Collision Course
Six year old Uzumaki Naruto was cold, wet, tired, and hungry. This was not a new state of affairs for the boy. If anything, life was looking up. No broken bones and no villagers around to give them to him. Yeah, he had it made.
Except, it was getting kind of dark.
O.k. So he had a couple problems but nothing he couldn't handle. He was Uzamaki Naruto (self named at the age of four and five ninths) and it's not like he was some wussy who would go crying back to mommy if something got tough.
Except, he didn't have a mommy, and the matronly caretaker at the orphanage hated his guts.
Didn't matter though. He was tough and strong and pathetic enough looking that he could beg. And if he kept his head covered with his ragged scarf and pulled goggles down over his eyes they wouldn't recognize him. And if they did, what the hell, he was good at stealing stuff; and even better at running away.
But he really hated running away. When he was grown up he was going to be a ninja; the best ninja in the village. And he would stand up in front of everyone and fight and never have to run away again and every one of them would respect him and nod their head when he entered a room like they did with that old man who visits sometimes –
He stopped thinking altogether when he bumped into someone and fell on his ass. The stranger looked down, the soft light of a receding sun glancing off the surface of a Konoha Leaf hai-te.
"Oh shit."
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Swearing, as it turned out, was not necessary.
Neither was kicking the stranger in the shins, turning, and running as fast as he could in the opposite direction before he got beat up by a ninja for killing his friend or father or girlfriend or whatever. People seemed to be constantly confusing him with some sort of pint sized psycho named 'fox'. That was why he came up with a name that wasn't 'monster' or 'demon'; to cut down on the mistaken identity. Didn't work so well though. The first (and last) time he tried to explain that he was Uzumaki Naruto and not this 'kyuubi' character, they just punched harder.
The academy teacher, reacting on instinct, grabbed the kid by the scruff of his dirty collar; and then also by the seat of his pants when the urchin tried to wriggle out of his oversized shirt. After a few minutes the kid relaxed in his grip, hung his head, and sighed with the defeated air of a realist; he wasn't getting out of this one.
"Okay fine. Get it over with already. But when I grow up and become Hokage I am so going to kick your ass!!!" he finished, waving his fist in the air.
It was not the most auspicious start to what would become a wonderful and life changing relationship, but it would have to do.
Iruka had lost more than his fair share of friends and students to the Kyuubi no Kitsune. By some miracle of God (or otherwise) Anko had survived and only spent three months in recovery, though she did end up loosing three toes on her left foot. And like any halfway decent ninja, he did observe the telltale whisker marks, spiky yellow hair, and brilliant blue eyes under the mud and grime (though it took some doing). But, like any halfway decent person, he took a second to really look at the kid.
Old clothes, torn brown scarf wrapped around his neck; torn skin on his knees and elbows that had almost healed over. Faint tint of purple bruise over his brow, overshadowed by a pair of beat up goggles holding back his hair; this kid was probably used to getting pounded, but he still fought back. And what was that thing about being Hokage? Where was that coming from? If I were him I'd probably just take it, then as soon as I was old enough, run as far away from Konoha as I could get.
I like him, he's got character. . . . or something. He amended as he looked over the fidgeting six year old.
And it was as simple as that for one Umino Iruka, ordinary ninja extraordinaire. This kid had something others didn't; how everyone else had missed it was a mystery. Definitely not the demon re-incarnated; unless there were a bunch of bloody bodies somewhere he had missed. He casually glanced down the narrow alley next to them (just to make sure) before turning back to the demon vessel, who had started to glare at him suspiciously.
"What's your name kid?"
The kid stared back at him like he was asking a trick question, them grudgingly answered.
"Uzumaki Naruto."
"You got a place to stay?"
"You going to beat me up?"
"No."
". . .no, I don't."
"Then you can stay at my place until you get on your feet. Follow me; I live the next block over." At which point, he started walking again.
Naruto was hesitant to follow. Sure he was cold, wet, tired, and hungry but if this guy was a pedophile he would have to add a couple more lines to the list of 'things I wished I had never experienced'; right up there between having his existence (humanity) denied by just about everyone he met and drinking that chunky milk that one time. So he decided to test the guy and called out to the retreating back.
"Hey, you a pervert or somethin'?"
Iruka froze, and slowly turned, and shot an incredulous stare back at the blonde.
"NO!"
Good enough.
"I'll come with you. But only until I find a place to stay. And if you touch me weird I'll bite off your fingers."
"Deal."
For a moment Iruka was afraid he had made a mistake; that it was better to just let the authorities handle the urchin. But really, the system must have screwed up somewhere if he was out here in the first place and what was the problem with him spending a couple of nights? No problem at all really. Then he stopped thinking as, in a single instant, the kid's face was illuminated in the passing glare of a streetlamp and he saw Naruto trying to suppress a wide, hopeful grin that maybe he found a person who didn't hate him and believed him when he said his name was Uzumaki Naruto and maybe, possibly, might love him someday. Some little part of him that had frozen over when Shinto died and Anko decided to go nuts (more than she had been at least) thawed again. Time to start a new life Iruka; and you can start with a family. He glanced back at Naruto. A very loud, obnoxious, scrawny family to be exact.
"Oi Naruto! You ever had ramen?"
"No; what's that?"
"Only the best food in the world. Hurry up and I promise to make you as much as you want."
"Really?" 'As much as you want' was a new and interesting concept.
"Aa. I never take back what I say. It's my way of the ninja."
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Naruto had been living in Iruka's apartment for a few months when they were both summoned into the Hokage's office. The Sandaime informed them that he had found a place for Naruto to live and would "have those two nice ANBU standing right behind you help you move" if any assistance was needed. Iruka and Naruto turned quickly, surprised to find two silent, hulking mountains of 'special tactics' shinobi dwarfing them as they sat in the guest chairs in front of the desk. They both turned back just as quickly and politely declined the offer before making a hasty exit.
"Bet he did that to get me back for calling him 'old man' again."
"Probably. Not like we can do anything about it."
"Speak for yourself. I managed to snitch his porn mags when you and he were making small talk. Say hello to the best blackmail material in Konoha."
Iruka would usually take the opportunity to blush, look mortally offended, then hit the troublemaker over the head for a) stealing b) trying to blackmail the Hokage and c) thumbing through said magazines as they walked along.
However, he was still a bit pissed off at the man for failing to place Naruto in a safe environment, not to mention trying to intimidate him for snorting at the 'old man' jibe. Like those muscle bound morons would be able to lift a finger after getting caught in the traps that Iruka could set up. All he'd need is some nin-wire, a door knocker, three kunai, one of those little glass bottles of ink, and a pair of toenail clippers and they'd be going down. If the Hokage had thought his traps were fantastically, terrifyingly genius before (the primary reason he was placed with his former heavy combat cell), he was in for a surprise. Fourteen years of teaching ninja brats had honed his expertise in the field; at this point he had achieved a sort of untouchable level he wasn't sure he could really improve on. God help Konoha if he ever decided to start actually setting them up again. Iruka was normal enough, but as previously evidenced, he thought in a completely separate way. There was no warning, no chance at escape; there was only the before and the after.
Fortunately Iruka valued his hard earned reputation as 'normal person' too much to do anything. Naruto, however, needed an outlet. Eventually all those cold stares and colder words would get to him and he would snap like every other child forced too endure too much, too soon. Or God forbid, he'd turn out like that Kakashi character who was always late and lazy and was constantly reading porn. . . wait a minute!
He swiped the dirty book from Naruto and hit him over the back of the head with it.
"Ow! What was that for!?!"
"Don't read porn, it's bad for you. And don't steal. And BLACKMAIL THE HOKAGE!?! What were you thinking!?! Is that anyway for a ninja to act!!?!"
"But I'm not -"
"IF YOU WANT TO BE A NINJA YOU NEED TO SET AN EXAMPLE!!!"
"Hey Iruka." Anko waved as she passed by in fishnets, miniskirt, high-heels and not much else.
Iruka and Naruto were still and silent until she rounded the corner. Then Iruka turned and started walking quickly towards the exit and, presumably, home. When Naruto caught up he had his patented shit-eating grin on his face. He opened his mouth, at which point Iruka cut him off.
"Not a word."
The mouth closed but the smile remained.
……………………………………………………………………………………………...
Later that day Naruto and the six articles of clothing he owned, as well as some of the old shirts and pants he had been borrowing from Iruka, were neatly folded and placed in the beat-up dresser that sat against the wall. He had ended up in one of the west end industrial apartment complexes, about a block away from Shinto's old place. The Hokage sprung for a sturdy bed, sturdier locks, and an absolutely ironclad insurance policy (particularly generous in matters pertaining to destruction of property) in addition to a monthly allowance for food and clothes and soap and whatever else Naruto might need.
It was almost too good to be true. He had the old man who was going to watch out for him and Iruka, who was the first person to ever really care, and they had put up with him for a long time so they probably weren't going anywhere and if they tried he wouldn't get away without a fight –
. . .and there was a creepy masked guy sitting outside his window staring a him.
That was new. Wonder if he comes with the apartment.
He wasn't doing anything; just sort of hunched on a nearby telephone pole staring at him through the eyes of a weasel mask. What did old man call them? Oh yeah, ANBU. Eh, whatever. If ANBU-san wanted to perch on a power coupling like some overgrown vulture, more power to him.
He ducked into the kitchen.
On the table sat a case of instant ramen and a bunch of those vegetable things (from Iruka for a house-warming present) and he just couldn't wait for the water to boil. He was making enough for exactly three cups of the chicken noodles (he had developed a precise science of ramen preparation and consumption shortly after moving in with Iruka). Like clockwork the teapot whistled and he quickly poured out the perfect amount into each waiting cup. Ramen was not something you mess around with.
The mask shifted slightly to follow him as he sat down at the kitchen table (only two chairs because it was still cramped and why would he ever need more than two anyway?). It was during the pause where he was wiping his mouth off and getting ready to tackle cup #2 when he heard a faint rumbling noise through the half open window. He looked up to see the serious ANBU still staring.
Naruto wasn't an idiot but he wasn't intimidated either. ANBU were the 'big bad' of ninja; you just did not mess with them. But Naruto had seen things and had things done to him in his short life that a lot of other people, adults even, had never and will never be able to understand. The implied threat of ANBU was scary, but not quite as scary as being an undernourished five year old backing away from an angry drunk. If ANBU wanted to kill you, they would. It would be quick and it would be a conscious decision and not some meaningless act of confused anger.
It also helped that the stomach of this particular ANBU was growling. It made it hard to take him too seriously.
Making a quick decision, Naruto grabbed cups #2 and #3 and climbed out through his kitchen window onto a tile overhang roof for the apartment bellow his. He walked carefully over to a ledge, braced himself against a rusty drainpipe and held out the second cup.
"Do you like ramen, ANBU-san?"
The mask stared at him impassively before taking up the proffered cup and chopsticks and carefully fitting small bites of noodle through the mouth slit in the mask. The two ate in silence until the ninja handed back the cup and chopsticks and nodded once, in thanks.
Naruto's smile lit his face like the sun.
"Anytime, ANBU-san!"
And with that he ducked back into the tiny kitchen and started putting away the rest of the supplies.
Uchiha Itachi had never actually had ramen before since it was not a healthy food, merely cheap. Therefore it was an inappropriate food for him as a ninja, and as an Uchiha scion. He liked the taste though; it was more salty than the dishes that his clan traditionally served and it had some other spices that he couldn't identify mixed in. Better yet, it had almost no redeeming nutritional value. It was good. Maybe the Hokage was right in assigning this mission. He had been chasing perfection since he could walk; a nice relaxing guard job should be a good chance to take a break from the pressure.
Most of it anyway.
He thought back to his father's warning this morning. He still couldn't believe he would breach such a strict law to simply (as far as he could tell) rant about the 'demon child'. The kid looked fine to him. A little less self-preservation instinct than most five year olds and a sort of quiet intensity behind his eyes if you looked closely; like an abuse victim that had refused to move on to the cave-in-and-let-them-break-your-spirit stage. If that was really the nine-tails there would be a lot more dead bodies. Casually, he glanced over down the neighboring alley to check. It's not paranoia, it just that you can never be too careful.
"Hey ANBU-san! Did you know you hair looks like a girl's? It's long and silky; how're you supposed to play big bad ninja when you have to primp before a misson?"
Itachi cracked what might have been a smile. He might actually enjoy this job; or be as close to enjoying something as he ever manages. Wonder what I'd have to do to get another cup of ramen.
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"So. . . orange?"
"Apparently 'the only color they had in bulk'. Plus I had this great idea. I go around town in 'kill me orange' and make a spectacle of myself then everyone knows I'm that annoying blonde kid who everyone hates and all I wear is bright orange all the time then I become sort of synonymous with the color, right?
". . .right. . ."
"So then when people see this cute little kid with an adorable little scarf and bandana and sunglasses and clothes in muted black and blues no-way he's that Uzumaki kid 'cause there's no orange, right?
". . . right. . ."
"So of course, cute little kid X gets better deals on food and kunai and nin-wire and not orange clothes, right?"
Suspicious glance.
"Go back to the kunai and nin-wire."
"Hey, if I'm going to be a ninja I need to get serious, with serious equipment. The old man said he was sticking me in the academy next month so I need to start taking this seriously."
Iruka unleashed the 'hard teacher stare' combined with 'eyes demanding truth' and observed, "You just said serious three times in two sentences you know."
He fidgeted a bit before giving in.
"I know, I need to work on lying. I found the binder stuffed with all your old notes on ninja trap and prank techniques and it looked like something I really wanted to do. Better yet, something I'd be good at. What better way for me to get everyone to acknowledge my existence and get back at them at the same time. It's a totally harmless outlet; no blood or gore or anything. All I need to do is replace a couple fuuma shuriken with paint balloons; and these poisoning techniques would work just as well with your garden variety laxative. And no way can you let all this tracking, spying, and infiltration experience go to waste. I am so your guy for this."
"How long have you been preparing that speech?"
"Since last month. Guessed you would figure it out after I messed with the coffee in the administration building next week. By the way, what's your position on LSD?"
". . . for you?"
"For the coffee."
A short but decisive pause.
"No hallucinogens for active duty ninja. Mess with the percolator in the admin. staff break room. It's getting time to replace it anyway."
Naruto jumped up and tackled Iruka.
"THANKYOUThankYouThankYouThankYouThankYou. . ."
Looking down at the blonde who was still tightly attached to his midrift, he couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He knew he was probably setting himself up for years of Naruto related migraines, but pranking was a better outlet than killing or going insane or, god forbid, addiction to porn. And he had a feeling that Naruto would need it in the coming months, if the hints the Hokage was dropping were any indication. He wanted Naruto to learn the truth,the whole truth, about the kyuubi sooner rather than later; probably before he entered the academy. He was a smart boy and would figure it out if they didn't tell him; it would be a tragedy if he was forced to learn only bits and pieces on his own.
Besides, Naruto was a good person to pass all this on to. He was like him; he thought a different way than most other people. And he was strange in the way that he's a perfectly well adjusted kid (flying in the face of all known laws of psychology). If not for the fact that everyone thought he was a demon, he would probably be that same freaky sort of normal that Iruka had maintained in the midst of the drama of his old team.
Or perhaps not he amended as Naruto bounced to his feet, dragged up Iruka by his arms, and started pulling them around the neat little living room in some sort of swinging dance; spiraling from wall to wall in a unending circle of tightly controlled chaos. Normal isn't a word I would use.
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"I've lost count of the number of times this door has been replaced. Did you know that when he first moved into the apartment it was bright red? Had this beautiful little door knocker and knob set; cast-iron etched with an ivy design. You usually don't see those kinds of homey touches in this neighborhood. I always wondered what happened to them."
Kakashi elected to remain silent. The Hokage had pulled him aside for 'a walk' after the briefing on the new genin graduates. Eight beggars, two 'shady characters', and a pimp later and they stood facing apartment 35c. He still had no idea what this was about so, as his boss rummaged through his pockets for the keys, he did what he did best: stared straight ahead and zoned out.
"Ah, here it is."
The key turned roughly in the lock and a series of clicks and thuds on the other side signaled the release of a complicated series of deadbolts. The door opened and the men stepped into the living room. Four drab, stained walls framed one beat up couch and one table with an old porn magazine propping up the short leg. I always wondered where that went.
Kakashi was still confused but refused to ask the question. The Sandaime would get to it in his own time.
"This is the apartment of Uzamaki Naruto, recent graduate on the Konoha Ninja Academy."
Bingo.
"I brought you here because you are going to be his jounin instructor."
There was only one thought that passed through Kakashi's head and he voiced it.
"Hmm."
He was not the most complicated of thinkers.
The old man resumed.
"He has endured hardship and hatred at every turn. He has failed the genin test three times but never once faltered in his commitment to become a ninja of the Leaf. And despite the fact that he maintains a technically perfect taijutsu style and is more than proficient with standard ninja weapons, he has NEVER harmed a citizen of this village; even in his own defense."
Kakashi had trusted the strength and fortitude of the Yondiame, so believing the current Hokage when he said that the child was not the demon was no great stretch. Besides, if the kid was really the nine-tails, there would be a lot more bodies.
Were those red stains on the walls?
He glanced casually as he could towards the largest group of them on his left just to make sure they didn't have that 'death splatter' quality that ANBU were trained to recognize. He could barely make it out, but the painted words 'DIE MONSTER' were apparently too hard tocompletely scrub off.
"Until now only four people have acknowledged him as a human being, recognized his indomitable spirit and boundless love for his fellow man. You will be so lucky as to become the fifth."
Kakashi turned back to face the Hokage. He was doing that mysterious gazing-out-the-window-at-the-horizon thing again, but he could still see his eyes. Kakashi was a very good ninja, one of the best; so he could tell that they were just a bit sadder and more introspective than other occasions; that deep in the blue recesses there was a glimmer of something like regret over past mistakes. Kakashi knew regret over past mistakes better than most people.
Since it was now his turn to speak, he did.
"He will still need to pass the bell test."
"He will." The Hokage answered; and there was so much confidence in those two words that for a moment, Kakashi could have sworn that he said 'He already has.'
The old man turned and dropped the house keys into Kakashi's open palm on his way out. The copy-nin remained for a time, thinking about the past, present, and a future with team seven; the three twisting around and confusing one with each other as time and bitter memory were want to do. There is no blank-slate start in the real world; Naruto had been born to a bad reputation, and earned one as a prankster and troublemaker. He was a three time dropout 'dead last' but he was apparently good with taijutsu, could do insane things with nin-wire, and was the best ninja when it came to infiltration and evasion if the rumors were to be believed. How the loud, neon orange brat had managed that is anyone's guess.
More importantly, villagers kept breaking down his door and painting death threats and insults on his wall and he just kept scrubbing off the writing and replacing the doors, waiting for everyone who hated him to catch on to the fact that he wasn't going to become a monster, no matter how many times they called him one.
It will not be difficult to care for him he thought as he closed the door and locked it behind him. If he really wanted to be honest with himself, he already did.
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Of course it was just his luck that Naruto was assigned to team seven or, more accurately, assigned to Kakashi.
Hatake I-can't-be-bothered-to-care-about-anything-but-the porn-in-front-of-my-face Kakashi, bane of the mission desk, thorn in side of one Umino Iruka. It didn't help that the copy-nin had recently made it his personal goal to get a rise out of him, bugging 'that uptight chuunin in the mission office' when he was bored and had some spare time. So far Iruka had remained unflappable but it was obvious that he was close to some sort of break down. There was even a pool going, run by the admin. staff and some of the higher level jounin. He knew about it of course; he wasn't nearly as oblivious as he liked to act. I mean come on, did they honestly forget that I teach the pack of hellions?
Since about a year before Naruto entered the academy it had been official policy to give Iruka all the problem children – from stuck up prodigies to street rats with 'authority issues'. By some miracle he managed to turn out a steady crop of perfectly manageable genin, eager to learn from their beloved new jounin sensei and begin to walk the path of the ninja. The exception to every rule, of course, being Naruto. Originally he was fast tracked for early graduation and assignment, but that fell apart two months in. He picked up the basic taijutsu forms without a hitch, threw kunai like he was born to it, and his understanding of ninja tactics: scary. Should have never let him have that binder; who'd have imagined he'd create a way to take it to the next level? He wasn't smart in the classical sense. There was no way he would ever match wits with that lazy Nara in his class, but he was cunning and a very unconventional thinker. Still have nightmares about the ginger beer incident (shiver).
His chakra control, however, was non-existent. Both Iruka and the specialist called in to consult agreed that it was probably the mix of Naruto's natural chakra and the demonic type leaking from the seal but neither new how to help fix the problem. Jjinchuuriki chakra systems were new territory. The best he could do is support Naruto while he worked it out himself and watch, sadly, as he failed year after year. By the time he finally figured it out enough to pull off a decent henge ("for the last time, 'sexy no jutsu' is not an acceptable replacement! Do look like I have huge boobs!? DON'T ANSWER THAT!!!") his age group had caught up to him, which Iruka supposed was a good thing.
The nickname 'eternal dead last' was not.
Neither was being placed on a team with a jounin instructor famous for failing genin the first day and sending them right back to the academy.
Bet he would fail them just to finally get that rise out of you.
That settled it; the night before Naruto's big survival test with the newly minted team seven, Iruka gave him permission to go all out; no holds barred against his jounin sensei to pass his test. If the copy-nin is as good as he claims to be, he should be able to survive. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about sic-ing Naruto on him; that kid deserved to graduate to genin more than any other student he had ever taught. Naruto had earned the headband Iruka had given him and he'd be damned if he had to take it back.
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Anko knew him better than most people so she immediately recognized Iruka's cat-ate-the-canary grin when she passed him in the hall the next morning. It took her several seconds to remember that Kakashi had been getting on his case lately, and a few more to connect it to the fact that Kakashi was putting Iruka's cute little demonic apprentice through the bell test today.
The halls were filled with Anko's cackling laughter and the hair on the back of the neck of every shinobi was raised. Anko was laughing; an ominous portent if there ever was one.
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The jounin instructor for team seven was the last to report back to the mission office. The reason why was readily apparent.
He seemed to be suffering from several large contusions on his chest, which were clearly visible through his shredded shirt (and missing vest). His mask was left on (out of respect) as well as his pants (out of decency) and both sandals firmly on both feet (why bother). He had managed to half-escape from the ropes that had previously held him suspended upside down in the air. Still bound tightly but capable of a limited range of movement, enabling him to employ a strange little waddle-walk to make it back. He had absolutely no luck what-so-ever with cleaning/scraping off all the bright pink paint that was splattered across his right side. Durable stuff. He was, of course, still unaware that his hair had been died bright green but, paradoxically, was painfully aware that the two bells from the test had been tied to the ends of a few braided strands so that every time he made the smallest move, they jingled. His hands remained tied behind his back with an artful combination of nin-wire and his own hai-te, which had been removed from his person early on in the chaos. Therefore, he was unable to do anything about the 'kill me orange' sign that hung around his neck.
It read 'Mess with the Best, Die like the Rest'.
He calmly limped over to inform the group of non-traumatized jounin instructors that team seven had managed to pass, then made an about face and waddled (slowly) towards the door with as much dignity as he could muster. I am calm and collected and above this and By God I will make those brats run so many laps.
Before stepping out the door he shot the assembled his very best half-closed eye glare.
"Not a word."
The smiles were wide and the silence absolute. Shinobi are masters of laughing in the inside.
The next day Naruto gave him back his beloved Make Out Tactics: Limited Edition and assured him that it was a one time thing, he just had to pass the test and Iruka said he could go all out so he figured it would be okay, especially after Kakashi himself had advised them to come at him with killer intent.
By all accounts Naruto was a loud, brash, annoying little kid that ran headfirst into any challenge thrown at him, damn the consequences. But an official sanction for a 'no holds barred' was too good to pass up. With an hour's prep time and two semi-willing 'assistants', Kakashi was fighting for his dignity, pride, and reputation and a ninja - and losing.
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The jounin instructor began training by taking the first week to exact his revenge, then settled into tutoring his new cell; Naruto neglecting his traps for chakra control practice and sparing with his teammates. It's not like they could teach him anything new anyway.
Life pretty much just went back to status-quo after that. Kakashi occasionally asked Naruto for his opinion on the defensive barrier traps around their encampment on missions but they were fairly simple and not worth much thought. Otherwise, his performance at the genin test remained unforgotten (as with most traumatic experiences) but largely unmentioned (or even referenced). By the time the chuunin exams rolled around anyone who had gathered a few juicy details about the 'team seven bell test incident' had forgotten them and the members of team seven themselves were as tightlipped as ever.
Sakura, because it was a good story but it wasn't about Sasuke.
Sasuke, because talking was not something he enjoyed doing; getting a sentence out of him was like pulling teeth.
Naruto, because he respected his sensei and felt guilty about the enhanced hair dye (which had remained in the silver hair for half a year, forcing Kakashi to resort to genjutsu to avoid looking like a complete jackass).
Kakashi, because he was still trying to block it out.
Konoha's #1 prankster had officially gone into retirement once he made genin, using his extra time to hang out with Iruka and occasionally Anko, who had started to mellow since she had left the ANBU a couple years ago and was now only 'regular crazy'. When they weren't around, there was always someone from the team to hang out with; none of them really had lives. He was getting better at chakra control and after he had completed the tree climbing excersize, he was taught kage bushkin to use as his 'specialty attack' since it required a lot of chakra and he had plenty to burn.
Naruto entered the chuunin exams with 'mass shadow clone' (derived from the kage bushkin) and 'sexy no jutsu' under his belt. Turns out it's not just for transgender tendencies anymore; it was actually dead useful as a total transformation technique for infiltration and undercover work when you adapted the form. It had yet to be countered - or even detectable - when used properly. Henge, HAH! I laugh in the face of henge. There were also all the little 'variations on the theme' of course, as well as his old tricks with kunai, nin-wire, shuuriken, and any other odds and ends he happened to pick up. In my hands, a toothbrush is lethal. But he had cottoned on to the fact that if he really wanted people to take him seriously as a ninja, to make them acknowledge Uzamaki Naruto: Future Hokage as a worthy opponent, he would need a flashy ninjustu to back him up.
The rasengan turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.
Naruto managed to pull off the classic one-handed version just in time to save Tsunade in the fight against the creepy snake guy and glasses boy, but Sasuke was still pissed that he let Itachi get away again and when Naruto came back with one of the powerful ninjutsu the Fourth was famous for, his anger boiled over.
Naruto had seen the curse mark before, on the back of his family and former sensei. So he went and had a long talk with Iruka and later, a shorter one with Anko. Around the time Kakashi was tying his student to a tree to talk some sense at him (in the vain hope that something got through that thick skull) Naruto was forming a resolution of his own.
The promise of a lifetime was easy to give to Sakura because he had already sworn to himself that Sasuke would not die, as Shinto had all those years ago.
A few days later, as the sun rose over the mountains bordering the village, Naruto and Sasuke returned from the Valley of the End, heads hung low and bodies sore. Team seven was hurting but not broken and the love Sasuke had for his teammates, the fact that ultimately he chose them over his vengeance, made them that much stronger. 'Teme' and 'Dobe' were now terms of affection and a grateful Sakura never again ignored the blonde idiot (yelled at him, pounded him into the ground, yes, but never ignored). For Naruto, the absence of the Third was gradually replaced by the new closeness with his two teammates (not to mention the rookies of the rescue five) and a relationship with both the super-strong and the super-perverted sannin.
Kakashi himself had recently acquired a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest that might be happiness and a sort of clarity that might be peace of mind. He still had to deal with the blue-eyed ball of chaos on a regular basis so he wasn't so sure that 'peace' was a word he should use, but whatever.
The next generation learns from the mistakes of the last.
Kakashi cared deeply for his charges and had finally gotten them to open up enough so that he could come to know them well. Two orphans and a girl that doesn't tell her parents anything; I figure that I'm the one who knows them best, really. He began focusing on the present, on the now, on his glowing pride for the closest knit and most capable team in Konoha (in his humble opinion).
He stopped thinking about the past, and how people's origins shaped their lives.
In hindsight, this would prove to be a mistake.
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The 'ginger beer incident' is a nod to Terry Pratchett. If you ever get the chance, read "Night Watch". I was laughing from start to finish.