Disclaimer: Three loud booms ring out, and the curtain goes up amidst a round of applause.
Kakashi, in a bright pink tutu, face mask and Hitai-ate in their usual positions, cross-capers onstage from the right wing, a disturbing blush coloring what's visible of his face, amidst chirping crickets.
He gives a one-eyed happy smile at the audience.
There is a commotion from stage-left, and Gai comes onstage in a manner similar to Kakashi's, though on his hands.
"BWAHAHAHA!! THE POWER OF YOUTH IS INCREDIBLE!!! THIS TIME, I SHALL OUTSHINE YOU FOR SURE KAKASHI!!!!"
"Hmm?" The addressee replies disinterestedly "You say something?"
A look of utter shock and defeat affixes itself to the face of the 'Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha', but before the situation can get further off-track, a thick scroll of paper rolls out of the prompt-box.
Kakashi peers at it lazily, then kicks it towards Gai who is still standing on his hands. That worthy one attempts to catch it as it goes past, but overbalances and teeters off to the left, desperately trying to catch his balance again. Given the clattering that sounds out, and the cat yowling, we'll have to assume he failed.
Kakashi's eye smiles. "The Author owns nothing except his own original concepts. Please don't sue, as you'd be wasting your time only to acquire the residents of the ant colony that moved in recently next to his room."
::eye twitches:: What is it with you, and pink tutu disclaimers?
What? I think it's funny!
You're seriously messed up, you know that?
::Grinning brightly:: And proud of it!
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A/N:This thing has been going through me head for quite a while and, as I've just been thrown out of my Uni course and am currently looking for an alternative, I found myself with some time to kill, so I though, 'why not?', and here's the result.
I find myself wishing they hadn't thrown you out.
::blows a raspberry:: Anyway, read and enjoy!
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Code-o-rama:
Blah: narration
Blah: slight emphasis
Blah: heavy emphasis
"Blah": speaking
'Blah': thoughts / mental speech (we'll trust you to tell 'em apart)
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Night had fallen, the moon obscured by banks of clouds, but he was beyond caring. He had failed. Failed at his academy test. Now he could never become a genin, and the road to the Hokage title was barred from him, he knew it! Whatever Iruka-sensei had been about to say there was no doubt in his young ten-year old mind: those who failed their genin test never became ninjas.
Those were the thoughts that circled round and round within one Uzumaki Naruto's mind. A young boy of forty-two seasons with messy golden hair, held back by a pair of goggles in lieu of a headband, three whisker-like scars on each of his cheeks, clothes an eye-jarring orange, and eyes a most beautiful shade of baby blue. Though, at present, that last was hard to see since they were shut tightly, tears streaming from the sides.
Earlier that day, he had taken the test to be promoted to the rank of genin, the lowest rank of the Hidden Leaf Village's corps of ninjas. Joining the ranks also meant a salary, as well as a modicum of recognition from the villagers, seeing as the sale of the services of its ninjas was the village's main income source. Thus, being a ninja was tantamount to being a major economic player, hence the respect.
All that had gone down the drain for this particular student, though, when the subject of his practical exam was revealed: Bunshin. His worst jutsu, and his teacher knew that perfectly well! Even worse, the other examiner had crossed him off the sheet the very moment he entered the examination room, barely sparing him a disdainful look before looking out the window, not even bothering to see how well, or poorly, he did at the Clone Jutsu.
That was when Naruto realised the stark truth of the matter: No matter what Iruka-sensei said, all the examiners treated him the same as the villagers did, rejecting him out of hand. And it wasn't fair!
So miserable was he, that he didn't notice a person come up behind him until a hand was placed comfortingly on his shoulder. At that point he jumped in alarm and, since such a gesture had more often than not preceded the infliction of pain, he lashed out
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"NO! YOU CAN'T JUST COME TO SEE HOKAGE-SAMA LIKE THAT WITHOUT A VALID REASON-"
His secretary's tirade was abruptly cut off, and Sarutobi, lord Hokage the Third, let out a long-suffering sigh. The girl was diligent in her work, of that there was no doubt, but sometimes she just overstepped her boundaries. Case in point.
The doors to his office swung open, held by his two personal guards who, unlike his secretary, could perceive the peculiarities of this most unusual supplicant. In strode a greying man of advanced years, dressed as a chef. In fact, that's exactly what he was—on the surface, that is.
"Ichiraku-han(1)." Sandaime greeted politely, with a drop of his head towards the squinty-eyed man.
"Sarutobi-san," greeted back the proprietor and cook of the Ichiraku Noodle Bar, ignoring the secretary's outraged cries at the show of familiarity, "I believe you may already may have an inkling as to why I am here..."
"Indeed." The leader of Hidden Leaf Village agreed gravely. He then motioned the guards to close the doors, cutting off any further protests his secretary might have made.
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His fist, however, was caught in a strong, yet gentle grip. Naruto blinked in surprise at this, as any one who attacked him without provocation usually did so when drunk beyond any fighting prowess.
His 'attacker' took advantage of this opportunity.
"Please calm down, Naruto-kun. I am not here to hurt you." The soft, feminine voice said. A voice that the boy thought he recognized, but couldn't quite place.
"Who... are you?" he questioned carefully, his grief and tears forgotten for the moment. It was at that point that the moon reappeared in the sky, and light fell across the face in front of him. "Ah!" he cried out in sudden recognition, "Ichiraku no onee-san?!"
The serving girl of the Ichiraku Noodle Bar, his favorite hang-out in all of Konoha, smiled back brightly at him, nodding her head yes. "Now why don't you tell Aya-nee(2) what's the matter?" she asked him warmly, and seemed to ready herself to absorb the impact of a weight.
Naruto's eyes teared up again, and he let himself fall forward into the older girl's open embrace, bawling his little heart out.
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"Sarutobi-san," the Ichiraku chef, once seated, began, "up to now, She has been willing to put up with the situation. For Yondaime's sake." He paused to look meaningfully at the aged Hokage. "However, even you must agree that the people's perception of the boy has been anything but what your successor hoped for."
A sad look entered the red-robed man's eyes. "That is so." He agreed diffidently, then paused. He sighed heavily, as if in defeat, then asked a question he feared he already knew the answer to. "Then She wishes to take him in?"
The man across from him nodded in acquiescense. "He has a legacy to live up to, after all. If none here is willing to help tutor him, there certainly won't be any lack of volunteers there. In fact," he went on in a lighter tone, "I believe my grandaughter will be amongst the first to claim the honor."
"Is this truly wise?" the Three Legendary Sennin's former teacher asked, in a last-ditch effort.
"You know it is." The Ichiraku owner replied, somber once again, "It would only have been a matter of time before someone not drunk attempted something. Oh, yes," he went on, leaning forward in his seat as the Protector of Konoha stiffened, "don't think I hadn't noticed. It may not be the case to those who follow you, but to us, Naruto is a most precious child. And we don't intend to leave him to your people's tender mercies any longer." He straightened again. "We will take him with us tonight." He conluded.
"So soon?!"
"Hai. Too much time has been lost already." The aged owner of Ichiraku stood up, "His formation shoud be completed within two years' time. It will then be up to him which Genin group he will join, yours or... ours." He dipped his head. "Good evening to you, Sarutobi-san."
The Hokage did not get up, nor reciprocate the partial bow. "And to you, Ichiraku-han."
His visitor merely raised an eyebrow at the discourtesy, then let himself out the doors, much to the startlement of the secretary who had obviously been staying in the hall all through the interview.
"Hokage-sama?" She questioned. He shook his head slowly in answer, and she turned back to her desk as the guards closed the double doors once again.
The man wearing the title of 'Fire Shadow' gazed sorrowfully at the fourth portrait hanging on the wall to his left.
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"Sooo... Where're we going exactly Oyaji?"
"Please, Naruto, call me Teuchi-jii(3). Being called Oyaji makes me feel old..."
"Newsflash, granpa: You are old!"
"Bah! Youngsters these days! You get no respect..."
Naruto laughed heartily as the owner of the Ichiraku Noodle Bar, his second Favorite-Person-In-The-World after Iruka-sensei, mock-griped at the supposed slight.
After he had gotten through his long-delayed bout of crying into a friendly shoulder (delayed by the lack of such a shoulder that is), Aya-nee—the name came surprisingly easily to his lips—had led him back to the noodle bar where her grandfather had been waiting for them. From there, he had been led inside the building, into the living area, whereupon the old man had twisted a light fixture in a precise-looking way , stepped back, and executed a rapid series of hand seals. Naruto didn't even have the time to wonder at the aged chef's knowledge of hand-seals before a section of the raised wooden floor moved aside to reveal a steel trapdoor with all sorts of seals engraved upon it.
Again, the old man made a set of hand-seals, and this time, as he made and held the last seal, some kind of dark matter oozed out of his hands and ran along the grooves of the seals on the door, which seemed to suck it in, before opening silently.
Which brought Naruto to where he was now, following the old man along a glow-moss-lit declining tunnel, Aya-nee bringing up the rear. Running water could be perceived just on the edge of hearing. And he had an unanswered question.
"Where are we going, Teuchi-jii?" He figured humouring the old man bettered the odds of obtaining an answer.
"To see my sister."was the mysterious answer from up-front.
"Who's she then?" The hyperactive blond asked curiously.
For all answer he got a chuckle.
He was about to ask again when they came to a sharp bend in the tunnel, and as he turned after the old man the sound of water resolved itself into that of a waterfall as the tunnel abruptly ended inside a humongous cavern.
As Naruto, slack-jawed, looked upon the cavern littered with dwellings of all sizes, yes even gigantic mansions not unlike that of the Uchiha or the Hyuuga, the old man gestured expansively.
"Welcome, Naruto, to Hidden Root Village. Your home."
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(1) From "Peace Maker Kurogane", I've gathered that the suffix '-han' is the way to adress an individual by the name of the business they own.
(2) Contraction of 'Ayame (the girl's name) Onee-chan'. Litterally, 'big sis Ayame'. credit goes to Rokudaime: aksarah . com / naruto / (just take the spaces out)
(3) Uncle Teuchi (his name, if you couldn't guess); credit, again, goes to Rokudaime.
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Side-note: We just might need a beta-reader, though someone's too proud to admit it.
WHY YOU LITTLE... ::whips out trusty scythe:: DIE!!!!!