CHAPTER TWO

"I always try to believe the best of everybody - it saves so much trouble." – Rudyard Kipling

Iruka Umino could truthfully say that he did not take as much interest in teaching as he used to. On the days that he felt particularly put-off, it took very little to spark his impatience. Had he properly learnt the Fire jutsus, he would have long since burned down that stuffy classroom that contained twenty-six squealing devils.

He sighed as he gathered his books and placed them in a stack at the corner of the desk. Outside, the children played on the Academy grounds, oblivious to their teacher's fading frustration. He sat in his chair and watched them for a while, unaware of the faint smile that had spread on his face. Sometimes, when they weren't staring blankly at him or squabbling with each other, they could be quite adorable to watch.

They were children, kids. Perhaps he shouldn't be expecting so much from them, demanding more from their abilities and getting worked up when they could not perform to the standards. Iruka didn't think he was overrunning them, though that was most likely due to another cause.

He was more accustomed to having to yell at kids for not sticking to the Academy syllabus.

As a teacher, Iruka was not supposed to take sides and pick out favourites. Yet he clearly yearned for the days when an orange ball of energy occupied the front row seat now taken up by the more studious – in other words; boring – students. There had been talent in Naruto's graduating class – talent and the skill to reduce their teacher's voice to a mere croak while the grin remained firmly pasted on the Chunin's face. Even with last year's class had been more entertaining, with Konohamaru rising to fill in Naruto's absence.

A knock by the door disrupted Iruka's musing. It was one of his colleagues, a tall bespectacled man by the name of Sato Fukuya. He was among the luckier of the Academy teachers, with a relatively stable class that no complaints could be lodged against.

"Hey, Iruka, want to join us for morning tea?"

Iruka turned away from the window and smiled at the man, standing. "I'll pass; I feel like a nice hot bowl of ramen. Next time."

Sato laughed. "This coming from the man who watches his wallet like an Inuzuka puppy his bone. Right then – I'll be seeing you. And for your reputation's sake, make it back in time for afternoon class this time."

"Will do." Iruka had on one occasion – and one occasion only – lost track of time during break time and the result had been catastrophic. It had taken him quite a lot of hours to return his classroom to its normal state, and even then he could still see the remnants of what must have been a child's best afternoon when he peered carefully around him. He had Naruto to thank for that incident.

The morning break ran for forty-five minutes, and it took Iruka six of those to walk down to the ramen stand. He was glad to be free from the room that was hell to him. The fresh air did him good, and he found himself whistling as he walked down the street, hands in his pockets. The sun shone brightly above him, cheerfully shedding its rays on the Land of Fire. Iruka felt his Academy teacher side of him gradually slide away, freeing him from the dreaded ungraded written assessments tasks that waited for him, the first thing he would see when he opened the drawer of his desk.

"Hello there, Teuchi," he said, greeting the man who ran the ramen stand. He sat down two seats away from the stand's other customer. The elderly man beamed at him.

"Oh, hey there, Iruka. Long time no see – been busy?"

Before the Chunin could reply, there was an eruption of "Iruka-sensei!" and he turned to look at the owner of that boisterously loud voice. A wide smile spread on his face.

"Naruto. I should have known I would be seeing you here."

The blonde grinned and shuffled along to sit next to his old teacher, taking with him his half-finished bowl of ramen. "Man – it feels like ages since I've seen you. My treat!" he leaned up and over to slap Teuchi on the shoulder. "One nice dose of miso ramen for this gentleman here thanks, old man!"

Teuchi laughed and nodded. "Coming right up!"

Iruka Umino wasn't one to take a biased opinion. He believed that there was good in each person on this planet, no matter how tiny that amount may be. To him, all students were equal, all children of the Leaf.

But there was no denying that he was proud to have produced Konoha's 'Number One Loudest, Unpredictable, Hyperactive Knuckleheaded Ninja'.

Seeing that familiar grinning face, the unruly blonde hair and eyes sparked with determination – it bought back more memories than Iruka could count. He had chased that child down the corridors of the Academy countless times, even signing up to be amongst those who would pursue the boy the next time the Hokage Stone was defaced with uncouthly comical remarks. Iruka had lost his parents to the Nine-Tailed Fox, but ironically, he felt closer to Naruto than he had ever anyone else.

The ramen arrived, and the Chunin thanked Teuchi, snapping open his chopsticks. Naruto grinned at him and reached over to pour his old teacher a cup of sake. Iruka smiled at him. "And here I was thinking the maturity side of you was extinct," he said, fondly ruffling the blonde's hair.

Naruto's grin widened - he was grateful for the affectionate gesture; times were busy and he had not been seeing his friends as much as he would have preferred. Everyone was occupied with their training and preparing for the Jonin exams; those not taking the exam were helping those that were with their training. They had occasional group training sessions, and Naruto sometimes attended those. Although they would be pitted against each other in the exams and it was not exactly wise to reveal your skills to your future opponents, the old classmates took no competitive aspect in the exam – it was just a step one took to advance with life, nothing more and definitely nothing worth damaging friendships over.

Iruka seemed to have been thinking along the same lines as Naruto. Halfway into his ramen, he gulped down the cup of sake and turned to regard the boy with a slightly bemused smile. "I believe the Jonin exams are coming up soon…I hope you aren't spending your time here when you should be training."

"Bite your tongue, young man!" Teuchi remarked good-naturedly, overhearing the comment.

"Ah…I think time has not been kind on me," Iruka said, smiling. "I'm not quite 'young' anymore."

Naruto inhaled his ramen and called for a small platter of dango. "Don't let Guy-sensei hear you saying that," he joked. Then, in a deeper voice, he added, "Look into my eyes and see the fires of youth burn – also notice my handsomely manly features!" Then he flashed a convincing 'Guy grin' and flicked out a thumbs-up. He grinned. "How was that?" he asked in his normal voice. "I practiced that for a week or two."

"Good…very good," Iruka nodded. He was still puzzled over the fact that Naruto had called Guy 'sensei' and at such a casual mentioning. Then it occurred to him. "Have you been training with Guy lately?"

"Yeah – I have. I asked him to help me with my taijutsu; took a hell of a convincing, he did – and it wasn't until I begged Kakashi-sensei to challenge him that Bushy Brows Senior actually accepted. Hang on…" Naruto shoved a stick of dango into his mouth and bent over his knees to roll up the legs of his trousers. Iruka peered down to see a band wrapped tightly around the boy's ankle, several metal plates imbedded into it. "See? I'm wearing his weights – been wearing them for a month or so and they keep getting heavier. But I'm sort of used to them now."

The older man was genuinely impressed; during any previous events that Naruto had stopped by the Academy and then run off again, Iruka had noticed that the boy had, if any, gotten much more agile than he had once been. Given that he had actually been wearing weights, Iruka was curious to see the effects of Guy's training – it thrilled the Chunin to think that Naruto may even become as strong as Rock Lee, who was commended for his taijutsu and speed. Of course, Sasuke had also achieved such speed in a month…

Iruka turned away from Naruto, as if fearing that the boy would overhear his thoughts on his raven-haired teammate. Sasuke was a very sore topic for Naruto and his friends. Even around Kakashi, whom Iruka still associated with on a regular basis, they were careful to censor their mentioning of the Uchiha. Iruka felt his mood settling on a lower plane. Sasuke may have left, but he seemed to have taken a part of his friends with him. If only the revenge-driven boy could realise that so many people cared about him, that life was too short to spend blinded by hatred…if only.

If only he understood all of the above, Sakura Haruno would not be lying comatose in the hospital.

It saddened Iruka to think that a boy that he himself had nurtured into the world of shinobi had taken such a drastic turn in loyalty and conscience. Before the incident, the Chunin had truly believed that Sasuke was simply misguided and would eventually return to his village, knowing that home was with his friends. But he hadn't, and he had hurt those who cared about him. And, if anything, Sakura was the one who cared most deeply about him.

A hand waved in front of Iruka's distant gaze. "Yo – Iruka-sensei? Getting a bit drowsy there?"

The older man snapped to attention and shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "Possibly," he laughed. "I am getting old, after all." He realised that, if he peered down hard enough, he could see Naruto's hidden pain. It had always been there, of course, driven by isolation – it was just much more evident now. Kakashi's Team Seven could not be described as the most cooperative of the graduate classes, but it was now broken in such a way that it was near impossible to piece the shattered fragments back together. Naruto was so desperately clinging to the small shards, hoping that they would make a difference.

By now, the dango had disappeared and Naruto was bending the sticks into shapes. "Not as old as Granny Tsunade."

"Is there the slightest hint of respect in that comment?" Iruka challenged. He had, by now, grown accustomed to Naruto's strange choice of expressing respect. He had named the three people he held infinite reverence to 'Old Man', 'Pervy Sage' and 'Granny'. The Chunin wondered if it was respect on a higher or lower plane that had excused him from an equally humiliating form of address.

Naruto shrugged and added another folded stick to his picture, forming the Leaf symbol. "Maybe," he said in a mischievous tone, and for a moment, Iruka could see the twelve year old who would confess to have added expired milk to the Chunin's morning tea and would snigger while his teacher rushed to the male bathroom that had coincidentally decided to switch signs with the female counterpart of the rooms.

"I have to go back to the Academy soon," Iruka said, as he finished his bowl of ramen. "Really, Naruto, how is your training going? Do you have confidence with the Jonin exams?" A part of him was proud that his preferred student was climbing the steps to his dream; another part was undeniably envious that he was being bested in rank by the very boy who had been last in his graduating class. Iruka squashed down such negative emotions.

"Loads," Naruto replied with poise. "I'm acing that puny test. I'm not going to fall down in front of Neji. Believe it!"

Iruka laughed and patted his student's shoulder as he got up from his seat. "Sure I do. You'll pass the exam, Naruto, I'm sure. Now, I have to get back before the kids wreck havoc. Come drop by before the exams and we'll go meet up with Konohamaru before his team goes on a mission."

Naruto's lips curved into a fond smile. "That kid…he's grown up."

"So have you."

"Well, don't tell you expected anything less." Then, as Iruka waved a hand in farewell and started to walk away, he remembered. "Wait! Iruka-sensei!" He hurriedly paid for their meal and jogged up to the older man.

"What – don't you have enough to pay for the two of us?" Iruka highly doubted that, seeing as he seemed to have imparted some of his economical habits to Naruto.

"Nah – I just wanted to ask you if you still have some photos of my graduating class."

If there was one thing Tsunade despised more than losing at the local gambling stop and running out of sake at the same time, it would be paperwork. She loathed the miniscule fonts that would cage her in her office for the majority of the day. As Hokage, every mission, every trade and exchange with other countries had to be approved by her. Most of the time, she barely read them, simply signing her consent and shoving the piece to join those that had preceded it. The Council didn't care how she did it, what she did with it – as long as she got the job done, there were no complaints.

They were fools if they believed that Tsunade - granddaughter of the First Hokage, accomplished medic-nin and the Leaf Village's current Hokage – would actually abide by rules of any sort.

There were many reasons for her frequent abandoning of her duties. Firstly, Tsunade was, put simply, not bothered. Another point others might argue was that she was much too addicted to her status as the Legendary Sucker to abandon it for good. But lastly – and it commonly offended her to realise that anyone rarely considered this an excuse – was that her student, her apprentice, was currently part of the Sleeping Dead and had been for months now.

Fools, she thought to herself, wearily pushing the paperwork away from her and resting her elbows on the desk so that she could run her fingers through her loose strands of blonde hair. They didn't see her pain. They didn't understand the significance of a girl to one who had been given the immortal title of Hokage. They didn't understand, didn't realise that the great Hokage was a person too, and that she had her feelings, her emotions.

They all saw Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage who would lead the village in tranquillity for years to come.

They didn't bother trying to see Tsunade, the medic-nin who had failed to heal her own student and had deemed the girl to a possible lifetime of living death.

It wasn't guilt that consumed her in moments like these. It was pure sorrow, of the essence that only a mother could exude for a child. Truth be told, Tsunade had, at some point, considered Sakura her daughter. Since the death of the kunoichi's parents the previous year, it had been Tsunade that Sakura trusted and confided in. The same could be said for Shizune. They were her students, her daughters. And one of them was broken.

The other was knocking rapidly on the door.

Tsunade jadedly lifted her head to regard the double doors that barred her from her freedom. She sighed. How did she know it was Shizune? Simple; the young woman didn't seem to understand the word 'patience', and the Hokage knew that if she did not allow her apprentice access to the room within the next few seconds, she would most likely be signing a consent for a new door in the Tower.

"Come in," she said, settling back into her armchair to regain her poise. She noticed with a raised eyebrow that, even before the command had left her lips, the door had already been creaking open. That girl…should I bother lecturing her this time?

When she saw her apprentice's flustered expression, she decided negatively.

"Yes, what-"

"Lady Tsunade!" Shizune gasped out.

Tsunade knew it was bad if she was not even allowed to finish her sentence. She kept a steady grip on the paranoia-prone side of her being and wished desperately that whatever the hearsay was, it wouldn't be enough to send her to the edge of sanity itself. She found herself catching her breath as she waited for Shizune's dreaded announcement.

And she waited. And waited.

Finally, she burst. "Out with it, Shizune!" she snapped, impatience jittering her nerves.

The medic-nin hesitated. "It's Sakura…"

Tsunade felt her stomach flip.

"There's…been a change in her condition…"

For whatever reason it may be, Tsunade found herself torn between joy and dread.