Iris, the young woman that lived across the street, was out tending to her garden again.
She swept from flower to flower, pushing and pulling the perfectly trimmed grass with her little pink toes. As she did so, she continued to smile all the while, and to anyone that was watching the scene, a sort of dreamlike atmosphere was instantly created. Her hair, dark in places, and light in others, followed the motion of her fluid dance, and as she moved from one plant to the next, the soft blades and stems curled around her feet, slowing her, as if they wanted Iris to stay with them forever. She smiled broadly and nodded towards them, as if promising that she would come back; that she would always come back, and in response, their spirits laughed along with her. She continued on her way, twirling among them.
Of course, Iris was a busy woman, and truthfully, she had little to no time to spare for these plants. But, as she cared for them as if they were her own children, she could not help but carve out a space in her calendar to spend immersed in their presence. Each flower, every day, needed to receive individual care; morning and afternoon. They needed to be watered, spoke to, consoled - perhaps even sung to, if the occasion called for it - and if they asked nicely, given special attention. Iris was a firm young woman, and she liked things to stay proper, but if her assistance, or even just another second in her attention was to be requested in such a humble way, she had no choice but to comply and give them a few extra minutes of her time. When dealing with her plants, Iris became rather soft, and today was no exception.
To her dismay - and quite possibly the plants' as well - the sun was high up in the sky; smoldering the air around it, and creating a hazy image of what neither of them, human or not, could see. And, though Iris liked to say that the excruciating heat didn't bother her, as long as she got to spend her time with her plants, that wouldn't be perfectly truthful.
The humidity in the air kept her sweating as she worked - moving with her rusty old watering can from flower to flower - and she often had to pause to take a swig of her water bottle; filled with stale tap water that was just as hot as the perspiration trickling down her temple. It had been sitting out in the sun for hours now, as she had neglected the task of placing it in the shade in her haste to see her babies, and it now tasted similar to what she assumed she would taste like, right now, as she had also been forced to endure the sun's harmful rays. It was expected, of course, as it was her own mistake, but still, she had to force herself to not cringe at the taste. Every gulp had her imaging even further that she was drinking her own sweat, and the thought did not please her. Truly, just as it did every late June in the village of Konoha, the heat wave had hit them hard.
Up until this point in the week, the weather had brought nothing but sweltering heat, forcing her to water her plants not twice a day as she normally did, but three times. Of course, it wasn't that she was complaining about getting an excuse to spend more time with her children, but even still, it was affecting her well being, and that wasn't something she could easily ignore. Lately, Iris had been getting a little short of breath, and the constant dehydration wasn't exactly helping her focus on the matter at hand either. Truly, the heat was taking a toll on her, and for her own sake, she probably should have let herself slack off for at least a day. However, simply because she loved her plants above all else, no matter how hot it may have been, she stood - ever the trooper - in her official garden outfit that was necessary to give her the full effect of the watering, still in the midst of her plants. She wasn't about to give up on them yet; heat or no heat, and nothing anyone said could stop her.
Still, though, it definitely didn't help that her outfit was made for autumn weather.
For as long as she could remember, or at least, as long as she had been living in this quaint section of Konoha, Iris had used the very same outfit for anything that had to do with her garden; whether it be in the depths of winter, or the wet, dreary days of spring. It was simply what she did, and after having worn it for years on end, she couldn't exactly switch to a different setup. Anyway, it wasn't exactly like she could afford a new outfit for every year, or for that matter, every season, so she would just have to tough it out for the time being.
Even now, despite how terribly hot it was, Iris refused to remove her countless layers of attire. Over her normal clothes, she wore a cotton apron, two wool gloves, and a pair of thick leggings made from coarse fabric to keep the dirt off when she kneeled. Her feet were protected by insulated rubber boots that could probably last her for years in the Land of Snow, and overall, there wasn't much skin showing on her person besides her face. Obviously, in some standards, this could have been considered a good thing, as being burnt by the sun was just as dangerous as being overheated by it, but no matter how you sliced it, wearing such thick layers of clothing - which were quite obviously made for much colder weather - wasn't the healthiest choice for the state of her body. If she wanted to last long enough to care for each and every plant in that garden for the rest of their annual lives, she would have to be careful, and, it would probably only help her cause if she switched out the uniform made for abrasive environments to one that suited the mostly calm climate that she found herself in. However, as Iris was not one to waste, especially when it came to money, she had made no plans to do so. This was what she got all year round, and, as her budget was a little low at the moment, it just wasn't worth it to complain. She would just have to risk getting heatstroke.
With a sigh that was most definitely not the first in her day, Iris raised a hand to wipe away the sweat that had mysteriously replenished itself on her forehead. In hand was her rusty watering can, and as she tilted it downwards to water a particularly droopy petunia, she watched the outpour of thick droplets with an envious eye. Oh, how she longed to soak herself with it as well. Unlike her own water bottle, which still sat stale and practically boiling, the water in her can had been pumped fresh from the short hose connected to her house, and as she had refilled the can many times already, the water inside the pump was now flowing properly, and cool water spouted from the open end of the tube. All that currently occupied her mind was the selfish wish to pour it over her head.
All she had to do to gain sweet relief was halt the flow. She could raise it to her head, dump it over herself and relish in the feel of the cool water sloshing against her sticky body. It wasn't that difficult a task, and if that wasn't enough, she could always hook the end up to a sprinkler and stand directly in front of it; letting the water soak her clothes.
She took in a hasty breath. The relief would be worth getting the ground muddy, and letting her plants wait just a bit longer than usual, right?
...Right?
Tilting the can teasingly downwards, Iris again watched as groups of droplets staying suspended in the air for seconds at a time before finally crashing down among the silk leaves; caressing them in its liquid embrace. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, and as she set her mouth in a firm line, she hesitantly stopped the flow and brought the can up to her eyes, measuring her options.
Just a little sprinkle wouldn't hurt… If she just-
No, she suddenly stopped herself.
She made a point of slapping her hand.
No. Her babies needed the water more than she, and even though she could've just poured it over her head right then and there, and had it refilled within the minute, she came to the conclusion that any slackish behavior was not to be welcomed in her garden. She needed to keep her mind on what was really important.
The thought of even touching the water vanished from her mind as a broad smile once again graced her features, and she stared lovingly at her plants. Iris tilting the nozzle of the can back down so that it faced that very same, thirsty petunia, and this time, as she watched the water flow out from the head, she didn't allow herself to become jealous. Yes, she still wanted terribly to douse herself in that water, but even the thought of her plants having to suffer for another moment longer had her grinning as if she wasn't scorching hot; the corners of her lips tilting upwards towards the sun.
Even though it was paining her in more ways than one, and causing more problems than she had the strength to deal with, Iris felt no remorse towards the star that burned her so. The sun was simply there to help her flowers grow. Nothing more, and nothing less. She could not hate her family's life line, and even if she was led to feel disdain for it for but a second, ultimately, she could not wish for it to disappear, because if she did, her plants would vanish along with it. Iris couldn't have that; they were her family, and she planned to keep them safe. If it was in their best case of interest, then her own concerns meant nothing. That was the way it should be, and even though her wayward heart so longed to break the mold, in the end, the final verdict was always ruled in their favor. Truly, it was often that Iris was led to think this way, and for the sake of her plants, Iris decided that she didn't mind. She was only but a slave to their beauty.
With a firm nod, she decided that she could easily maintain herself for another hour at least. Her plants were much more important than her gluttonous desires, and anyway, looking at them so happy - feeling how happy they were - was enough to satisfy her appetite for the time being.
Iris looked back onto her darlings, and shifted her position slightly, so she was now watering a marigold. Still, she held the same grip on her watering can, and also, to the grin on her face; which in turn made the flowers shiver with delight, as they all chorused the same joyous line.
Mommy was happy again!
Even more so than before, she smiled as they conveyed these words to her; thinking of how she wouldn't give this up for the world.
Though many a people living in Konoha did not understand the relationship Iris had with her plants, Iris did not feel threatened or obligated to change. She simply didn't feel at home anywhere else than her garden. It was her escape from reality; her own little world, and though many of them completely disapproved of her self-employed passion, she decided that she just didn't care.
Well...maybe she cared just a little bit.
If she was being truthful, Iris would have to say that their words definitely stung. Deep down, she worried about what they thought of her, and though outwardly she appeared as though she didn't care, within the sanctity of her thoughts, she allowed herself to vent a little of her fears and frustrations. Truly, she wanted to be what they envisioned of her; she wanted to be the girl they spoke of, the girl that had so much talent that she could do anything. Iris wanted to live up to what they said about her; she wanted to be just as intelligent, beautiful, and capable as they thought she was. She wanted to be able to help the village.
However, despite their praise, that just wasn't her. Even though they said they admired her, they looked down upon the only thing that was actually true about her, which would be her relationship with her plants. They, being the superstitious housewives that they were, thought that it was simply a frivolous time-waster, and that it could never be considered an actual job. They thought it wasn't right for a girl like her, and that she should be putting her talents into other, more important things.
Of course, they had never actually been able to answer just what those 'important' tasks were, but they tried to justify their reasoning by saying that in caring for plants, she was neglecting her late parents; which was really just them trying to make her feel guilty. They said that since she had an elderly mother and father to support, who even now refused to move into an old folk's home, she was 'abandoning them', and in tending to her garden each day, she was somehow making them deteriorate at a faster level than they should have been.
Obviously, what they didn't know, was that she still cared for them dearly, and that she even did part-time jobs late at night to pay for their expenses, but as they had already proved themselves to be so stubborn, Iris wasn't about to tell them that. Truly, if they had done even an inch of research to back up their claims, they surely would have already known that she completely supported both herself and them financially. And, if she was still getting by, then surely again, they shouldn't have been able to complain; especially when added with the fact that said parents had openly said they were completely happy with how their daughter was living her life.
Perhaps, they wished she didn't work herself so hard, but still, they were happy, simply because Iris was. If she wanted this, then that was what they wanted for her too, as truly, the only thing they wished for their beautiful daughter was happiness. The villagers would have known that, had they actually tried to learn. And though Iris liked to think of herself as a mellow person, she was becoming both unnerved and annoyed by their foolish and uneducated claims.
Accusations like this were made almost daily, during a time, and, though they had little to no truth to them at all - and definitely no actual research - they had cut pretty deep. Sure, she knew the truth; Iris knew that she had never abandoned her parents, but even still, the harsh words of the villagers had even her doubting what she knew for a fact to be right - at least for a time. Of course, she quickly got over it, after she realized that if anything, it was them not paying attention to her parents, and not her, but still, the memory of her weakened self esteem was fresh in her mind.
Iris still, even now, though she had long since overlooked it, worried about what claim the villagers would bring next. She wondered if one of them, the next time, or the one after that, would actually be true. Obviously, the accusation of her abandoning her parents had been proven false, and that should have been enough assurance to convince herself that they were never going to come up with a rational story, but even still, she worried. Iris didn't want to have to leave this town, like she had been forced to leave the others. She liked it too much here, despite the negative attitude of her neighbors towards her beloved hobby, and the thought of having to pack her things for what seemed like the hundredth time broke her heart. She didn't want to go.
Of course, she had tried to simply ignore all of the villagers' comments and move on with her life, but it hadn't worked. Yes, it had been successful for a while, as she truly wasn't bothered by anything they said after years upon years of hearing the exact same things not-so-quietly whispered behind her back, but as the threats became more serious, her anxiousness returned as well. For some time, she tried laughing the things they did and said off, but when one of them had the audacity to damage her garden, she had declared it to be the last straw. To her, it was unforgivable that they would do such a thing, and she could no longer see the amusement in wondering why they got so heated up about her life, though she didn't have any relations to any of them. She was finished with being the nice guy. And it was simply too late for apologies.
On that fateful day, she had stormed into each of their houses - at least the ones with occupants she knew to have been rude to her on any occasion - and she gave every single one a separate piece of her mind. The woman who had said her hobby was useless got a heated scolding. The man who had refused to talk to her after he found himself believing that Iris neglected her parents was forced to weed her strawberries. And the group who had torn up a section of her garden?
You don't want to know.
All that is necessary to take from this, is that Iris was left alone from that point on. Afterwards, she felt a little guilty about how harshly she had taken it out on her neighbors, but after some time, she realized that they deserved it. Of course, per her plants request, she had apologized to every single one, and in turn, most of them apologized to her, as they hadn't realized just how much she cared for the plants in her garden, but even still, she found it a little hard to forgive; at least not right away.
It took a while, as Iris definitely needed a bit of time to adjust, but eventually, she allowed herself to interact with her neighbors again. For a good year, she had remorsed; doing what she did best - which would be watering her plants - and after emerging from it, she felt like a new woman.
Now, she was confident, despite what the people of the village may or may not continue to say. Iris would just keep tending to her garden. That's what she would do.
There would be no switch to her becoming a teacher at the academy like they all so longed her to. She would not become a nurse at the local hospital. And no, she would most definitely not become a ninja either. She didn't want to be reminded of something unnecessary.
Iris was perfectly suited to the contours of the little world she had created, and she was content.
She would care for her flowers until the day she died.
And nothing - not even an unwelcome visit from an old enemy - would stop her.