Naruto: The Seraph Project

Chapter 49: Lovely Insomnia

The kids took the opportunity to tease me, telling me how much this flower could make me "cute." It's nothing too bad, yet I cannot help but sigh to myself. Once outside, Naruto started clinging to my arm again as before and although he hides it from me, he sniffs my scent at times, making me very uncomfortable. I don't know if it's due to the flower in question, but I hope it's not related to something else...

I concluded it was time to take him home. Our group separated after a goodbye. Like last time, Shikamaru offered a fist bump to Naruto who returned it without hesitation... However, when Sakura offered him one, the blond pouted, looking away. Needless to say, his refusal hurt Sakura.

Along the way, I stopped at a shop to find more puzzles and fun toys that could keep the sapphire-eyed boy busy during his downtime. Stimulating his mind can only benefit him. Since he doesn't want to read, he should be interested in them since these objects overwhelmed his attention when he was in captivity. The veil of curiosity that covers his face implies an interest in my recent purchases.

With this flower in my silver mane, I look silly... Fortunately, the eyes gazing at us don't change very much. I don't detect anxiety in my student who subtly inhales my scent for dubious reasons. Of course, he stays pinned to me the whole way, which goes off without a hitch.

Surprised, but not surprised, Naruto started nodding his head once inside. Despite his dark circles and the accumulation of fatigue, he manages to chase away the exhaustion that suddenly catches up with him in a place where he feels safe. I could force him to keep his eyes open, but I'm afraid it's starting to take its toll on his body, which cannot rest at night.

I allow Naruto to go lie down—something he's quick to do when I give him the go-ahead, by the way. He rolls into a ball in the middle of the bed and covers himself with the blanket up to his eyelids. This time, even his ebony tail curled around him like a cat. Quickly, the blond sinks into Morpheus's arms.

Trusting his internal clock, I plan to let him sleep for two or three hours. In the meantime, I cook myself a meal after a few exercises and I finish by reading. I also dipped the flower in a glass of water which I placed in front of my bedroom window, next to my green plant that Naruto gave me three years ago. I thus avoid any misunderstanding; I don't want him to think that I got rid of it.

I watch over Naruto while taking care of myself; he's subject to nightmares during the hours of rest in the afternoon. To believe that this sleep is lighter than those at dawn.

This time, I remain vigilant when I wake up Naruto. Unfortunately, I don't even have time to touch him or say anything before he grabs me in his arms and drags me against my will into bed. I find myself on top of him and Naruto is on his back; my head is on his chest, my face is flushing and I hear the beating of his soothing heart. My legs are free of any biological ropes, but his grip is tenacious and far too sticky, though it doesn't take my breath away.

For fear that he will offer me another embrace of death, I tolerate this awkward hug by remaining still, especially since after slightly moving my arms, it tightened, grinding me in discomfort. I regret not having woken him up by pulling him out of bed... To add to my ordeal, Naruto suddenly started chewing my hair...

To say I'm exhausted would be a euphemism.

Not enjoying this embarrassing proximity and my hair more and more sticky with drool, I call out to the feral boy several times, gradually increasing the intensity of my voice. To my relief, he finally stirred, emitting a confused moan when I yelled his name. His arms release me and I hurry to separate myself from him.

To my misfortune and disgust, the wet locks are pressed against my forehead protector; a nasty drop of drool slides down my temple and far too close to my visible eye. I wipe away the excess filthy saliva covering part of my mane. I hardly repress a grimace by rubbing my hand in my sheets and thus, chasing the viscous liquid that sickens me.