Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I don't even know the fine folks who do, but I adore them anyway. And this, alas, will be true for the entire story. Disclaimer covers all chapters to follow.
This story is also a prequel to The Space In Between. Prequels have the advantage that you don't have to read the other story first (or ever). I'm trying to get the sequel at least two-thirds finished before starting to post it. This plot bunny is one rabid rabbit! I hope you enjoy it...
Chapter One
"Mama!" A boy no taller than three feet, brown eyes as big as saucers in panic, cried out as he ran. His little legs churned and the dirt flew from beneath his sandals as he shot around the front corner of his house, digging in hard to make the sharp turn. The dash was taking all of his breath but terror fueled the extra air pressure to call loudly for rescue. "Mama!"
The dark-haired kunoichi paused from her work at the sight of her son barreling towards her in the bright morning light. She reached down and caught him easily by the collar as he tried to dart past her to the front steps, lifting him in the air single-handed with his feet still churning. Without breaking stride she pulled him right back in the direction he had been fleeing from.
Dozens of huge, angry bee summons banked in the air, rounding the corner in pursuit and drilling right at the terrified boy as she held him up in front of her. The threatening sound of their buzzing wings grew louder still, filling the air. Her free hand drew her kunai from her belly holster and she picked them off one by one as soon as they reached arm's length from her son. She let the last one get close enough that the pieces of vanquished insect peppered his little face.
She gave him a good shake and released him. He landed heavily and had to take a step back to keep from toppling over. When she saw he was steady on his feet she bent down calmly and gave his panting, upturned face a firm slap, eliciting a wince and gasp. "Umino Iruka, I have told you before! Never panic! Ever!"
The frowning woman stood back with her hands on her hips, towering over him. His hand flew to the red palm-print on his cheek and his plump lower lip quivered, but he would not cry. He knew that would be wrong.
"Three mistakes!" she stated firmly. "Name them!"
"Never panic," he repeated quickly, still panting. "Uh…don't yell don't run away?"
"Never panic. Never interact with unfamiliar summons. Never leave the house unarmed! With your kunai you could have dispelled them easily!" She leaned down to look him right in the eye, watching closely for any un-shinobi-like flinching. "And what about your mission?" she said tightly.
He concentrated fiercely on making his hand stop shaking. His breathing was slowing down to a nearly normal rate, and he fixed his soft jaw in firm determination. Opening his small fist, he showed that he still held the coin folded in the note. "Still in progress!" he said in his best tough soldier voice.
"Yes! So you have not failed!" his mom said, giving his shoulder a congratulatory squeeze. "Mistakes were made but your choices resulted in the safe continuation of the mission! Ready to re-deploy?"
"Yes. Ma'am!" He planted his sandals firmly and clenched his hand back into its death grip.
"Then go. And don't come back without that package!" She turned away without watching him go, wiping the bug juice off the kunai onto the seat of her fatigues and sheathing it absently. With a deep breath to clear her mind she returned to her training exercises, skimming her powerful skilled hands with blinding speed as she created a web of water and began working on her timing and accuracy for using it as a snare once more.
Iruka stole a guilty glance back at her and thundered up the steps into the house, running down the hallway and fighting down the very same un-shinobi-like reactions she had been watching him for. He rummaged in his bedside table for his junior kunai. I was only when he had it holstered in his belt that he took his own deep breath, moving a little more deliberately back out into the front yard to avoid distracting his mother from her training again.
He felt the pounding in his chest start up again at the thought of venturing back out. He ducked his head out to take a stealthy look around the corner before moving on. Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen now. He set his jaw and stepped out, one hand squeezing his payload, one hovering over his weapon.
He was pretty attentive and focused at first, walking while observing everything and everyone with his sparkling dark eyes. Starting out with the chase fresh in his mind helped him to remember to be on guard like he was supposed to. But then his sandal caught a pebble, and it hopped and then rolled directly ahead of him playfully. So he sort of felt obligated to give it another kick and see if he could make it come along with him. Kicking it ahead, his attention shifted to his accuracy, and the need to scan for danger in the midst of his own safe village faded. He kept up this game of kick-the-stone until he lost concentration on it as well.
I have to do better, he thought with a frown. I have to get into the academy this year! I'm already four and a half. The really special kids my age made it in right at four, a few even before that. If I don't get in this time I'll be five before I get in. Or maybe six. Or maybe never!
He didn't want to even consider what his mama would do if he couldn't ever get in.
But he was pretty sure monsters would be involved in it.
His short legs worked heroically and took him to the village herb and medicinal shop. He reached up and tapped the countertop with an urgent hand.
The old woman rose from her stool and came to investigate the noise, watching the small boy appear from the concealment of the counter's height as she approached.
"Iruka-kun, what brings you here today?" she said with a genuine smile. Such a cute little boy, so serious and wide-eyed. When she first saw him as a toddler tagging along with his mother, she had asked what the little girl's name was. Iruka had laughed, his little voice like a bubbling brook, but his mother had scowled rather severely and corrected her in no uncertain terms.
Iruka held out his hand and uncurled his little fingers. She took the note and unfolded it, removing the coin and smoothing out the creases. Gnarled hands took the glasses that hung on a beaded chain around her neck and settled them on her nose, peering at the regimented printing.
"Ah-ha. One moment, young man." She shuffled back to a shelf and selected a jar, measuring a scoop of yellow powder into a small baggie, the placing it on a pharmacist's scale. Perfect, just as her experience hand and eye had estimated. She sealed it with a tamper-proof sticker, and then pulled another jar down. Four round pills went in the next clear bag. She sealed it as well, placing both of the items into a brown paper bag. She wrote out the receipt and put it in the bag, stapling it shut.
"Who's going on the mission, little one? Mama or Papa?" The Uminos were a very practical couple, only purchasing enough soldier pills and healing powders for each mission just prior to departure.
Iruka shrugged, not knowing the answer and not sure why the lady was asking. His parents were always either on a mission, coming back from one, or getting ready for their next one. They were shinobi! Why even ask such a question?
But missions were secret and dangerous and important, and maybe people with such claw-like hands were just the kind of people you'd better not tell anything to.
"You shouldn't ask about missions, they're secret," Iruka scolded in his best mother's tone.
The old woman suppressed a smile. The tyke did a passable imitation of his battle-hardened dam.
"Of course, and you're a very good ninja not to be tricked into talking."
Iruka nodded with dignity and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. "Here is your purchase, Iruka dear. Be sure to take it straight home, those are very dangerous chemicals your mother is entrusting you with."
"Yes, Mikoko-sama. Thank you and be on your guard!" he said cheerfully and held the bag to his chest with both hands. His brown eyes crinkled shut for a moment as he smiled at the prospect of successfully completing his mission.
"You're welcome, Iruka. You be careful as well." She watched him as he went out the door, shaking her head in wonder. Some of the little boys his age were already becoming a tad tough and arrogant, but Iruka was always so very likable and engaging.
And she much preferred his in-shop manners to his mother's. That woman drove a hard bargain indeed.
o0o0o0o
Iruka crawled up into the big chair onto his mother's lap and she held the book aside while he settled in.
"Thank you for your hard work today!" she said, smiling proudly. Iruka smiled and wiggled with happy pride, anxiously waiting for his reward.
"I see you picked the same story again. Good selection!" his mother said approvingly. It wasn't Iruka's favorite story, not by a long shot, but his mother always seemed so pleased when he picked it that he chose it often.
"Okay, are you ready?" Iruka leaned into her side and held still and quiet, listening intently and trying to read along as she started the story. "Once, in the land of fire and bravery, lived a young shinobi and a young kunoichi. They lived by themselves as ninja of the forest, and they were proud to do so. Their parents died when they were very small but they were clever and resourceful and they never wanted for a thing. Then one day invaders came to their land."
"Sio, the young man, fought bravely and never gave up. His sister, Yana, fought just as hard. But in the end they were overrun. The enemy took Yana and made her their handmaiden. They left Sio hanging in a tree breathing his last, his young body pierced with many kunai, as a warning to the other forest dwelling ninja."
As she continually turned the large, colorful pages filled with beautifully illustrated forest scenes, intricate clothing and weapons, and explicitly depicted torture and gore, Iruka snuggled in. More and more he relaxed in the warmth of being nestled up under her strong arm as it made the slight movements of flipping to the next page. It was a good feeling and he loved it even more than the story-telling. But the day had been long and stressful and though he tried hard to fight it, he soon grew still.
When his head dropped forward she stopped reading, chuckling and resting her cheek briefly on the top of his head. She indulged in a brief swell of pride. He tried so hard to stay awake; she knew he loved his stories, especially the ones that taught the values important for brave shinobi life.
"I'll take him," offered her husband, and she opened her arms and let the dozing boy be lifted and carried away by his big, strong father. They made a handsome pair, one at the peak of his mature adult power, and the other like a little sponge to be filled with their wisdom and training, to surpass them both one day.
His father liked to put the boy to bed, there were never any spankings or arguments at bedtime like there had been when he was a boy. Iruka was such a cooperative child, it worried him a bit that he was so peaceable, affectionate and open. They tried to discourage it to a degree, and his wife was far better at it than he was. Something in his son's brilliant smile filled him with the irresistible urge to smile back, and his warm hugs and impulsive kisses made him want to return them. But Iruka was getting too old for those childish habits. His father surprised himself at feeling regret that it was time to start breaking him of them.
The elder Umino found that he wasn't completely in agreement with enforcing a no-affections policy at this age, not when their son's unique personality seemed to be filled with so much of it.
"Son," he sighed, prying his way out of the goodnight embrace, "you're getting to be a little old for this."
He supposed that he had expected the look on Iruka's face, but expecting it didn't help much.
"You won't tell me goodnight any more?" he quavered.
"Of course I'll tell you goodnight! But the hugging and the kiss, that's…well, you don't see the warriors in your adventure books getting kisses goodnight from their parents, do you?"
"They don't show 'em going to the bathroom, either, but I bet they do all those things. They just don't show it in the book."
"Er…okay, forget that example." Iruka was an excellent debater for his age. He should have known that the impassioned little boy would be fiercely defensive of this and bring his little lightning mind into the fray. "It's just a part of being a shinobi, son. Everyone has emotions, of course, but they have to be trained, too, just like your body. You have to be in control. The more perfect your control, the better shinobi you are."
"A hug goodnight is out of control?"
"If you have to have it, it is."
Iruka frowned, taking that in. "So if I have to have it, I can't have it at all?"
"You need to start adjusting to the idea of not being so open with your affections. It can be a sign of weakness."
"Aren't you old and aren't you doing it, too? You're not weak!"
"I…" he knit his brow and their eyes locked. He started to object, and then stopped. Iruka had him dead to rights. His son had the excuse of youth, but he himself had none, other than the fact that he had the most lovable son a father could ever be blessed with. He sighed.
"Yes and no. I suppose I am weak in a way, your mother is very clear in her opinion that this little ritual of ours is unseemly."
Iruka's lower lip was starting to jut, and his father knew that, if anything, not only had he failed to sway the boy, but he had perhaps made him more stubbornly determined to defend his position.
"A compromise, then. Between us, we may agree to have small displays of caring. But in order to live properly as shinobi, no one else can know."
Iruka considered, then softened and nodded. "That means I get my goodnights, right?"
"Only when we have proper privacy. And not forever, son. Just until you get a little older."
There might have been a viable argument for letting the boy have a little more emotional leeway if times had not been so dangerous and uncertain, but sadly that wasn't the case. So they treated their bedtime ritual as if it were a vital village secret.
There was no secret more precious for Iruka. His fierce determination delayed the end of his nighttime ritual for three more years; and if anything, it convinced him that his father was not weak at all. He was brave to defy the unspoken pressure to pretend he didn't care, and that form of bravery was a life-long lesson Iruka embraced with pride.
tbc