this one-shot was inspired by looking for Alaska by John green, but you definitely do not need to have read the book to understand this!

Sweat glistened across your forehead, the heat that radiated from the sun scorched your exposed back, neck, and shoulders. The sky was a whirling catastrophe of magenta and blood orange facing off against their inevitable swallowing from the navy blue and jet black night. You trekked up the hill alongside "Pudge" his ironically scrawny frame rejecting the summit, a paperback book in your hand, and a half ingested cigarette in his.

"Pudge, would you grow some balls and hurry it up?" You demanded, slightly annoyed by his wimpish pants after every step he took.

"It's... the... cigarettes..," he confirmed, after finally making it to the top, doubling over and practically hacking so hard you expected his lungs to emerge from behind his lips.

"Pussy," you teased whilst grabbing his half smoked cigarette and taking a long drag yourself, the cherry at the end blossoming until there was about nothing left. You let it fall out from between your teeth and stepped over it with your cheap Walmart flip flops, your electric blue toes sparkling beneath the setting sun.

"Now what?" Pudge asked, his brown puppy dog eyes boring into yours.

"Now, we dig," you confirmed, before dropping onto your knees and tearing into the grass with your fingernails, dirt coming loose in clumps.

Pudge followed in suit, dropping to his own scrawny knees right next to you and didn't question you for a minute- after all you're a mystery. But every solved mystery unravels you bit by bit, making the treasure hunt all the more exciting.

Pudge, or Obito, realized he was the luckiest guy at Culver Creek, getting to spend this beautiful sunset with {First Name} {Last Name}. Every single guy at school was head over heels for you, even the weekday warriors. There's just something about you, to some it's your mischievous glittering green eyes or your sun kissed skin. To others it's your manic, unpredictable attitude. Though to Pudge it was everything: your sun kissed tan and green eyes, your ski slope nose and pinched cheek bones. It was your curves from your breasts that were straining against your peach tank top to your ankles exposed beneath your denim cutoffs. It was your manic pixie attitude, you were unpredictable, but the kind of unpredictable that was followed by excitement and exhilaration. He wanted you, even if you had a boyfriend whom you "love very much".

You were a fantasy, every man's fantasy. And you knew that, you knew that with every fiber of your being and you used that to your advantage every single day of your life, even with Pudge. But with Pudge, it was in a different way.

"Ouch," Pudge hissed, his finger finding the hidden buried treasure you both were digging for.

"A-ha!" You rejoiced, a triumphant smile twitching at the corner of your lips as you reached your hand in, just about halfway to your elbow, a bottle of pink, strawberry hill wine emerging, your grimy fingernails tightly grasping the glass bottle of liquor.

"A bottle of the finest, for special occasions," you confirmed, unscrewing the cap of the cheap wine and taking a long swig, your head tilting all the way back, your long blond locks inching towards the ground.

Pudge wondered what the special occasion was, but honestly didn't care: you were considering an event including him a special occasion, that was enough to make him feel good, better than the wine could compete with.

You passed him the bottle, and bottoms up he drank. If the wine hadn't tasted like vinegar with a dash of maple syrup, he would've thought it tasted like strawberries but all the same, it took about all his will power to get the first sips down without tasting bile in the back of his throat, though after a few swigs it become impulsive.

"Ahem," you cleared your throat before your composure regained, the paperback book in your hand. After all this was what you promised him in your list of "Reasons Why Pudge Should Spend Easter With {Name}": booze and story time.

You sat comfortable across from Pudge almost knee to knee, criss cross apple sauce.

"Before: one hundred thirty-six days before. The week before I left my family in Florida and the rest of my life-" you began, the cicadas accompanying the cadence of your voice. You'd obviously read the book many times before, so you read flawlessly and confidently and he could hear the smile in your voice. And the sound of your smile made him think that maybe he would like novels better if you read them to him.

He got lost in your voice, just telling the story, the emotion you radiated whilst reading. You both took occasional swigs from the bottle, which was now more than halfway drunk. Now he couldn't keep his eyes away from the cover, black and adorned with butter yellow daisies. He read the title: Looking for Alaska by John Green.

After a while you put the book down, and he felt warm but not drunk, with the bottle resting between you two - his chest touching it and your chest touching it but not you two touching each other. Then you placed your hand on his leg, as a gust of warm but chilly southern air blew through your hair. Your locks smelled like jellybeans, the orange ones. And your skin like citrus, lemony but more artificial, too sweet: like Minute Maid lemonade.

Your fingers traced circles across his legs causing Pudge to acknowledge the one layer between you and him. One layer, so small but enough to hold you back. The sky was now dotted with stars and his hazy mind couldn't connect them into constellations, couldn't fathom the reason why he feels both calm and exhilarated, both content and insufficient.

In those moments he wanted you, the feeling arising with each passing second, practically on the brink of saying the Three Little Words. And he steeled himself to say it, convincing himself that you felt it too. That your hand against his leg, so alive and vivid, had to have been more than just playful. In that moment he didn't care that you had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend, this was more than harmless flirting, this was love-

"It's not live or death, the labyrinth," you whispered, before Pudge could even get a breath out.

"Um okay, so what it is?"

"Suffering," you said. "Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That's the problem. Bolivar was talking abut the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?" Every word sounded inquisitive, but he could feel, he could hear the sorrow dripping from each breath.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and that's when he felt the absence of your hand.

"Nothing's wrong. But there's always suffering, Pudge. Homework or malaria or having a boyfriend who lives far away when there's a good looking boy lying next to you. Suffering is universal. It's the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about."

Maybe you weren't that girl who didn't care about anything, the one who played off as cool and immune to heartbreak. Your heart was shattering, just a little bit day by day. And it wasn't because of what everyone else thought; that you didn't feel enough. It was that you felt too much.

Pudge turned to you. "Oh, so maybe Dr. Hyde's class isn't total bullshit," he smirked, remembering your thoughts on the old man's World Religions class.

You both smiled, Pudge and his lopsided grin and you, with your inimitable Mona Lisa smirk. The air drew you closer, your noses practically touching, your faces flushed from the wine.

Pudge was about to speak, though the possibilities of what he may have said vanished with your finger to his lips.

"Shh. Don't ruin it," you pleaded, before allowing, not initiating, only allowing the gentle sway of the breeze bring you two closer, close enough your lips brushed against each other. Your mouths' needn't strain against each other for the universe wanted it to happen, the universe brought you two together. In a painless collision that will make a painful impact. He loves you and you love him and even though there are things holding you both back from saying the words, no one can hold you back from feeling them.

neji was also requested so ill upload one about him tomorrow :)