Title: Phish and Phlattery: Iruka-Centric Drabbles.
Author: CopyNinAstral (~Astral~)
Fandom/Pairing: Naruto. Kakashi and Iruka.
Rating: K+ ((Just for the implications~))
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Note: I know. Really, I do. I'm an awful updater, mainly because my writing style has changed so much between when I first started and now. Please know that I already have four more of these chapters lined up and finished, and I will be updating them weekly as best I can. If you're still reading, you are awesome, and thank you. Really, thank you. :)
WHY SENSEI!
Konohamaru was grinning from ear to ear. His classmates kept shooting him looks. That little Hyuuga girl kept frowning disapprovingly at him, though she frowned disapprovingly at pretty much everybody, except for Iruka-sensei, of course.
Moegi was smiling prettily at him, hoping that that expression meant something that would let them off the hook for last night's homework, because Haku's Salon Take Over was on last night. And she had followed all the previous four seasons religiously, so there was no way she missed last night's. Especially when it took place in Rain Country, where her mother's family was from.
But, Konohamaru kept grinning. The class was getting restless, but he held stock still, the perfect exemplar of a student.
About five minutes after the bell had rung, Moegi realized that Iruka-sensei hadn't shown up yet. She stopped looking at Konohamaru—because to be quite frank, his posing was starting to creep her out—and glanced at Hanabi, who was looking around subtly but nervously. Moegi turned around in her seat to face Udon. He sniffled and popped a finger into his mouth. She was glad she had given him hand sanitizer for his birthday, but she was even gladder that she had gotten herself a small bottle as well.
"What?" He asked congestedly.
"Where's Iruka-sensei?" She hissed quietly. Udon shrugged. Moegi rolled her eyes and turned back around.
Ten minutes after the bell had rung, Iruka Umino was still a no-show.
This was unheard of.
At her desk in the front, Hanabi's eyes were watering. She refused to cry! It showed weakness, and she was not after all, Hinata. She rubbed her eyes, and turned to ask Ayaka, "Do you think Iruka-sensei is okay?"
Ayaka was currently busy biting her nails, not that she really had any left by this point in time. But she courteously stopped and addressed Hanabi, "I hope so."
Hanabi nodded. Friends were good things, she supposed.
A good twenty minutes after the bell had rung, there was a group in the back who had pulled out a deck of cards from a backpack and was playing Bull Shit—to hone their ninja skills if anyone (teacher-wise) were to ask. They had pushed the desks out of the way to accommodate for more students.
Hanabi was writing her Last Will and Testament on a sheet of loose-leaf, and Moegi and Ayaka were discussing the final results of Fire Country Idol. Udon was picking his nose again. And doing other things but not when people were watching….he hoped.
Konohamaru was still grinning. And every three or so minutes he would chuckle lightly to himself.
Iruka groaned as he neared his classroom door. Never! Never late! That was his philosophy for his students, not so much as to instill good behavior into them, but more for his own survival. He looked at the strip of glass on the door before him. At least they can't see me coming…. He noted as he watched the blue paint drip down the other side. A lesser man would have whimpered.
He turned the knob and, letting go, he kicked open the door.
Confetti fell to the ground along with a rather heavy paper kunai the length of his arm. Iruka waited for everything to fall and stepped over it all to his desk. Don't look, don't look.
"Why Sensei, you're late!" Konohamaru said brightly, hands clasped upon his desk. He smiled widely.
"What're you gonna do? Fire me?" Iruka hissed, eyes darkening as he shoved all that he carried onto his desk and scrubbed a hand down his face. The class shivered. Collectively. Iruka slowly closed and opened his eyes. There were no cards, no blue paint, no confetti, no tastefully arranged flowers, and all the students were secure in their seats, each before a desk.
Growling to himself, Iruka broke four pieces of chalk as he diagramed the chakra-flow charts on the blackboard. Internally, he contemplated his complete list of revenge against two particular ninja, each at the opposite end of the spectrum.
One Academy Student, who shall remain nameless.
And one particularly randy Ex-Anbu Jounin, who shall be sleeping on the couch for the next eternity.