Author's Notes: It's been a while hasn't it? I have no excuses for my long absences except that real life and the first year of college tend to be more exciting/stressful/insane than anyone can possibly expect. I sincerely apologize to anyone that's been waiting for me to update my stories. Moral Intentions is a way for me to get back into the writing loop. Trust me, I am extremely rusty.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedicated: all those who have been waiting.
Moral Intentions
When the Hokage took it upon his meddlesome old self to declare that Anko was being more suicidal than usual and assigned her to humdrum Academy duty, Anko wasn't about to go down without a fight. Poor Hyuuga Hinata just happened to be too much of a helpless duckling to avoid Anko's machinations. [teacherfic]
Prologue
"Excuse me?" Her voice was beginning to reach pitches that would give his wife a run for her money, even on those really bad days that Shikamaru skipped chores.
"You heard me." Jounin Commander Nara Shikaku's voice was calm and levelheaded, at least as calm and levelheaded one could possibly be when faced with a prickly, spiky, hissing Mitarashi. Officially, Anko was off duty and at rest. Unofficially, she was probably bristling a whole armory of sharp objects on her scantily clad person.
"It is the Hokage's and my shared judgment that you jave been overworking yourself lately. You have been ordered to remain in the village for the time being," Shikaku said carefully. Any sane ninja would have bowed gratefully for such a lucky reprieve from active duty. However, when it came to Mitarashi Anko, any kinds of standards for sanity, both common sense and medical, could go royally screw themselves. Personally, Shikaku belonged to the traditional camp of thought that said such unstable ninja ought to be gracefully but quietly dismissed. Mitarashi Anko and her like were the throwback of an unstable era and as much a risk to themselves as they were to the people around them. Professionally, Shikaku acknowledged that Anko had done more than her fair share in reviving Konoha's economy this past decade. Anko had a sick talent for completing strings of suicidal missions promptly and profitably. Konohagakure's good name and standing among the shady commercial community where blood was a commodity rested just as much on her shoulders as it did on the shadowy backs of the ANBU. Her being able to stand in his office this very day when other loyal ninjas had fallen was as much an indication of lady fate's fickle humor as it was of her skill. But cosmic joke or no cosmic joke, the snarl on Anko's face was not funny at all.
"You're assigning me to Academy duty?"
Tokubetsu Jonin Mitarashi Anko, neighborhood psychotic and local Konohagakure parents' most hated influence on impressionable children, assigned to Academy duty. Really.
"The young ones can only benefit from being exposed to a professional such as yourself," Shikaku said with a barely restrained grimace. Anko's eyes narrowed. Her hands were poised in the crooks of her arms, no doubt stroking whatever weaponry she had concealed underneath her tight clothing.
"Little guppies, the lot of them," Anko grumbled. Academy Duty was for weak Chuunin and retired Jounin, which she was neither and swore never to be. She'll put a kunai through her own throat first.
Ah hell.
Shikaku tensed.
"Well if the Hokage wants me teaching the brats, how can I possibly say no?" Anko finally said, her hands nonchalantly drifting down to her sides. "Who knows, maybe I'll even have some fun."
Shikaku cleared his throat. He really didn't want to know what Anko meant by "fun".
"I think I heard the Academy Bell ringing just now. Best not be late," Shikaku said with a straight face.
"Fuck you," came Anko's eloquent reply.
Shikaku sighed. He couldn't really expect her to be perfectly behaved for a whole debriefing, could he?
Umino Iruka was a good man.
Sure he wasn't the best shinobi, but he approached his work with dedication and devotion. He was just as loyal as any another hell-raising ANBU, and he preferred working with children over month-long assassinations. IRukawas one of those rare shinobi that had a heart of gold even by civilian standards. His ability to sleep easy at night made more than a few Jounins wish they had chosen his career path.
Umino Iruka didn't think anyone wanted to be in his position right now though.
When she hadn't showed up at the beginning of lessons, Umino Iruka had hoped that it was all just one big, fat mistake in paperwork. Surely the Hokage wasn't that senile. But just in case, he kept one eye on the closed classroom door even as he read the history textbook aloud. But history tends to have a lulling effect even on the best of us, and the enraged curse wasn't nearly enough warning before the door imploded in a shower of wooden splinters.
"Well hello, my mindless guppies! Has Iruka-chan here taught you all the proper ways to gut a man? Remember, go in at the wrong angle and you'll hit bone, but don't be too much of a pansy, or else you won't even get past the abdominal muscles. Blood is just terrible on laundry—"
"Mitarashi," Iruka grounded out as he stared at the sad remnants of the door. But it was much too late. His students were already going a nice shade of broccoli green.
"—be doubly careful not to puncture the organs or else the intestinal fluids will mix with the blood—"
Oh yes, some of the girls were definitely swaying in their seats by now.
"You have splinters on your clothes," Iruka interrupted, correctly figuring a comment on her clothing would grab this particular woman's attention faster than any kind of screaming about children's delicate sensibilities. Anko blinked.
"And this was my favorite jacket too," she pouted.
"Perhaps you would like to go to the restroom," Iruka suggested delicately even as he pinched the bridge of his nose to fight a growing headache.
"Ach, there's no need." Before Iruka could stop her, Anko shrugged off her jacket. The classroom promptly descended into deathly silence as she nonchalantly shook door-corpse-bits out of her jacket. By the time she slid the jacket back on, most of the boys were already rolling in the dirtiest, deepest, most fish-net-y gutters their preteen minds could conjure. The girls settled for grinding their teeth and biting their lips furiously.
"What are you doing here?" Iruka wearily asked, giving up at any pretense of classroom order.
"What else? The old man assigned me here," Anko growled. "Didn't you get the memo?"
"I was hoping it was just a hung-over secretary…" Iruka muttered. Before he could continue however, a certain orange-clad student took it upon himself to ask the question haunting every shell-shocked student.
"Who the hell are you!" Iruka outright paled as Anko swung her sharp gaze around. Trust Naruto to be the one standing up and rudely pointing at the most dangerous ninja in the room.
Iruka hid his face in his hands. Good lord, he was not getting paid enough for this.
Anko's eyes narrowed and skimmed over the telltale whiskered cheeks. Kyuubi. Although she kept an easy smile on her face, her fingers twitched. "Shouldn't I be asking that question?" Anko said sweetly.
"My name is Uzumaki Naruto! I'm going to be greatest ninja ever!" Naruto proudly announced, ignoring the sounds of derision coming from his classmates.
"Well—" Anko paused. She scrutinized the blonde child, and let her hand drift toward her weapon pouches. "Uzumaki Naruto, can you do me a favor?" Anko asked sweetly even as her hands wound about two kunai.
"You still haven't answered my question!" Naruto protested before a lazy flick of her hand sent an inch of blond hair drifting onto the ground. To his credit, he only blanched.
"I don't like to repeat myself," Anko said with a toothy, feral smile. "I'll take it as a yes. So do me a favor and sit your ass down." The second kunai was enough to send the poor kid scrambling onto his chair.
"Not as bad as I thought," Anko grudgingly muttered. "Now back to our original topic…" Anko's hand snaked out and grabbed Iruka's chin firmly. Iruka grudgingly allowed himself be pulled forward until his face was barely an inch away from her own.
"Yes?" Iruka gulped. He tried his best to fight a blush. Psychotic as she was, Anko was an extremely attractive woman, and she knew it. Anko gave a breathy chuckle before she rested her lips near his flaming ears.
"Who the fuck closes classroom doors?" Anko shrieked.
Ow.
Ears ringing, Iruka barely caught himself as Anko roughly shoved him onto the floor. Having gotten rid of her burden, Anko nimbly leaped onto the teacher's desk.
"Oi, guppies!" she roared, stomping on the desk for good measure.
Even Naruto, bless his stupid curious soul, fell silent.
"My name is Mitarashi Anko. I will be one of your Academy instructors starting today. Try not to piss me off and we'll get along just fine," Anko said ominously.
"Mitarashi-sensei?" a certain pink-haired guppy dared to raise her hand.
"Spit it out," Anko said casually.
"Um… w-what will you be teaching us exactly?" Sakura ventured.
"I haven't decided. Maybe we'll start the lesson on gutting? I'm sure that pretty pink hair of yours would still look nice enough without a body," Anko said slyly.
To the students' credit, most of them knew better than to scream.
"Don't bully Sakura-chan!" Naruto yelled, playing white knight to reluctant damsel in distress.
"I am not your Sakura-chan!" Sakura hissed back, even as she kept two wary eyes on Anko's amused face.
"I think it's time for lunch and recess. We'll do some shruiken practice later," Iruka wisely said into the uneasy, awkward silence.
Anko cackled.
My first attempt at a gen-teacher fic. Kindly let me know about your opinions and views. This author will give you Itachi-shaped cupcakes.
Although I am a total hypocrite: golden cycle!
Review. :)
