The two young children watched the empty grounds, illuminated by silvery moonlight. Their eyes glowed and the younger turned to the other, a cat-like grin adorning her lips.
"Tomorrow," it was decided. "We do it tomorrow."
Iruka hid a yawn behind his role-card, though he was certain some of the little brats had seen, if any of the snickers were anything to go by. H knew that his morning had been shot to hell the moment he had woken up at four in the morning, choking on Moony-Chan's stomach. Apparently, he had decided that Iruka's face was a better pillow than the bed. Then, after disinfecting cat scratches left behind by a pissy kitty that wanted to stay on his face, he had been unable to fall back to sleep.
He had been zapped of all pleasant, fuzzy, sleepyness by his shower, which reminded him that paying the heat bills was a good thing. His coffee maker had broken the day before and wouldn't be fixed until Monday, so he had five days of no ever-so-addicting caffeine to guzzle down in the morning.
There had been one point of light in his dark morning, thought, when his doorbell had rang. Still drippy-wet from the shower and bitch about his lack of eight cups of coffee, he had pulled open the door only to remember too late that he wasn't wearing a towel.
"Hello, sir, I… uh…" the man, dressed all in white, looked away to his fiercely blushing wife. "If this is a bad time –"
"No, not at all." Iruka fought back the urge to grin. If he was going to suffer this morning, he was damn well going to drag others down with him. "Would you like to join me?"
The woman squeaked and hid behind the box of bright orange bibles in her hands.
"No thank you," the man said quickly. Attempting to recompose himself as Iruka shifted just so, he stumbled out, "H-How do you feel about you current religion?"
"Oh, it's great." Iruka stretched his arms above his head and stood on his toes. The woman looked like she was about to pass out. "Satan's always on call. He's very reliable, you know. Very quick with results."
"Y-You must reject Satan!" the man cried, looking completely scandalized. "His dark ways and broken promises are a sure path to Hell!"
"Hell actually sounds very nice," Iruka defended, internally snickering. "All warm and full of people. Heaven's what I'm avoiding. Wet clouds everywhere, no time passing, eternal boredom. Nope. I'm very content with Hell."
The man gaped and the woman shook. Those books reminded him of something. Especially their color.
"I will take one of those books, though."
The man stared at him like he had burst into flames. Grabbing a Bible from the top of the box, he threw it at Iruka and dragged his wife as far away as possible.
Waving cheerily to his stunned, elderly neighbor, staring at him while over-watering her roses, Iruka turned into his house, setting the bible on his coffee table, and went to go get dressed.
Naruto would like that book, if only for the color.
"All right," (you little brats) "everyone line up against the wall – shuriken practice begins today. We'll be going outside where I will explain to you safety procedures."
The children cheered and leapt from their seats, crowding around the door. Iruka internally groaned, not feeling like dealing with screaming seven-year-olds but having no other choice. As he ushered the noisy children into the schools back training area, he began to explain exactly how to hold shuriken correctly to minimize self-injury and how to throw them to maximize injury to others.
Vaguely, he hoped that the children couldn't hear him over their own talking and injured themselves so that he didn't have to come into tomorrow, but it was just wistful thinking. More probably was the idea that all children would be expert marksmen so that they could move onto even sharper and pointier objects.
The children cheered and rushed out the doors as they approached and Iruka lost all track of them. I don't wanna call role again, his brain whines. I know! I'll just stop caring! That's always fun.
The brats were crowded behind the white safety line (damn! They listened), eagerly awaiting the dull practice shuriken. Iruka approached, picking up the box hidden by genjutsu and began handing out the tools, mentally going over each of the children's names despite his earlier plan to give up.
Tenten, Yakimaru, Yigi, Neji, Akaji, Shitoma, Ruki, Rock Lee, Jinicha, random girl number one – wait.
Iruka looked down at the little girl, taking in the sight of her long black hair, brown eyes, and, oddly enough, red cat ears and a red weasel tail.
"Who are you?" he asked, hearing the other children growing impatient and beginning to chuck their shuriken.
"Angel." She tried to take the tool from Iruka's hand but he held it just out of her reach.
"Why are you here?"
"Wanna throw stuff." She bounced and he held the shuriken higher. "Gimme!"
"Fine." He dropped the object and she caught it, squealing happily. He looked at the next girl, auburn hair pulled back into a brain, green eyes, and dull brown dog-ears and tail. "Who are you?"
The girl pointed to herself and then to the box.
"You're not getting a shuriken until you tell me your name."
The girl stamped her foot.
"She's Murray," Angel piped up, clutching her shuriken to her chest.
Iruka looked at the weasel girl for a moment. "Good enough." He handed Murray a shuriken.
A month later, Iruka was at his desk after school, grading papers and eager to go home when there came a knock at the door.
"Come in," he called, marking a big F on the paper whose questions had been answered in suggestive drawing. Correct, suggestive drawings.
A tall man entered, black hair falling into emerald eyes, a sliver of a glowing gem on a chain about his neck.
"Ah, hello Yamino-san," Iruka greeted.
"Umino-san," the man replied stiffly before relaxing into a grin. "Must we really keep up useless formalities, Iruka-kun? Our clans have been friends for generations, since Hoshigakure."
"Too true, Yuugi-kun." Iruka leaned back in his chair. "What is it you've come for? Certainly not to reminice?"
"No, no. I'm here to talk to you about my daughter."
Iruka blinked. "Who?"
"Angel. Her cousin told me that he saw her on the training grounds one day."
"Angel…" Iruka thought for a moment. "Oh right – the weasel girl. I should have realized she was yours with the ears and such."
"Has she been causing trouble around here?"
"Oh no, not much." (Less than Naruto does daily.) "She's rather nice in class."
"Ah, that's good to hear. I will leave you now."
Iruka nodded, but called out in sudden remembrance. "What about your other daughter? Murray?"
"Murray?" Yuugi gave Iruka a confused look. "Angel is an only child."
Ha! Take that!
Nine: Who are you talking to?
Angel: My brain. I haven't wanted to concentrate on anything all day today. Work is slowly killing my attention span and my feet. And my hands.
Itachi: Stop whining.
Angel: No. Anyway, since I don't feel like doing stuff anymore, Naruto can say the disclaimer.
Naruto: Bleh. Angel doesn't own Naruto, Hoshigakure, Murray or Moony-Chan. The last three belong to Bomb-O-Maniac.
Angel: Excellent, so, till next time.