Our Paths Ever Crossed

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just a poor fanfic writer.

"Speech"
"Thought"
"Speech"
"Thought"

Yes, yes. I know it's been a while. Rake me over the coals, whatever. It's called having a job. You think college sucks your energy dry? Wait til you get a job. Physically, mentally, emotionally...something's gonna be drained after the week's done. I'm
trying. I'm fighting back against the lingering thought in the back of my head that if I've got so little energy that I should just hang
it all up. Again, fighting that feeling.

In case I need to out and out say it, this is a NaruHina fic. No harem. On the upside, having this story out there fulfills my urge for a happily-ever-after for them, so I'm less inclined to put Hinata in my other crossovers as a result.

Working on other fics, but it's stop and go. The pace and focus is unpredictable. There's really no telling which story I'll pick up, or the pace I'll set while working on it.

Chapter 4: Marching Forward

Sense memory was a truly wonderful thing. And absolutely unique to each and every person based on their experiences. The way that any one sense could evoke varying and often wildly different reactions from one person to the other.

The smell of the trees…

The taste of a freshly baked pastry…

The kiss of a lover…

The feel of another's hand in your own…

All were triggers of memory. And, in this case…

Seated in the ramen stand, a heartening warmth enveloped her as she saw the small smile on his face as her love tested the broth of his shrimp ramen.

Ever the noodle and broth connoisseur, this one.

As much as she knew he was probably thinking of the Ichiraku family right then, small sadness and loss, the happy memories undoubtedly outshined those feelings. Memories of them, and all the other good memories associated with the long-ago ramen stand. To her knowledge, it had always been one of the more positive influences in his life. Even for her, too. Cheeks tinted in mild embarrassment at the memory of Ayame teasing her, making idle notice of her drifting eyes on the occasions when she and her team had serendipitously eaten there at the same time as he.

Her spirits rose as the pace of his eating steadily increased.

"Oba-san, can I get another?" he asked, offering up his now empty bowl. The wrinkled lady behind the counter gave him a disbelieving look, surprised at the third empty bowl, but smiled all the same.

"Sure thing, kiddo." She cast a weathered eye over the pair again and turned away, smiling to herself. She was curious, wanting to ask just where he was putting the food, but she'd hold back. The two sweet kids just looked so nice together that she couldn't help but feel a fond warmth. Kind of like being with her grandchildren.

"Naruto-kun," the sweet girl urged, nudging his shoulder.

Abashed, he scratched his nose. "Sorry. I mean, thanks, oba-san," smiling awkwardly.

Akiko's smile broadened. Oh, so sweet.

There were times when the days just…blended…being absolutely ordinary or less than memorable. Then there were days like today. Serving up another miso ramen, she smiled at the way the young man's eyes lit up, and the way his girl smiled at him. Such a nice couple.

"You kids make it home safe now, y'hear?" the old lady called after the pair as they left her stand.

Waving back, they continued on in the fading light. "You bet, oba-san!" he called back warmly, Hinata waving back.

Akiko just smiled. Well, it was almost time to close up for the night…

After meeting the young couple, she felt…lighter than usual. It reminded her of when she first started dating her husband all those years ago. Even if he'd been gone a few years now, those memories filled her with such happiness.

She was so going to give her grandkids great, big hugs tonight.

"Feeling better?" she asked, bumping against him. Rhetorical, really, but she wanted him to say it for himself, to acknowledge to himself.

"Mhm," he murmured. "That oba-san really knows her stuff. It wasn't Ichiraku, but it was a close second." He was definitely putting this place on his mental GPS. Sure, it was a bit of travel to get here, but, if he was in the area… Y'know?

She giggled at his assessment. Just as she'd thought before… Connoisseur. Still though, something needed to be said, for her and for him. "You know you're going to marry me, right, Naruto-kun?" She tried not to smile at the way he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Gulping back his shock and surprise, he stopped and turned to face her, eyes thoroughly wide by this point. "Uh, Hinata-chan? What's-"

"Hush, Naruto-kun," she urged, finger coming to rest across his lips. Any retort died beneath the gentle digit. "We made each other a promise once, and I intend to keep it." Smiling up at him, she stepped into him, arms coming around him. "I love you, Naruto-kun."

"Hinata-chan…" He was horribly on the spot, but… "I-I love you, too, Hinata-chan."

"Then show me," she challenged.

Ears burning, there was really only one way to respond to her. Leaning down, he met her lips with his own, and drank her in. It was soft, but consuming. As he pulled her to him, she pulled him to her.

Just as he was certain she could taste the ramen on his tongue, he could taste the side-order of sweet bean paste rolls she'd had.

After an eternity, they separated.

"I'm not saying right now, Naruto-kun," she breathed. "But you will be marrying me."

He smiled at her determination.

As if in the blink of an eye, the Summer months were more than halfway through, and coming to a close.

Days spent together would soon become scarcer.

Body and mind would then return to the absorbing ritual of attending school. Nights would be spent full of study. But that wasn't everything. There were still phone calls, emails, and weekends together. And they only had to suffer through it, foreseeably, for another year. One year… Then they would attend university.

Together.

Gods forbid anyone try to prevent that. He'd commented that they had the option of trying for neighboring colleges, if they couldn't go together. The possibility of not being accepted into the same college seemed to irk Hinata like nothing else.

It'd been…kinda frightening.

He resolved himself to having to really go for the gold this year, if he was to have a chance at a good university. Hinata's father was a successful lawyer and her grades were in the top ten percent of her class. She was practically guaranteed to be scooped up by a good school.

And he didn't want to drag her down from that.

So…he'd have to bust ass to give his grades…above average, really…enough of a shine to at least merit the same school opening his application letter.

Money…would be an issue.

He supposed he could apply for some sort of financial assistance. He didn't want to bet everything on a scholarship or award, provided he even qualified for any. He preferred to hedge his bets.

So it was that he found himself in one of the darker corners of Tokyo. Times changed, people didn't. It hadn't been all that difficult to track down what he'd been looking for.

A few discreet bills and he was in.

The ages ranged from young to old, but he was the youngest. The rules were different in underground games. Age meant nothing; money played. And he'd scrounged together just enough to make the buy-in. If something went wrong, he'd be eating instant cup foods for months. That was the only way he could afford it without dipping into his equally meager school funds.

Even if age wasn't an issue, he knew enough about the seedier ways to disguise himself. A little temporary hair dye, makeup to hide his returned cheek marks, not that he hadn't already been doing that, a little touchup here and there…

And he was a passable imitation of his former teammate.

He had always been a rather gifted gambler…instinctually speaking. Add to that a long life of reflection and thought, shinobi training of "reading" people, several teen years of picking up gambling tricks from Tsunade, and, well…

He'd already field tested himself. He hadn't wanted to rely solely on luck, so he'd dusted off his training in reading people.

"The pot now exceeds 8 million yen. Gentlemen, your cards," the dealer directed.

Eight…million…yen… (Around $80,000 US)

That… That was a lot of money.

That was why this particular game was so important. Big league games tended to have hefty pots. Any one of which could seriously dent scholastic loans. And eight million yen…he hadn't expected it to get so high…that'd actually put him over the top for his theorized school bills.

Truth be told, with or without Lady Luck's attentions, the men before him were easy. Blame the ninja training. No matter how experienced, everyone had a tell if you knew what to look for. And there were some tells that simply couldn't be faked.

A suddenly bounding carotid pulse tells you a lot about how someone's feeling.

…

The moment of truth.

Now they'd all find out who had what.

Of the seven players at the table, all but three had folded. They watched from their seats as the pot grew in size from turn to turn, players trying to bluff or force their opponent to throw more money into the pot.

There was Roshi, directly to his right, then, old man Han across the table, and, finally, himself.

Roshi serenely placed his cards down, stroking his mustache in well-concealed glee. (I kind of think of similar appearance to Akisame from Mightiest Disciple. Or maybe Ogata from Hikaru no Go.) "Well, this has certainly been an interesting round, but I think it goes to me. Two pair." Before him, a pair of aces, a pair of fours, and a queen.

Chuckling from where he sat, practically hunched in his chair, Han drew deeply from his long-stemmed pipe, smiling through wrinkled lips. And yet…he gave off a grandfatherly kind of look. Like you might find him in a Go Parlor or playing Checkers in the park. (For Han, I'm imagining Kuwabara from Hikaru no Go. An awesome old guy.) "Mm, quite the hand you have there, Roshi, but, sadly," and he dropped his hand casually to the table. "One I cannot beat," he sighed. He had bluffed like a champion to make it this far, but his collection of a trio of nines, a king, and a queen, all of differing suits, could not defend a claim to the pot.

Leaning back in his chair, actually looking a bit relieved now that the pressure was off, he took a deep pull of tobacco before letting it out in a content sigh. He had lost, but not more than he had come with. He'd just about broken even, picking up a little pocket money, all the while having an enjoyable evening matching wits and nerves. A win by his book.

"Well, my boy," he breathed, glancing at the last remaining participant. "That just leaves you."

"…"

Roshi shook his head. "He doesn't have it." The young man in question had been winning an average of seven hands out of ten the entire evening. There was simply no way that that kind of luck could keep going.

And he wasn't cheating.

"Now, now, Roshi. You should never count anyone out until the last card falls." Han was an experienced gambler. Not that that meant he gambled often, but that he knew when to play a hand and when not to. He didn't play for ego, but keen interest in the challenge, but not at the expense of losing everything. There were many a young gambler, old ones, too, who never learned that. People who gambled away everything on just a fleeting chance. Han never bet more than he could afford to lose, while making certain he always had enough left to live comfortably.

From where he sat, he could tell that it wasn't just luck backing the young man. For one, the boy had no tells.

Now, it was Naruto's turn. Taking in the table…his opponents, the chips…

He dropped his cards.

Nothing.

Then, as realization hit him, Roshi sucked wind through clenched teeth. "Impossible."

In order… 7, 8, 9, 10, and Jack…all Hearts.

Han's chuckle deepened, smiling broadly as he thoroughly enjoyed himself. "Well, now, unless I'm wrong, that would be the winning hand, Roshi."

That didn't just beat Roshi, it eclipsed his hand by several levels of magnitude! For all that bluster and confidence, the businessman had never had a chance!

The game would continue on for a few more hands, there remaining a little over 3 million yen left to be won between them all, but a good majority of funds now belonged to the teen. That said, not feeling greedy, and more than pleased with the evening's results, he discreetly excused himself from the table to cash-out.

The big pot of that last round coupled with the winnings throughout the game… He figured he was at about eleven-and-a-half million yen.

Part of him thought he'd have a heart attack at the number.

It was a good thing the night went so well. Hinata would ask where the money came from. And while she would be glad of his earnings, she would also undoubtedly crack down on his wandering and confiscate most of the money for his schooling.

"A splendid game, young man," Han praised, sidling up to him, having also decided to cash-out his buy-in and his night's winnings. A tidy one hundred and eighty thousand yen excess. "I've never known someone so lucky at cards. You had the dealer changing decks every other hand." At this he laughed loudly and amusedly. "Heheheh… You certainly made the evening entertaining."

He had his guard up…given the amount he was receiving from the cashier…but he didn't get the impression that Han was the type to hold a grudge. For him, gambling was…fun? He supposed that was the feeling he got about him. "Thank you, Han-san, though it was rather stressful at the end."

"Don't be so modest, son. You may have Lady Luck lookin' over your shoulder, true, but you also have a good eye, the way you watched your opponents at the table. Don't often see that in someone so young."

Naruto's lips twitched. "I had a granny who used to gamble," he began. "She loved it…but she couldn't win a hand to save her life." Grinning himself, he looked across at the elder. "When she found out that I had a knack for it, she smacked me on the head for even giving it a shot, sure enough…then she tried to get me to go to gambling parlors as her good luck piece." Han broke into a raspy laugh, pipe forgotten for the moment for the hilarity of the story.

"Hohoho!" he rubbed a tear from his eye, grin still affixed. Stepping up next, he passed his winnings to the cashier. "And what's a young man going to do with that kind of money, hm? I'm not all that certain what your generation's into these days… Videogames? Robots?"

Naruto snorted. "Rent, actually," he informed. "And school. With this, I won't have to run between work and school, and I won't be in hock after I graduate."

Han turned and graced him with an impressed, appraising glance. "Quite the mature response for someone your age," he mused. "You continue to surprise me, young man. And that's quite the gift to someone of my years."

"Thanks, oji-san," the teen offered amiably.

Han took no offense at the casual reference. In fact, it seemed to tickle him. "Hoho. I may be old, boyo, but y'know what comes with that? Wisdom." Seeing that he had the youth's attention, he continued. "Such a large amount of money will surely raise eyebrows at the bank, unless you plan to pay for your schooling in cash." He could see it in the young man's eyes, calculations followed by realization. Finally…

Hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the teen groaned tiredly. "…Crap. I…didn't think of that." Seriously, he was how old? And he had missed that little conundrum? He was trying to fly under the radar. Deposits like that tended to draw attention at banks.

Han laughed deeply and amusedly at his predicament. Packed pipe between his teeth, he regarded the young man as he mentally went over the present conundrum. Gambling at its finest was no different than a game of shogi. Strategy, deception, and intelligence. The boy in front of him had displayed all of that, and managed to hold his own against Roshi, a veteran player, and himself. And he truly was impressed in his reasons. He gathered that he lived alone, for whatever reasons, and looked after himself.

A thousand little things here and there, in the game and out, and he could develop a decent idea of the young man.

"Tell me, young man, do you do well in school?"

Broken from his mind-scramble, "Uh, yeah. I mean yes."

Lighting his pipe, Han's eyes gleamed. "And you have a part-time job, I assume?" It was kind of a given for someone putting themselves through school.

"Yeah. So, uh, why do you ask, old man?"

"How'd you like a job?" Han offered simply. "Full-time, in the summer."

"Um, I hardly know you…and you don't really know me, either."

"Hohohoh! Indeed! Which is why I'll want an official application with your school scores. If everything's good, then I'll take you on for the last month of the summer. And if all goes well, the entirety next summer."

The disguised young man's eyes widened a hair. "What kind of job?"

"Mm, that depends on what I think of your grades, m'boy." There was potential beneath the surface, potential wasted on backroom gambling, and he wanted to see what would become of it if nurtured. That was what wise old coots like him were supposed to do, help the young to better themselves. Pulling out his wallet, he slipped a card from within and handed it to him. "Han Kuwabara. Four-Winds Publishing."

Hesitating, considering things carefully, especially the man before him…Han actually seemed like a decent person, and this was under the scrutiny of someone who'd lived a long time…he came to a decision. "In that case… Naruto Uzumaki," he greeted sheepishly.

Han's eyes flickered, laughing within. "Oho! Nice to meet you!"