Naruto Fan Fiction / Fruits Basket Fan Fiction / InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Exploits of Missy Butterfly ❯ A Barrel of Secrets ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: The story line and my original characters belong to me. The characters Neji, Zabuza, Shikamaru, Naruto, and Hinata do not belong to me, but Masashi Kishimoto (Naruto). Also Shigure, Hatsuharu, & Rin do not belong to me, but to Natsuki Takaya (Fruits Basket). Inuyasha and Shesshomaru do not belong to me, but to Rumiko Takahashi (InuYasha). Mugen belongs to Shinichiro Watanabe (Samurai Champloo), Hajime to Toru Tsunemitsu (Ghost Stories), Satoshi to Yukiru Sugisaki (D.N. Angel)

Author's Notes: Huzzah, a longer chapter! Can you guess the mystery man at the end of the chapter? It's obvious...



Exploits of Missy Butterfly
#4: A Barrel of Secrets

When I got home, my husband wasn’t even there. He was probably out drinking like he always did on his days off with his buddies Neji, Hajime, and Satoshi. This is more revenge on his part because he didn’t even leave a note. But at this point, I wouldn’t mind if he got snatched. Or murdered. Or drive-by shot. Honestly I know plenty of guys who I could call to arrange murders (Zabuza, Mugen, Inuyasha, Shesshomaru, any other guys with swords.)

I’m almost as dirty as Shigure now. Oh yeah, I forgot to decide whether I was going to hook up with him or not. Maybe for my own benefit, but if my husband found out we’d be divorced at the snap of a finger. So then otherwise it’d be no big deal. Great, now two of my guys know I have a husband.

More revenge on my husband’s part. I was going to call Neji, but now I can’t even do that. God, I know so many guys but I always feel alone. My so-called husband is making me feel more alone then ever. Maybe that’s why I have to cheat on him so much, because I don’t feel that husbandly comfort from him anymore.

I went for a walk, to relax myself. I went to the park and sat at a bench, staring at the clouds, then the little kids at the playground. Before I knew it I was dreaming…

I dreamt about when I was five years old and I met these boys who were 5. They were sitting at the top of the jungle gym, staring at the sky in a daydream. I sat next to them and one asked me my name. “My name is Mistress,” I said. “And honest-to-God that is my name.” “When you mom named you, was she taking any illegal drugs?” he asked. “Most likely, but I’m not sure.” I answered. “What’s you boys’ names anyway?” The one with a brown poofy ponytail said his name was Shikamaru and the one with weird black and white hair said his name was Hatsuharu. “You two have matching names! I want a matching name!” I cried. I was crying when Hatsuharu put his arm around me and said,” instead of a matching name, why don’t we give you a nickname, that’s cool.” “Missy,” Shikamaru said. I stopped crying and happily declared that Hatsuharu’s nickname would be Haru, which he was happy with. “You know, you two are both really cute boys,” I said. Haru immediately declared,” You can’t say we’re both cute, you have to choose one!” “But I just can’t choose one! (that’s the story of my life) it’s not like I’m asking to do it with both of you or something,” I cried. Shikamaru questioned with a curious look,” Do it? Aren’t you a little young to be saying stuff like doing it?” “I’m sorry Shikamaru if that was too inappropriate for you,” I answered slyly. “Hey, who’s the little blonde kid over there?” Shikamaru replied, ”Oh that’s just Naruto.” “Oooh, Naruto’s cute! I like blonde-blue boys,” I said. “So you’re gonna leave us for him?” Haru asked pleadingly. “Heck yeah, everyone know’s blondes are easy. See you later Haru,” I gave Haru a kiss on the cheek and climbed down to the ground and went after Naruto.

I put my arms around his neck and said in my cutest flirty-little-girl voice, “Hi Naruto.” “Hi, what’s your name?” he asked. “Missy” I said. A little girl with short blue hair ran up to us and cried, ”No way, he’s mine! Find your own boyfriend!” That girl turned out to be my future best friend, Hinata. The nice person I am, I let Hinata have him that day, and they’re married today. And that day, I met my husband too, Haru. Okay, okay, just kidding. I haven’t seen him nor Shikamaru since that day. I wish I could have though…

I woke up and looked at my watch. It had only been 20 minutes I was asleep. I was about to get up and go when I swear I was going insane. I thought I saw a little boy that looked just like Haru with all-black hair, holding the hand of a young man who looked just like Haru walking with a woman who looked just like Haru. (Just kidding! She had long black hair and didn’t resemble Haru.) I wanted to ask the man did he remember me, but he was with his wife (I assume) and I didn’t want to. The wife took the boy to play on the park slides so this was my chance to ask. I went up to him and asked, “Do you remember me, from when we were little, at a park?” He looked at me long and hard. I thought he wouldn’t remember me since my short black hair has gotten longer and there was some light blue on the ends of it. “You’re that girl who kissed me on the cheek, aren’t you? Missy?” he said. “Yes! You do remember me! You’ve gotten married and had a kid now?” I asked. “Yeah, I have. What about you?” He replied. “I have a husband, but he’s out with some friends today,” I answered. “You know, I still have that name you gave me?” “People really call you that still? Wow, it stuck.” he responded. “Well I was on my way home, so I gotta go,” I said waving. “Bye, nice seeing you again,” he waved.

On my walk home I was thinking, maybe my husband isn’t the right one for me? I met my first man Haru today, and he was out with his wife and son and they were happy. My friend Hinata has her husband Naruto, and their baby and they’re one happy family too. I have my husband and lately, all we’ve done is fight. I know the happiness I have with those other guys is short lived and apparently, so was me and my husband’s.

I wasn’t paying attention, and ended up bumping into this man with navy blue hair. I mumbled a quick “I’m sorry” until I actually looked at his face. It was the kind of face that could look as cute and vulnerable as a child’s and as strong and handsome as a man’s too. He was the perfect-looking man. Muscular, but not too muscular, perfect in everyway. And he was walking away. “Um! Um, I’m Sorry!” I blurted. “You already said sorry,” he said in his laid-back voice. “What I meant was, um, do you have a girlfriend?” I asked, panicking. “No, I have a wife,” he replied.

My heart practically stopped.

To Be Continued . . .

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