There are two words that can strike up a smile, grin or otherwise excited reaction from college students—No, not ‘Spring Break’. For Beach-Side University, those two words happened to be ‘Beach Party’. When placed in conjunction, a field of opportunities arose; the majority and more popular being of the classed ‘Get Smashed, Get Laid’.
Either way, Naruto had contently planned the particular afternoon. Still in place of Shikamaru’s birthday, yes, but as time flew by he decided he might have as well included his own—still forthcoming; like he needed an excuse to start up a party. He’d watched the weather station religiously, actually, to ensure said party would be acceptable.
It was also conveniently upon the day he received his pay that the party was finally scheduled, giving a short explanation as to how he managed to get his hands on a few cases of beer. He had intentions of starting a fire regardless of permits, and had stocked up on dry wood beforehand, leaving a small pile in a cozy spot after scoping out a nice view. If anything, they’d get drunk (they being if anyone aside from himself showed; if not, ‘he’ would be in place of ‘they’ at least,) and perhaps have a small fire. Okay, perhaps that didn’t mix too well but hell… beach parties were boring without some form of a fire.
He huffed, placing his hands on hips after jogging down the chiseled stairs from the small parking lot close to this nook of the beach—He’d gotten a tank-full of gas in Kyuu-Chan, (devouring a large portion of his check. He assumed he’d be broke by the following Monday,) and drover her there after sorting through some of the junk in his back seat to prevent it from looking like he lived in there. Which he did, but that was beside the point.
He clicked his tongue; it wasn’t like anyone was going to look in there anyway.
He rolled his eyes, turning on his heels in the sand before freezing. He stood still for a second before yet again turning to face the small set up (a blanket and a cardboard box, stuffed with minor food items and well, more booze,) before swinging a foot back and then completing a kick—To watch his black sneaker land just beside said box, his left one soon to follow. He smiled at the outcome before he dusted his hands off together and retreated back to his car to follow the previous train of thought.
He pulled the driver-side door open and leaned in haphazardly, feeling around in the bottom of the backseat at an odd angle that made his black shirt ride up—he paid no mind to it, continuing to feel around for that flashlight he could’ve sworn was there. He felt around a little more, startled only for a second by the brush against a blond wig before retracting his hand disdainfully.
Sure, he had a small camper’s light back down on the beach, but he’d have preferred to have another torch of some sort in case. Meh. He gave a last look over the interior of his car before patting the steering wheel lovingly and clambering out. He gave a look up to the skyline as he slammed the door shut, it was slowly becoming night-fall, and the sun hadn’t yet dipped below the horizon but was moving there fast. He mused whether or not he’d be fine in his shirt and jean cut-offs, but made a trip to the trunk to fish out a snug black hoodie just in case. That slung under his arm, he padded his way back to the beach with a gleeful grin.