” he said, almost breathless. “A pleasure to meet you…”
“Hatake Kakashi.” The now-named Kakashi set his book on the counter as he pulled out a dark chrome cardholder to slide a business card and a few clean bills across to Naruto. The younger man traded him for the tray of coffee and the paper box of pastries, neatly tied up in twine.
Naruto bowed and picked up the card gingerly. “Professor?”
“Ah, yes. I’m teaching classes at the Polytechnic.” Things were clicking together now, as Tokyo Polytechnic was about a ten-minute walk from the alley. “Do you think it’s shameful a professor reads Icha Icha? I’m surprised a kid your age would know about it.”
Naruto’s blush returned at the word kid. Is that what he looked like? Was it ‘cause he hadn’t cut his hair all summer? “I’m 17!”
“And yet you’re not in school even though you should be in homeroom right now, Naruto-kun. You seem pretty hardworking and bright, but if you don’t see the value of an education, especially with only a year left, I can’t help but call you a kid.” The man’s voice was still pleasant but Naruto certainly felt the sting of being scolded. What did this stuffy professor even know? Jeez.
“What, the old man didn’t finish high school and he’s the author of that book in your hands and owns this café. He’s doing fine,” he grumbled.
Suddenly Kakashi’s disposition changed entirely. He leaned forward over the counter, his face right up in Naruto’s. The café worker could hardly breathe. “Icha Icha’s author? He owns this place?”
“Uh…yeah. He goes under whatever that pseudonym is but some fans tend to hunt him down with some research. He makes me delete mentions of him on the internet because he says he’s too old to learn himself, stupid ero-sennin—uh, Hatake-sensei? Would you mind taking your hand off of mine? It kinda hurts.”
Now it was Kakashi’s turn to blush. Kinda cute, Naruto thought, as the young professor pulled away and collected himself and his belongings. An idea, an incredibly stupid idea, came to the blond. “Hey. Hatake-sensei. I’ll trade you.”
Silver hair flopped to the side. “Trade?”
“He’s gonna be pretty busy with a national book tour soon for the next six months, but I’ll schedule a meeting with the old perv if you help me a little with school.”
Why was he even proposing this? He hated school. Sure, he had friends like Sakura and Kiba and Sai. Even though they had worried about Naruto’s very obvious trajectory to drop out of school, he out of all of them seemed best suited to enter the working world without a college degree. He liked working with his hands, making coffee or sandwiches for the customers, or covering Anko’s deliveries. School was boring and stupid, with its endless uniform rules and the way the teachers scolded you over every minor infraction. He only got along with the counselor, Iruka-sensei, but even he had given up in face of Naruto’s stubbornness to drop out of school and had transitioned to making sure the boy would be ready for the working world instead. He got into fights with the rich kids, like Uchiha Sasuke or Hyuuga Neji even though he got along just fine with Neji’s cousin Hinata. That teme Sasuke in particular made no effort to hide his disdain for the dead-last of the class, as Naruto was just a country bumpkin from the south who was too loud, too callous, and to stupid. So Naruto made a point to try and beat the shit out of him after school when he could as soon as the two of them stepped foot off-campus. He didn’t always win, but lately Sasuke had been near-rushing immediately to his private chauffeur, not wanting to snitch on the Uzumaki as if he were leaning on his status as heir to Uchiha Enterprises, nor did he want to keep dealing with bruises and scratches on the boy’s account. So dead-last Uzumaki Naruto considered it a victory on his own terms.
But despite all that, something about him desperately craved…something from this man in front of him. A little acknowledgment. A little more time. A little more of anything.
He didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath when Kakashi said, “Alright.”
“Wait, really?”
“You’re…an unpredictable one, Naruto-kun. I certainly didn’t expect my morning to go like this. But a meeting with my favorite author is hard to pass and you seem a bit more interesting than my stuck-up students at Polytechnic so…why not?”
Naruto beamed and pumped his fist in the air. “Thanks, Hatake-sensei!”
“Hatake-sensei makes me sound a little too old. I’m not ready for that. My students at the universities call me Kakashi.”
“Compromise then, Kakashi-sensei.”
Kakashi looked at him for a moment, holding him in some unknowable regard. “Alright, Naruto-kun. When will we meet again then?”
Naruto considered his schedule. “I work every day before and after school. Myoubokuzan closes at five. Can you come at closing? I can make dinner here for you, we usually have leftovers I just throw together before I go home.”
“Maa, you must be a terrible student, Naruto-kun, if I’m getting so much out of this tutoring.” Kakashi teased lightly.
“Well you’re a university professor! And uh…yeah I’m pretty bad. You’ve got your work cut out for you, sensei.”
“I look forward to it. Tuesday, then?”
Naruto couldn’t stop grinning long after the professor had left the coffeeshop. Suddenly this summer didn't seem so bad.