"Hokage-sama, I'm have something to report," Iruka said.
"Yes, Iruka?" the Sandaime responded, looking up from his paperwork. It had been a while since the chunin had come in to report of his own accord.
"Hiroto-kun," Iruka said resolutely. The Hokage let out a breath he had been holding and shifted in his chair. He pulled open a drawer on the left side of his desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper from it, setting it on the desk. He looked back up at Iruka, prompting him to continue.
"Three weeks ago, as you know, Hiroto came into class with bruises on his wrists," Iruka stated, "Yesterday, he was in very bad spirits and refused to participate in kunai practice. When I asked him why, he wouldn't respond. It was only when I suggested that he go to see the school nurse that he joined the practice. Normally, he's right handed, but he only used his left during practice, and heavily favored his left hand all day."
The Sandaime nodded, and made a few marks on the form, then paused.
"I know that you are confident that this needs to be dealt with now, but this is only the second incident," the Hokage said, "do you have any compelling evidence that leads you to believe we should forgo the three-incident minimum before and investigation?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama. His father, who recently became a jounin, returned from a mission last night and…" Iruka paused briefly "I understand that some ANBU returned last night as well."
The Hokage nodded. Though the members of ANBU were technically classified, it was pretty easy to figure it out if you just put your mind to it. It was in a sense a public secret, something that everyone—at least all ninjas above the rank of chunin—knew, but never talked about it.
"Thank you, Iruka," he said, "I will send some people to deal with it."
"Not ANBU?" Iruka asked anxiously, "They all share such a close connection, and—"
"No, not ANBU," the Hokage nodded, "and perhaps, you should take Hiroto-kun out to ramen this evening."
"Of course Hokage-sama," Iruka said. He bowed and left the office, taking off down the stairs and out of the building. That route was rarely ever used, as most Konoha-nin preferred flashier entrances when speaking with the Hokage, usually teleporting, or climbing in through a window. Iruka just didn't feel very flashy. In fact, he felt horrible. He hated this kind of stuff.
There were many things that were considered to be top secret in Konoha, all of which pertained to the security of the village against outside threats. However, the best kept secret of Konoha was undoubtedly the high rate of occurrence of domestic violence.
It was something that was never published in annual reports, and God forbid, never mentioned to children or civilians. Though it was addressed in training to become a teacher at the academy, and to newly initiated jounin, but that was all, but Iruka knew that that was not nearly enough.
Iruka continued walking, his brow furrowed. I mean come on, they lived in a village full of ninja; soldiers, who were constantly subjected to things that no human should have to face. They faced horror and death as a matter of routine, and just had to carry on fighting. It was no wonder that sometimes when they came home from a mission, they had trouble adjusting.
Iruka loved Konoha, but he hated that though everyone was so willing to fight for the hidden village, no one seemed to realize the depth of the internal problems that they faced.
When Iruka reached the playground next to the academy, he wasn't surprised to see Hiroto still there, sitting sedately on a swing, though most of the other children had already gone home. The swing twisted back and forth slowly as Hiroto stared at the ground. Iruka let out a sigh. He felt horrible; dealing with this kind of situation was the one part of his job that he hated the most, but he knew that if handled correctly, it was also the most rewarding.
He took a deep breath, and released it, letting it bring a smile onto his face.
"Hiroto-kun!" he called, waving at the boy, who looked up surprised, "It's getting pretty late, have you been here all afternoon and not eaten anything?"
The boy nodded. He wasn't normally this shy, Iruka noted.
"Why don't you come with me to Ichiraku's?" Iruka asked, smiling kindly at the boy, "You're a growing boy; you need to eat, if you want to become a fine ninja."
"My mom wants me back home for dinner," he said, obviously not eager to go.
"Well when I was your age, I know that I could eat three bowls of ramen and still be hungry. I'm sure we won't spoil your appetite, and I'm sure your mother won't mind you getting a little pre-dinner snack with your sensei."
"Ok," Hiroto smiled back a little.
The two walked together to Ichiraku's, and Iruka bantered about this and that, telling a few funny stories. Iruka knew that he should keep Hiroto occupied for at least an hour. Luckily, it's easy to get kids to lose track of time, and it was quite a while before Hiroto realized it was getting late.
Iruka walked him back home, casually yet emphatically telling Hiroto that he would explain to his parents why he was late, and that it was entirely Iruka's fault.
Of course, Iruka knew that we would not need to do any explaining; as he expected, when they arrived at the apartment, only Hiroto's mother was there. She embraced her child when he came through the door, and exchanged a nod and a sad smile with Iruka.
The people of Konoha were fighters, and he knew that Hiroto and his mother would be all right. Even Hiroto's father would continue on, if not as a parent, then as a soldier, who would willingly and faithfully fight to the death to protect the village's borders. It was hard sometimes, but Iruka was glad to live in Konoha, to bear the will of fire, and to be one of the few soldiers who fought a different kind of battle to protect his home.
Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed the fic. Please review; constructive criticism is highly appreciated, but I would also just love to hear whether you liked/hated/loved it, so even a super short review would make my day.