The Marauders _ a Naruto fanfiction by 30CK ~ troutpeoples
Chapter Two
"Okay, so I think I'm starting to get what the heck this scroll is and what the heck you guys are. But what the hell is up with the huge black part?"
Sparky would like to point out the storage seals that decorate the handle of the scroll.
"Eh? What seals?" Naruto followed the long tail of paper that trailed out of the Shinobi's Scroll until he got to the end. He picked up the wooden piece that decorated the last part of paper. "This thing…?" he muttered doubtfully. He squinted as he held it up in front of his eyes. "It just looks like a dark stick of wood!" He growled in annoyance. "It'd be so much easier if it was the afternoon, when I can have some light!" Damn landlord cut off the lights to the apartment complex during nighttime to save money. Or maybe just to him. Either way, the guy was a crotchety old bastard.
Naruto went back to the where 'the Pranksters' – as he'd come to start calling them; it was a lot better than 'the Three Stooges, plus a Bastard', after all – talked with him. They had already written their thoughts.
Hawkeye finds himself appalled at the apparent lack of teaching in the Academy these days. Simple katon and raiton jutsu were essentials when he was in school, taught for basic lighting techniques in the dark.
Spitfire would like to punch Sparky in the face for deflecting the kid's question, but she can't.
Hawkeye would like to offer his condolences to Spitfire…san.
Irons thinks that the owner should try pushing a load of chakra into the stick and see what happens.
"You think so?" Naruto asked out loud, eyeing the small length of wood. Their last replies were quickly swept away by a quick scrawl.
Sparky would rather the new owner didn't listen to Irons-san when asking for advice. Irons-san is not exactly the most knowledgeable about seals.
Irons takes offense to that comment, and claims that he's not that bad.
Spitfire would like to remind Irons of the twenty-two incidents that occurred within the first three days of his studying sealing.
Hawkeye would like to remind Spitfire-san that it was actually twenty-eight, but some of those incidents could not be traced back to Irons at that point in time.
Irons takes offense to that comment as well, sends a scathing insult at Hawkeye-teme, and goes off to sulk.
"So what do I do, then? And what's up with the seals on the wood, anyhow? Why do I need to know this stuff, and why should I care?"
Spitfire is going to step out of the line of fire for this one.
Hawkeye agrees with Spitfire's wise judgment and slowly backs away from Sparky no Baka.
Sparky takes the new owner's comment as a direct insult to himself, having been someone who had instructed whiny little ninja before. Sparky would also like to point out that the storage seals are on the handle so the end of the scroll that has the black ink covering the paper can seal that useless paper and keep him from making a mess, such as he has made, every time he wishes to utilize this scroll. Sparky thinks that the new owner would very much like not having to dig through tens of meters of stained paper in order to find the few words we say. Sparky would hope that the new owner would see the uses of seals on anything, and should care because of how amazing the art of fuuinjutsu really is. As for the black expanse – those are logs of our conversations with our previous owners, stained accordingly so that the new owner cannot read over private conversations.
Naruto raised an eyebrow.
Spitfire thinks Sparky should settle down a little before he scares the kid.
"Hey!"
Spitfire would like to apologize for thinking that the kid is a scared little girl.
"Hey!"
Spitfire realizes that the kid does not like hearing the truth, and would like to remind him that the truth hurts and he needs to stop whining.
Something beeped in the background, drawing Naruto out of his conversation. He blinked rapidly and looked around. The beeping grew louder. "What the heck is that?" What did he have that made that noise? And why was it making it right now?
He slowly trekked away from his kitchen table, being careful not to step on too much of the paper littering the floor, and went into his room where the ringing seemed to be coming from.
Oh. His alarm clock.
…his alarm clock? Why the hell was his alarm clock going off?
He went over to turn it off and got sight of the time: 6:45 am.
He blinked. 6:45? But…it was still night…wasn't it?
Naruto ran out his room and over to the sliding door that led to his little balcony. He yanked open the grimy fabric curtain that separated the glass door from the rest of his place and yelled out when the light of a rising sun slammed into his suddenly very-tired eyes. "Dammit!" he swore.
He was going to be late! The Academy graduates were supposed to meet up at their classroom at 7:00! Dammit, he was going to be late on his first day as being a ninja, as being an official shinobi of Konoha!
"Shit!" he cursed again, whirling around and dashing back into his room. Thumps and crashes emanated from behind the closed door for a few minutes before Naruto burst out in his trademark-orange jacket and pants. His hitai-ate, worn like a necklace, tapped against his collarbone as he ran over to the table, saying "okay, how do I seal the paper?" as he went. Because he'd be damned if he wasn't going to take this new Awesome with him wherever he went.
When he reached the scroll, a reply was waiting for him.
Hawkeye knows that Sparky no Baka will be stewing for a while, so he will answer for the reader: since the scroll has been attuned to the reader's chakra, it will be easier to seal than most other things. All the reader has to do is put one hand on each end of the grip and slowly – SLOWLY – channel his chakra into it. Let it flow into the wood, don't force it. If he does it correctly, the owner should feel a light pulling on the chakra in his hands as the storage seals react and take a little extra to finish the action. When he is finished sealing the amount of paper he wishes to seal, he simply needs to stop channeling chakra, or take both hands off of the handle.
"Okay!" Naruto grabbed the handle, willing himself to calm down, and let his chakra flow. The ocean of chakra in his torso settled down to an waterfall as it passed to his arms, falling to a river as it swirled over his elbows, where it split into smaller streams, trickling down each of his fingers and pooling delicately into the wood.
He watched as small characters began lighting up upon the surface, glowing a faint blue. Were those the seals? They grew brighter as more chakra was fed into them, until they flashed once.
Naruto felt his eyebrows rise as he watched the black paper get fed into the wooden grip, meter by meter vanishing as the seals did their thing. "Woah."
He tore his fingers away from the handle right before the newly-appeared sentence was sucked in.
Sparky would like to congratulate the new owner on his first success at sealing, and grudgingly approves of Hawkeye-san's brief explanation.
Naruto grinned.
Irons thinks that now would be an opportune time to remind the owner that he was hurrying to do something.
"Shit!" Naruto swore again, his grin changing to a grimace. "I got to be at the Academy in ten minutes!" Growling to himself in increasing frustration, he snapped the Shinobi's Scroll shut, put it under his arm and ran over to his door. He jammed his sandals onto his feet and, with one last hurried glance around his apartment to make sure he didn't forget anything, slammed the door behind him as he left.
Nara Shikamaru was sitting in the back row of classroom 7C. He was unusually awake for this time of day – of course, him being awake at all was unusual for any time of day – as he watched his former classmates filter into the room. His best friend Akimichi Chouji, on his left, kept shooting him confused glances; Shika being conscious while inside the school building was not an event that happened every day. It was not unnatural for him to have a sum-total of twenty-two days spent asleep in a standard month.
Shikamaru shrugged and ignored the looks. Instead, he let his eyes fall to the person sitting on his right: one Aburame Shino. This struck him as odd. It was one thing for the quiet boy to sit with anyone in the class. It was another thing completely for the quiet boy to sit with him. And to stay silent, waiting patiently for someone to speak, before he himself said anything; Shino was waiting for Shikamaru to say something first in order for him to be able to gain control of the conversation. It wouldn't do to give the fellow shinobi the upper hand.
So Shikamaru stayed silent.
It wasn't until five minutes later that Shino voiced his thoughts, and made it abundantly clear why he chose to sit next to the Nara today.
"It came to my attention this morning that Uzumaki Naruto managed to graduate, despite his poor performance during yesterday's exam."
Shikamaru groaned, and put his head into his arms. He did not need to deal with this. Screw controlling the conversation; he didn't care. He just didn't want to gossip about this like a few pre-pubescent girls.
He lifted his head a little and glared at Haruno Sakura and Yamanaka Ino; they were already sniping at each other like a pair of dogs.
"Really?" Chouji asked, surprised. Shino twitched his head almost imperceptibly forward – the barest movement necessary acting as a nod. "Cool." He paused for a moment, before furrowing his brow in thought. "Wait, how did he manage to pull that off?" The heavy-set boy – man, now, according to Konohagakure law – automatically turned to Shikamaru, questions in his eyes once again.
Shikamaru sighed. He glared at the silent Aburame, just for good measure, before turning back to Chouji and saying tiredly, "Pops said something about Naruto stopping some guy from stealing some super-secret scroll or something." His lips pulled further down. "He said more than that, but trying to listen to the whole story was far too troublesome."
Shino made a contemplative noise from behind his color. "Is that so," he observed.
The unsung genius of the three frowned at the tone used; there was a knowing lilt to the answer given. As if Shino knew exactly what the whole story was.
Of course, that could very well be the case. Shikamaru knew enough about Shino to realize that the boy was unnaturally observant; he spent his days watching his classmates, memorizing their habits, their attitudes, absorbing their personalities, and keeping careful watch over the more promising ones, the more dangerous and unexpected ones. It was so obvious that it was a wonder no one else noticed; he had, after all, seen the myriad of insects that flew incessantly around the classroom, landing in corners, on desks, and just sitting for hours at a time before flying back to the Aburame's hand, hidden underneath his desk.
It would stand to reason that Shino was just as analytical, as observant and brilliant outside the classroom as he was inside. And if that was indeed the case, the boy was bound to hear a few things more – and retain them, at that – than Shikamaru did.
"Yeah," was all the Nara said in reply.
Chouji just looked between the two in confusion.
Shikamaru let his gaze drift over to the clock on the wall. It was 6:51. The graduates were all supposed to be here by 7:00.
"Naruto's gonna be late," he said.
"Of course," Shino replied. "It is a logical probability to assume that Uzumaki stayed up late last night due to his exuberance at succeeding to become a shinobi, and then succumbed to exhaustion, resulting in his oversleeping and waking up late."
"Sure, that's what I meant."
Shino turned his head towards the lazy brunette. "A detailed and concise way of speaking should not be thought of as a hindrance. Such things are essential for forming an acceptable mission report, something which will become vital now that we are shinobi."
"True," replied Shikamaru, "but do you really think you'll have time to talk all troublesome like that in the middle of a battle, or while you are ordered to report to your commander in a squad? No. They'll want short and simple, something to give the information needed in a quick manner and that's it."
"And in those instances, I will shorten my explanations to an appropriate length."
"You could have just said, 'I'd do that in those situations'," Chouji pointed out, attempting to join the conversation a little. "You don't always have to use the longest words possible to get a point across."
Shino was quiet for a moment. He took a breath, which ruffled his collar a little, and said, "I was instructed since my earlier memories that speaking in such a manner set me apart from the uncouth and uncivilized members of my generation."
Inuzuka Kiba, ever the prim and proper epitome of civility, chose that moment to bellow "No, fuck you!" at another graduate, leaping out of the seat and barreling into the other boy, tackling him to the ground with another curse and a bark of laughter.
Shikamaru and Chouji looked at each other.
"You have a point there," they said together, looking back at the Aburame. Shino simply nodded.
"So…" Chouji said after another few minutes of silence. "How late do you think he'll be this time? I mean, he's usually – what – ten, fifteen minutes late? Barring the occasion when he just plain ditches until Iruka-sensei catches him." He nodded to himself.
"His average delay for his entire schooling at the Academy is approximately one hour and twenty-one minutes," Shino replied neutrally. "If any delay of over an hour is not included in the equation, his average time of delay lowers drastically to approximately eleven minutes."
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. "You take note of how much time it takes him to get to class?"
"Not just Uzumaki. I take note of everyone's behavioral patterns – their routine, their habits, their responses to differentiating stimuli. A competent shinobi should attempt to obtain as much information on both allies and adversaries as possible." Shino visibly raised a brow and looked at Shikamaru. "To use an example, you, Nara, use only seven percent of your time in class to actually sleep. I would approximate the amount you use for daydreaming at closer to twenty-five percent. Another sixty percent you use to act like you are unconscious, but are actually listening intently to the lecture being given."
"And the remaining eight percent?" Chouji prodded. Shikamaru just groaned, placing his hands over his head where it rested on the desk.
"The excess eight percent varies by a small amount each day. Usually, though, it is used talking with you."
Chouji grinned at his friend. Shikamaru didn't bother looking up, instead choosing to turn the subject of discussion back a minute. "I think he'll be more than five minutes late this time, less than eight." Chouji laughed.
"Putting money on that?" he teased, nudging his friend in the side.
"Sure, why not," Shikamaru gave in, his voice muffled. One of his hands withdrew from its perch and dipped into a pocket. He withdrew a small handful of bills and coins and set it down next to his head. "There. Whatever that is."
Chouji counted it up and nodded to himself. That could buy him six large bags of barbeque-flavored potato chips, with a little left over. That was acceptable. He quickly shoved a hand into his own pocket and drew out his own money, counting it out and setting aside the bet.
Shino had somehow managed to put his money on the table without moving a muscle.
"I've got…eight to eleven minutes this time," Chouji said, nodding to himself.
Shino was silent for a while before saying, "Between three minutes, twenty-eight seconds and three minutes, forty-two seconds." He could practically feel the raised eyebrows that his answer gained him.
They fell silent, conversation finished, just as Umino Iruka entered the classroom at 7:00 (and sixteen seconds, Shino noted) and walked to the center of the classroom.
Umino Iruka – known best as "Sensei" or "Fish" by his students and colleagues, respectively (the latter he can't stand, because no matter how many times he tells them that a dolphin is not a fish, they keep at it as if they were right – grown men should be more intelligent!) – smiled nostalgically as he took in the faces of his former students, each one now framed with the gleaming silver of a brand-new hitai-ate.
He couldn't be more proud of them.
It felt like just a little while ago that he was earning his own hitai-ate, grinning happily up at his sensei before running home to show his parents and his sister, instead of meeting them at the Academy doors like tradition stated.
He reached up and touched his hitai-ate; his new hitai-ate. He wondered if anyone would notice the gleaming, flawless surface that had replaced the scratched, dented, dirty-grey metal of old, or if they would realize that the cloth keeping it in place was now dark green instead of the navy blue that he originally had.
His eyes flickered over to the Nara and Aburame of the class. They'd notice, for sure, being two of the brightest in the class – even if they deliberately tried not to. Hyuuga Hinata, Yoro Yumi, and Sakiten Takato were fairly keen on the details; they got hold of the little things, like a papercut on his finger, or a new stapler on his desk. Yamanaka Ino would most likely notice, if for no other reason than that it was now more aesthetically pleasing; she generally paid a lot of attention to how people looked. Time would tell if that was because she was a teenage female, or if she was actually gaining useful information from doing so.
He let his hand drop and frowned mentally as his eyes flitted over the class. He shook his head and sighed.
Naruto was late.
Iruka had hoped that the responsibility of being a ninja would have been beaten into the boy's head last night, after the fight, the lecture from the Sandaime, and the lecture from himself when he bought him a few bowls of ramen for a late dinner. Apparently not. Although…it was possible that Naruto just stayed up late, fell asleep sometime this morning, and woke up late. Naruto was ecstatic when he bade him goodnight; Iruka wouldn't put it past him to have been unable to sleep from the excitement.
Shrugging to himself – nothing he could do until the boy got here, after all – Iruka turned his attention back to his former students. "Congratulations," was all he said. There wasn't anything that needed saying, no ideas to build on, no words of wisdom that he felt was needed. He wasn't here to weigh them down with the possibility of death, murder, and blood in their future. That wasn't his job anymore. The only thing he was useful for to the men and women looking back at him was to give them a smile, letting them know that he'll always be here if they should ever need him, and let them go.
The room brightened as the faces in front of him lifted with smiles – some small and hesitant, some big and bold, some hidden behind grimaces, and some flashing behind their eyes – and Iruka couldn't help but grin right back.
He was going to miss this class.
Still smiling, the teacher walked over to his desk and picked up a stack of papers. He held them up and all attention focused upon them. "These are the team assignments. Every one of you has been put in groups of three, with one jounin-sensei taking charge of each team. Some of you have been specifically asked for by these jounin, so act responsibly around them; I don't want to hear any reports of any of you badmouthing your leader, is that clear?" He punctuated his statement with a glare.
The general consensus was a resounding 'yes', although there were some 'fat chance'-s and hard-to-understand grunts.
Oh well. Take what you can get; win some, lose some.
"Good. Now-"
"Where's Mizuki-sensei?" Muriki Ryoko asked suddenly, belatedly thrusting her hand into the air, her black eyes shimmering.
Iruka froze.
Shit. What should he – what could he tell them? That their assistant teacher was actually a psychopathic megalomaniac? That his best friend had tried to kill him?
"Mizuki…" he said slowly, trying to sound calm, "didn't have to come today…since we aren't holding an official class, the assistant teacher has no need to be here."
"Oh, okay," Ryoko said, sounding disappointed. Iruka almost laughed before he was struck by sadness; she had had a crush on his silver-haired assistant, and if she found out that he was actually completely out of his mind…
He shook his head, trying to get back to more positive thoughts. He fingered the papers in his hand and held them up, taking a deep breath and continuing from his previous tangent. "This year we have…four-"
The door slammed open and a shout of "Iruka-sensei!" interrupted him before he could get out the next word. All eyes swiveled to a panting, slightly-sweaty, very ruffled, and rather tired-looking Uzumaki Naruto, who was standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, a small scroll tucked under his arm, and a hitai-ate proudly sitting against his black undershirt.
Iruka couldn't help but grin as he said, "You're late, Naruto. Luckily for you, though, you didn't miss the team announcements. Please take a seat."
"Yes, Iruka-sensei," Naruto said hurriedly, shutting the door behind him and leaping into a seat near the front. He set the scroll on the desk in front of him and gave it a pat before turning his full attention to one of his favorite people in Konoha.
Iruka cleared his throat and looked around the class, noting the confusion on most of their faces. For some reason, Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Chouji were passing a handful of bills and coins to Aburame Shino. None of them seemed at all surprised to have seen Naruto burst into the room like a whirlwind – like a maelstrom, Iruka thought with a chuckle.
"As I was saying before we were…interrupted," Iruka said, causing Naruto to grin at him from the front row, "this year, we have four new teams being formed: teams seven, eight, ten, and sixteen." He lifted the sheets of paper up in front of him and almost groaned. Who the hell made these teams? Whoever it was, he was going to track them down and gut them like a fish.
"Team Seven," he said, clearing his throat again, "consists of Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura-" He was cut off as the pink-haired girl practically leapt from her seat, making a noise that sounded like a cross between a squeal and a shout, and jabbed her finger at her blonde-haired rival.
"Ha! Take that, Ino-pig!" she crowed. Ino looked shocked, and Iruka knew it wouldn't last; she'd start yelling before the minute of disappointment was over. So he plowed valiantly, but reluctantly, on.
"-Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, and-"
"Pick me, pick me, pick me!"
"-yes, and you, Naruto."
Naruto made a little happy noise in the back of his throat and raised one fist into the air before bringing it down sharply, one of the many signs of 'yessssssss!', with a giant grin on his face.
Iruka sighed, mentally shaking his head. This entire team had disaster written all over it. Seriously… "You're jounin-sensei is Hatake Kakashi." …the only one as bad as Kakashi was Asuma, but, hey – at least Asuma had passed a team before.
Team Eight was much better; it even had a purpose! Thank goodness. It had been a while since Konoha had such a well-put-together tracking/spying team. "Team Eight consists of Hyuuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, and Aburame Shino. You're jounin-sensei is Yuuhi Kurenai." Ah, the new-promote. She had gotten her rank less than three months ago. Powerful with genjutsu, he'd heard. And Hinata needed a positive female-figure in her life.
"Team Ten consists of Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Chouji, and Yamanaka Ino. Your jounin-sensei is Sarutobi Asuma." Wow. He so did not envy that team – not the genin, and not the jounin, either.
He pointedly ignored the martyred groan from Shikamaru and the disbelieving shriek from Ino. Reacting would only provoke their actions.
Iruka frowned as he tried to figure out if Team Ten or Team Seven was the worst team he'd ever seen, then, with a shrug, decided that he could figure that out later. When he had a few scrap pieces of paper, a new pen, and a few hours to spare.
"Team Sixteen consists of Yoro Yumi, Sakiten Takato, and Muriki Ryoko. Your jounin-sensei is Ryuji Suimin." Younger brother of Ryuji Idate. Good guy. Iruka couldn't say he knew a lot about Suimin-san, beside the fact that he had already had three teams – his first had been prematurely disbanded for disorderly conduct, the second group had been separated after one member was killed and another crippled, and the last team all managed to advance to chuunin and went off on their own. But the team itself seemed pretty well-put-together, if a little unorthodox: two girls and one boy was unusual, let alone two girls and one boy two years younger than them.
He turned and placed the papers back onto his desk before addressing the class in its entirety. "That concludes the team announcements for the newest graduates of the Shinobi Academy." He gave them a soft smile. "The jounin-sensei will start coming in in a few minutes. They will call a team number, and the three from that team will follow them to wherever they wish to go. And from then on, you are their responsibility. You will listen to them, respect them, learn from them. They will be your teacher, your mentor, and your confident. You are not my students any longer."
Iruka straightened, and then bent his body at the waist, shifting into a respectful bow, his face humbly facing the floor. He was met with shocked silence as he came back up.
"Do your best," he said, flashing one final grin at the newest shinobi of Konoha. No one spoke a word as he turned and walked resolutely out the door. He closed it quietly behind him.
Silence.
Naruto's face hurt.
He was pretty damned sure that he'd smiled more in the last twelve hours then he had in his entire life. And that was saying something.
Iruka-sensei was awesome.
Naruto had been expecting some mushy, emotional goodbye from the Academy's favorite sensei – Iruka-sensei got very attached to his students, this he already knew – but what had happened was not what he had been expecting at all. He had…bowed to them. As if they deserved his respect, and not the other way around. As if they were better than him.
Psh. He could be so dumb sometimes – no one was better than Iruka-sensei.
But still, that single act only served to paste a stupid grin on his face all over again, as big as the one he had on last night when Iruka-sensei had handed over his own hitai-ate as proof of Naruto's graduation.
Idly, Naruto wondered if anyone had noticed that he had their teacher's headband, and that their teacher had gotten a new one. He knew there had to be a few.
He grinned.
Iruka-sensei was so awesome.
For having the patience to teach him, for having the patience to put up with all his pranks and tricks and traps, for caring enough to check up on him every so often, and for protecting him from Mizuki and letting him graduate and taking him out to ramen, and for understanding – for knowing how hard being an orphan was, how the attention he needed was the one thing that he so rarely got – everything he had gone through, and for just being there when he needed help reading or writing, or just to talk…Iruka-sensei was, hands-down, the greatest, coolest, most caring, helpful, awesome person ever to have been born.
He bounced in his seat in excitement.
And now he was going to get a new sensei!
Naruto frowned a little – he knew that this Kakashi guy wasn't trying to replace Iruka-sensei, but it sure felt like he was. He just hoped he could always go back and be able to be with Iruka-sensei like he usually was after he had a new sensei. He didn't want their relationship – teacher and student, friend and friend, father-figure and son, whatever they were, whatever bond they had – to change. He wanted to always be able to count on the chuunin to be there when he needed him.
Oh! And he had Sakura-chan on his team!
And the Bastard.
But he had Sakura-chan on his team!
He did a little dance in his head as he looked over at the object of his affections. She and Ino were, as per usual, fawning of Sasuke.
Hmm…Ino…ah, that was it! He wanted to ask her about mind jutsu. His gaze swiveled over to the Shinobi's Scroll, still sitting innocently on the desk in front of him. He frowned thoughtfully.
"I wonder what you guys have to say about all this…" he muttered to himself. He absentmindedly fingered the edge of the scroll as he looked back at Ino.
Talk to the Pranksters first, or talk to Ino first…?
Decisions, decisions. After all, he didn't know when her jounin-sensei would show up. It would be smarter to ask her now. But, then, he really wanted to check out the scroll and talk with Sparky, Spitfire, Hawkeye, and Irons.
Well, not really Hawkeye.
He shook his head around as a small buzzing sound reached his ears. He must be really thinking hard, if the quiet chattering of the people around him sounded more like a quiet hum than voices. He shrugged, and turned back to his thoughts.
Well, he didn't have to talk to Ino right now. He could always find her later, maybe go to her house. Then he would be able to ask her father, too; he was undoubtedly more knowledgeable than she about a person's mind.
Naruto nodded to himself and looked around. No one was sitting next to him, no one behind him. Good.
He grabbed the handle and pulled. There was a slight crinkle of paper as a section of the scroll came into view. Naruto raised an eyebrow when he saw how much was already written.
It appeared they could still speak when the scroll was rolled up. Interesting. He began reading from the top, where Irons' last entry - Irons thinks that now would be an opportune time to remind the owner that he was hurrying to do something – had not faded.
Below that lay the start of a deluge of sentences, starting with: Hawkeye thinks that the reader should be more careful when he jumps across rooftops. That must have been written when he landed on a weak spot of a roof and almost fell through. He smiled.
Spitfire would like to remind Hawkeye that the kid will still end up feeding him spiders and toilet water, so it would be best if he did not insult the kid further, in case the kid decides to add to the punishment.
Damn right!
Irons expresses his joy at being at the Academy once again.
Hawkeye shakes his head at the abrupt and conspicuous way the reader entered the room. Generally, shouting and slamming the door are not good ways to keep from being noticed.
It would be if everyone did that.
Sparky would like to point out that Hawkeye-san is just being a stick in the mud – as usual – and he should not be admonishing anyone about attention-seeking behavior.
Irons think that that applies to all of them, really.
Sparky would have to agree with Irons-san's point.
Hawkeye expresses his disdain at the Hatake having a genin team, especially one that includes the reader.
Hawkeye knew of his jounin-sensei?
Sparky would like to express his surprise that Kakashi-kun became a jounin-sensei, as he wouldn't have considered him any good with teaching.
And so did Sparky? And Sparky sounded a lot closer to him – calling him Kakashi-kun implied that he knew him well. Was Sparky a relative, maybe? Perhaps a close friend, a brother? A Teammate?
Spitfire would like to say that she thinks that the chuunin instructor sounds like a very nice person.
Naruto grinned. If only she knew.
Oh, if only they knew.
Hawkeye thinks that the chuunin instructor sounds like too much of a softy to be a real ninja.
Naruto growled at that, glaring at the paper. Hawkeye really pissed him off sometimes. Asshole. If the guy was still alive somewhere, he'd have to find him and beat the shit out of him.
Speaking of, he didn't know what had happened to the four of them. Were they all dead? Had one of them died, two, three? Were they still ninja? Could he find them? He supposed the names that they used on the Shinobi's Scroll could be their real-life nicknames. But how did one track someone down by just using nicknames? "Hey, Iruka-sensei, do you know someone nicknamed 'Irons' No? How about 'Sparky'? Did you ever teach someone named that?" Yeah, right. That would work. No, it was more likely that these names were only used between the four of them, a little friends-only correspondence.
Spitfire would like to point out that the kid and the chuunin instructor seem to have a kinship with each other, based on the few words they exchanged, and that it would be unwise for Hawkeye to continue his insults.
"Damn right," Naruto grunted.
Sparky thinks that Spitfire is awfully protective of this chuunin instructor, and would like to say that he was unaware that a chakra-imbued memory bound to a piece of paper could have a crush on someone.
Naruto felt his lips quirk up, and he let his eyes slide down to the next line – he had a feeling it was going to be Spitfire wishing she could beat Sparky over the head with a particularly heavy object.
Spitfire would smack Sparky if she could.
Eh, close enough.
Irons thinks that, to answer the owner's question of what they all think, he should probably read what they have been saying up until now.
Sparky would like to say hello, and it's very nice to see the new owner again, and it really does get quite stuffy when rolled up inside our scroll after a while.
That was the last entry. Naruto lifted his eyes from the scroll and looked around. Most of the class seemed to be in their own little worlds, talking quietly with each other, or staring expectantly at the door. He noticed two pairs of eyes on him, though: Uchiha Sasuke – with disdain, obviously; one of his eyebrows was raised slightly, though, as if he was idly wondering what Naruto was reading – and Aburame Shino – well, at least, he thought the boy was looking at him; his head was certainly turned towards him. He could just be looking at the door, like some of the others. He had a hand lifted towards his face, and Naruto could easily make out several small dots resting on top of it; he was talking to his bugs again, no doubt.
Sheesh, that guy was creepy.
Naruto shook his head and turned back to the scroll, just as a voice practically yelled in his ear, "Hey, what's that?" He yelped and fell out of his chair. He glared up at one Inuzuka Kiba, who was standing over him and grinning wolfishly. "I mean," he continued, as if he hadn't just made Naruto fall on his ass, "I haven't seen you read in, like, ever." His brown eyes shifted over to the paper, and Naruto scrambled to his feet, ready to force the boy away. "What's – aw, dude. That's so lame."
Naruto blinked. "Huh?"
"What the heck're you carrying around a completely censored scroll for, Naruto? You'd think you were actually doing something, with the way you were looking at it earlier," Kiba grumbled, shaking his head and walking away.
"…huh?" Naruto looked back at the scroll.
Sparky would like to remind the new owner that the Shinobi's Scroll is attuned to his chakra only, and thus, no one else can read his conversations with us.
"Oh." He shrugged. That made sense. "Okay then."
Slowly, the room began to empty as each jounin-sensei came in, called for their team, and left. First was Team Eight, then Team Sixteen three minutes later. Team Ten came about forty-five minutes after that, and Team Seven still had not been called. It had been over two hours since Iruka-sensei left the classroom.
Naruto was getting restless.
And when Naruto got restless, he got mischievous. And a mischievous Naruto was a dangerous Naruto.
He looked at the scroll and whined, "he's still not here yet, guys."
Sparky is surprised at Kakashi-kun's tardiness, and is somewhat wary as to what could have caused it.
Hawkeye thinks the Hatake was a stuck-up prick, but for some reason, that doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Hawkeye finds this interesting.
Spitfire thinks we should prank him.
Naruto grinned. If this girl were alive, he was going to find her and give her the biggest, sloppiest kiss he could muster. She had been saying the same variation of that sentence for the past hour. 'Spitfire thinks Kakashi-kun deserves a kick to the jewels for making the kid wait so long.' 'Spitfire wishes she could get out of this paper, find Kakashi-kun, and beat his face in for making us wait.' 'Spitfire suggests that the kid should prank him.' 'Spitfire would like to point out that Hawkeye is an idiot, and that Kakashi-kun deserves whatever's coming to him.' 'Spitfire orders the kid to prank. Him. Now.' And so on. It was funnier every time she brought it up.
"Sounds good to me. Got any suggestions?" he said quietly, careful not to speak too loud – didn't want Sasuke and Sakura-chan think he was talking to himself, or an inanimate object; they might think he was crazy! And that wasn't a good assumption to start any relationship on, romantic or friendship-wise. It was even worse than thinking he was incompetent.
He could practically see a faceless woman grinning like a shark as the next words appeared.
Spitfire would like to suggest that we use one of her pranks; she says that it was one she used on Kakashi-kun frequently when he was a midget.
"Do tell," Naruto prodded eagerly.
As the plan slowly unfolded, the newest Prankster couldn't help but grin widely, a feral tinge to his expression as he patiently read each simple material needed, and how everything was to be set up. And especially the final result, if all went well.
He didn't even notice the weird looks that he was getting from his teammates.
This was gonna be good.
Hatake Kakashi hummed to himself from behind his mask, slowly making his way down the road. He had his trademark book in hand, opened to page one hundred-eighty-seven – the start of chapter eleven, and quite possibly his favorite chapter in the entire Icha Icha series.
At this particular moment, however, the self-proclaimed 'porn with a plot' was not the thing on the forefront of his mind. Kakashi was, instead, far too busy wondering what he should eat for his mid-morning meal.
He chuckled to himself – though, to be honest, it came out more like a giggle than anything else – as his mind lingered for a moment on some of the more perverted thoughts of 'eating'.
He flipped the page.
He supposed he could stop by the market and pick up some fruit. No, wait, he only did that before a mission. 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away', and all that. He always ate an apple the day he left for a mission in the vain hope that it would ward him away from having to spend time in the hospital when he got back to Konoha – it was one of Obito's little habits. He'd picked up on a lot of them over the years.
He scratched at the scar across the left half of his face and made another humming noise.
He could always stop by Moritake's. They had fairly good food. Oh, wait, but he was allergic to the rich, upper-class morons that frequented that particular establishment. Darn.
How about that little restaurant by the library? There was never anyone there, and their sushi was fantastic. Even if he never really took the time to enjoy it. But…the library was, like, a ten minute walk from here.
Way too long.
He flipped the page and gave another chuckle/giggle. One had to keep up appearances, after all. He had a reputation to maintain.
Kakashi had just rounded a corner when a particularly pleasing smell hit him. He nodded to himself and closed his book, looking around for whatever was creating that scent.
Ah.
Ichiraku's.
He thought it over for a moment – did he really want to eat there? – before shrugging and brushing his doubts aside. It was plenty easier to not care.
So Kakashi ducked slightly as he walked past the paper curtain and into the little eatery. He sat down, put his favorite pastime into its pocket on his flak jacket, and informed the pretty brown-haired young woman of his order.
"Naruto!" Haruno Sakura hissed, wrenching her eyes away from her crush just long enough to berate the idiot. "What do you think you're doing?"
Naruto looked over his shoulder at her and smirked at her. "Kakashi needs to learn," he said, turning back his collaborated effort with Spitfire, "that letting someone who knows you're coming," he pulled gently on the wire in front of his face and grinned when it didn't move, "have too much time," he brushed a hand against the doorframe, "to prepare for your arrival," he double-checked the coiled spring that held a platform of chalk-dust-filled erasers, "is never a good thing." He stepped back and walked over to his desk, where he unrolled his scroll and stared at it, mumbling something.
Sakura seethed when he proceeded to turn his back towards her in order to focus on whatever was on that paper. How dare he! He was supposed to pay attention to her, not some scrap of paper!
Not that she wanted him to pay attention to her, she reminded herself, turning towards Sasuke-kun and fluttering her eyelashes in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner. She had Sasuke-kun to woo! Who would want attention from Naruto of all people? No, it just annoyed her that he was deliberately ignoring her, after all his running after her and asking her out for the past few years.
Asshole!
She mentally shook her fist at the blonde as she watched her crush sigh and stand up. "Oi, dobe," Sasuke said.
"'sup?" Naruto replied, not looking away from what he was reading.
How dare he ignore Sasuke-kun!
Sakura clenched her fist and glared at the red spiral on the back of Naruto's jacket, wishing much pain and torturous death upon him.
"I need to use the toilet," Sasuke grunted. Naruto hummed in thought.
"That's gonna be tough. You can't get out through the door."
"Naruto! Quit being an idiot and let Sasuke-kun through!" Sakura snarled, practically bristling in anger.
"You can't get out through the door," he repeated. "Go out the window. We're on the first floor – not like there's a big drop to the ground."
Sasuke 'hnnned' and slid open the glass window. With a glance at Sakura, he said, "don't follow me," and hopped out.
"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura called after him, her emotions warring between doing as Sasuke-kun told her to do, and being with Sasuke-kun wherever he went. The latter won after a minute of vicious battle and she climbed out the window and ran off after her crush.
Naruto sighed.
Kakashi's meal was surprisingly nice; it had everything one could possibly want in a little family-owned ramen stall: a few bowls of pork ramen, a pleasant atmosphere, a sexy little chef/waitress to shamelessly flirt with, and an annoyed father threatening him with a fairly dented frying pan.
Not bad. He might come here more often.
With a last parting wink at Ichiraku Ayame, Kakashi ducked back at and began walking once more. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't remember what it was…it was important, of that he was sure.
But what qualified as important?
There wasn't a new Icha Icha coming out – cue chuckle/giggle at the word 'coming' – for another two months, thirteen days, and a handful of hours and minutes. The next Icha Icha movie wasn't supposed to hit shelves for another two and a half years. He hadn't made any promises of food to his summons lately, so that wasn't it. Although, he should probably feed them soon anyway.
He hadn't heard of any A-rank assassination missions that needed doing. There wasn't a new librarian that he needed to go flirt with, or secretary in the Hokage's Tower, or shopkeeper in the market. There hadn't been any news of Jiraiya – god that he was – coming back to Konoha. He hadn't heard from Rin in years, neither through correspondence with her or from an official certificate of death; he honestly had no idea what happened to her. So it wasn't anything to do with her…
His feet carried him past the Shinobi Academy and he stopped. He backed up a few steps and looked over at the building.
Ah, yes. That was it. Today was the day he was supposed to get his newest team. And tomorrow was the day he was supposed to fail his newest team.
Kakashi smiled.
He so loved routine.
Humming to himself once more, he changed his direction and walked through the double-doors of the Academy. What impressionable adolescent youths would he get to corrupt today?
Naruto heard the window slide back open and said, "Did you get there without shitting yourself first?"
There was silence for a minute, before a grunt was given in response. Although that may have just been the chair groaning as it was sat upon.
"Sakura-chan didn't follow you into the bathroom, did she?" he joked.
Silence again. "She tried," Sasuke responded distastefully. Naruto chuckled, rolled up the scroll, and turned around to face his teammate.
"Sasuke-kun!"
Sasuke visibly cringed – something that Naruto seemed to find particularly funny, only to have him on the receiving end of the patented Uchiha Glare – as Sakura hopped back into the nearly-empty classroom. She immediately sat down in the seat next to her crush and placed her hands shyly in her lap.
Naruto huffed. Bastard. He wasn't so bad when his Club was absent, but whenever they showed up – especially Sakura-chan – he was all icy glares and biting retorts. Before today, Naruto would have said that Sasuke was the person that he most wanted to beat the shit out of. Now, the Uchiha had been bumped down to number two – something he knew would piss Sasuke off to no end if he ever told him – to make room for Hawkeye. No one had the right to say that Iruka-sensei was too soft to be a ninja. No one.
"Sakura-chaaaaaaan," he whined. "How long's it been since the other teams left?"
"Don't call me that!" She shook her fist at him. "And you know how to read a clock, figure it out yourself!" She turned back to Sasuke. "Don't let him distract you from our time together, Sasuke-kun," she said quietly.
Naruto looked up at the clock. Dammit. He knew how to read a digital clock – the numbers were right there, after all – like the one he had by his bed, but regular clocks were beyond him. There were no numbers on any of them! Sure, he knew a little: he knew where the long stick and the short stick needed to point for school to begin, and where they needed to be for school to end. But no one had ever taught him what they meant. And don't even get him started on the really small, thin stick. That one moved faster than both of the others, and he had no idea why. It sure seemed useless though.
He pouted.
And he would have continued pouting, had something not happened at that exact moment. And was it something.
Naruto saw movement out of the corner of his eye and heard a slight clatter.
The door opened.
A tall man with silver hair and a hitai-ate over his eye stepped into the room.
And…
Naruto couldn't keep the grin off of his face.
...chaos.
Kakashi wasn't completely sure what happened within the last five seconds.
One moment, he had been sliding open the door to room 7C and stepping inside. The next thing he knew, he was in the air, strung up by standard-issue ninja wire attached to both wrists and his left ankle, his chest and face were completely covered with chalk dust, and three very guilty erasers lay motionless on the floor.
He sneezed.
Something about this was familiar, too, and why couldn't he put his finger on it. Perhaps because his hands were forcibly held up in the air and he really couldn't put his finger on anything at the moment. Perhaps because the chalk dust was affecting his thinking. Perhaps because it was rather hard to try and replay in slow-motion what just occurred when there is an orange-clad blonde standing in front of you, grinning like a loon.
He sneezed again.
The blonde stepped forward, the smile not wavering in the slightest – why did it look so damned familiar? – and reached a hand out.
Kakashi froze in horror as the tan fingers deftly flicked open the left front pocket on his (now chalky-white) flak jacket and dip in, curl around the object within, and withdraw it from the confines of cloth.
His Icha Icha. In the hands of…of…of not his own!
He gasped, and his visible eye widened.
"No…" the jounin breathed. That was why it was so familiar. That was what it was. That blasted grin, with him strung up like a piñata, with his favorite book in the hands of his tormenter. Now all that was left was…
He stared at the boy, frozen, as he awaited the final blow to his ego that he knew was coming.
"Good morning, Kakashi-kun," the boy said politely, grinning like a fox as he lifted his free hand and quickly flicked the older man on the nose.
The Hatake hung his head in defeat. His worst nightmare had come true.
He was not looking forward to this.
He was not looking forward to this at all.