His lips were so strong as he pressed them against my skin, his hand held my neck as my head tilted a near 90 degrees. I never suppressed a single moan as he trailed firm, hot kisses up towards my ear. This is it, this is where he confessed his secret, undying love for me. I moaned his name, finally, my love was requited. My nails almost dug into his back, his sweaty skin clinging against my own. This is it, this is where I roll over in the bed…
Where I roll over in my bed, knock my head against the wall and wake up. Another dream, another fantasy gone with the sunlight. My eyes opened one by one, away from the curtain less window. I found myself alone in my bed, alone in my house, cherishing the dreams of him I often had. Grunting and stumbling out of bed, I noticed I awoke before my alarm clock. Like always. Why did I even have that thing?
The sight I saw in the mirror was a terrible one, and it kept returning night after night. It's the result of 10 hour shifts, 6 days a week, with an extra 4 hours a night of clubbing, drinking away bad thoughts. If it weren't for my existence to be going smoothly almost all day, they'd never serve me alcohol. My favourite medicine.
I passed the gates, an early Monday morning as it started with children running past me, around me, screaming my name. I shooed them inside, promising I'd be there in time. I was almost never on time though, every time I'd walk to my classroom, I'd stop at his. His smell reached my nose from behind the closed door, so strong, just like in my dreams. I never realized I was so close to his door until one of his students banged into me, smacking me against the hard wood.
"Itai…"
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Kamino-sensei! You see I was already late, so I hurried and-"
I hushed the child, pushing myself from the wood. I smiled and ruffled his hair,
"It's fine, just go inside and behave."
It was one of the newer students, one I had never seen before. But as he was in his class it meant I never would, as he taught children with 'disabilities'. Almost all of them had problems at home, resulting in difficulties at school. Either they sucked in one thing, in all things, or were great at everything. The last thing doesn't sound so bad, but it makes you cocky, arrogant and isolated from the social world. He dealt with those cases too. I on the other hand always had pretty normal, yet above average classes, quite a relief.
The door opened as the child entered, leaving me a smile I left in return. As he passed through the door it didn't close, but I wasn't bothered. I turned around and proceeded, my class was waiting for me. As well, I wasn't bothered to notice the hand that held the door open, the hand that gripped the dark wood turning its knuckles white. Eyes pierced my back but I daren't look over my shoulder, I still looked like crap from last night and surely he'd lecture me about it. Lecture me about setting a wrong example for the kids, leading an unhealthy life style. As if a shinobi's lifestyle is so safe, ne? Though I wouldn't mind one of his speeches, it's been a while since I had one. I remember the last one being scolded at me as I was in detention, his watchful eye holding me back from any new pranks.
As I still felt the eyes I shook off the thought, turning around the corner I reached my own classroom. Silent. Not one single sound. Not even their breathing could be heard. It's the way I liked it, silence in the wake of a hangover. As I entered the room, greeting the students, they kept their eyes fixated on the blackboard.
"Good morning students,"
"Good morning sensei!"
They were in perfect harmony with each other, all on one line. Unlike a certain person I knew, that certain person and his class. Unlike my class they were audible throughout the school, awakening the beast within the usually silent, gentle man.
"Today children, is the last day before your exams. I'm quite proud of all of you, you have only been in my class for almost half a year and yet. Yet you are ready to proceed, and to become the protectors, the soldiers this country needs!"
I looked upon their faces, their usually empty eyes now beamed with pride, their smiles enlightening my not so easy morning. I hung my uniform vest over the chair, my standard uniform shirt slightly less standard than the rest as it had a slight V-neck, but almost no shoulders. Reaching into my book bag my fingers brushed past a sturdy cover, filled with paper, recalling the wrong fantasy of this morning. The thought left as I pulled out different sheets of paper,
"Pop-quiz everyone!"
Not a word, not a single objection as they pulled out pens and pencils. God I loved these children, I was really going to miss them, just like the class before them. As I distributed the sheets of paper I heard a sigh of disbelief, a heavy 'huh' you could say. With one spare sheet in my hand I turned to the only sound, besides the paper and writing utensils, as it came from the open door. The man leaned casually against the door-frame, a look of disbelief across his face. The way his eyes wandered my clean classroom, my silent pupils and my godforsaken face, unmistakably annoyed. The bags under my eyes gave away at what time I went to bed, or didn't went to bed.
"Umino-sempai, can I help you?" I inquired.
"How can you treat them like that?"
"Do you mean, 'How do you keep them silent'? Or-?"
He shook his head, "No, the way you treat them! They're just children!"
By now he was halfway into my classroom, his arms spread in the air. My face was blank as I stared at the man, never did I hear any of my students stop writing or start talking. This man was abysmal yet, so intriguing. So correct and yet so wrong, or was it bad? It's only naughty in my dreams, ah fuck.
"Umino-sempai, weren't you the one who told me to take life seriously and grasp every chance at becoming a shinobi? Worthy of only serving the best of Konoha?"
His eyes went sad on me, his whole figure taken aback, "I'm preparing these children on the future they choose, the future of a soldier. I expect each and every one of them to surpass at least one teacher from this school."
"Are you suggesting it should be me?" his voice was stern, with arms crossed he stared me down. He tried to frighten me like he succeeded to do years ago, yet now, "No Umino-sempai, I'm sorry if you feel like I was."
I turned back to my desk and placed the paper in a drawer, for the rest it was clean and empty, except for one framed picture. I placed it face down before turning back to the slightly angered man. My voice was calm as my features were slightly less implying I was dead.
"Why are you not with your class? Too much to handle?" I asked, I didn't mean to be insulting which he understood. Even I, the most strict, and yet youngest teacher had a break down in class. Sighing he shook his head, arms still crossed,
"I left them with a shadow clone,"
"So I hear, you're screaming from down the hall yet you're silently before me."
His eyes were closed yet I sensed they were saddened, with a touch of anger steaming from his aura. I placed my hand on his arm and guided him to my desk,
"Take a seat Umino-sempai, enjoy the silence."
From my seat he looked up at me in a different way of disbelief, more 'relief' I suppose. As I left the classroom it stayed the same, silent 5 to 8 year olds writing on paper. His eyes beamed at their will of fire,
'So strong in these children, obviously taught by her hand.'
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