Notes from Author: Well, here we are again. The second installment. Yes, they are short, though I'll try and aim around 1000 words. " Makes it easier to read in small chunks, I think, and I can update quicker. This story isn't going to be that long though. .."" And sorry, sorry, sorry, SORRY for taking so long. ;; Finals are finally over!!
"What am I doing here?" Asuma asked himself. He was standing at the door of an apartment in one of those trendy new buildings that seemed to be popping up here and there. The walls inside were a bleached white, a discomfort to the eye that is used to the soft creams and natural woody colours of the outside of buildings. Weathered down to a fine sandy colour on most of the older ones. He fiddled with an unlit cigarette in his fingers. The door stood unmoving in front of him, 206 painted in a solid red at head level. Asuma raised his hand and knocked his knuckles right on the 0. He waited calmly. The sound of light footsteps approached the door and the handle rattled as it opened. Kurenai, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, stood in the doorway holding a certain lighter in her hand.
"Ah, I figured it was you. I must've picked this up yesterday when we bumped into each other," she said as she handed the lighter back to him. "I was planning on returning it during the next mission assigning, but it seems you beat me to it." A slight smile touched her features. An apologetic smile, nothing more.
Asuma lit up the smoke and took a puff, nodding while Kurenai spoke. "It was my dad's."
"What?" Kurenai had stepped out onto the landing and shut the door behind her. She was barefoot and looked remarkably different when not wearing her usual outfit. With no forehead protector on, her hair fell over her strange eyes, shrouding her intense gaze. Though wearing a plain shirt and shorts, the curves of her body were still quite evident. A definite sex appeal could not be denied to her and yet she was often over looked by many. Probably because of the serious expression set onto her face at all times or her business like bearing.
"The lighter. It was my dad's." He turned it over in his hand. It was a butane lighter with a snapping lid, a smooth silver piece, warm to the touch after recent use. "That's why I came to get it." He pocketed it and took the cigarette in his hand.
"Oh, right." There was a moment of stilled silence, the two Jounin standing on the landing and staring at the floor. Kurenai finally spoke up again. "I hear we're getting Genin students this spring."
Asuma nodded again and looked up at the ceiling for a different view if not as a subconscious eye movement when recalling an event. "Groups of three, like usual. We train them into soldiers and prepare them for the Chuunin exam if we deem them good enough. It's not bad work," he replied. The end of his cigarette never had a stack of ash on the end. It was if it all burned away completely. She wondered what brand he bought.
"That's good to hear. I haven't had any experience as a teacher before. What can you tell me about it?" Kurenai leaned with her back against the wall with her hands tucked behind her back next to Asuma and listened to him describe past students, events and anecdotes from life as a Jounin. He would scratch at his beard every now and then, or rub his chin while trying to remember something and she would nod at all the correct places and ask questions and comment on his stories (the proper aizuchi, of course). The mood relaxed greatly with the new conversation and they were soon laughing openly.
"What time is it? I was supposed to meet Anko at this restaurant she wanted to show me. I better get ready and go. Well, I'll see you around, Asuma," said Kurenai as she went back into her apartment with a quick wave. Asuma waved back and began to leave. Not a man to rush himself, he stayed on the landing, sitting on the stairs, to finish his cigarette. When Kurenai did leave to meet with her friend, she noticed that the landing still smelled of smoke.
The lounge was busy with shinobi of all ranks filling in and out, stopping for a quick conversation or to sit and have a break. The large black oak piano sat unplayed, its ivory keys beckoning passers by to sit and let it sing as it used to. Asuma slid a finger over the propped up cover, a line of brightly polished black shining though the dust. He could remember a time when it was played. It seemed so long ago. A trio of obnoxious Chuunin behind him tore his thoughts from him. Asuma turned to sit on the piano chair and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his legs. He blew a puff of smoke to his knees and listened in on the conversation.
The three stood around in a small circle in a corner, their voices cutting through everyone else's in the room and their arms waving about wildly with little consideration of those around them. "Hey, hey dude! She's hot, yeah, but who do you think has the biggest," he stopped and gestured by cupping his hands in front of his chest. The others burst into fits of laughter. "So like, I think it would be Miyoko."
"No, no. Definitely Anko. She's got the goods. Ha ha ha!"
"Yeah, she's not bad, but what about that other one that's always with her? I forget her name..."
"Oh dude! Yeah! The bitchy one that yelled at us... she'd look bigger if she just wore less, you know, clothes. Heh heh."
"What a cow, huh? But I'd sure like to get a hold of 'them', eh? Huah hah hah!"
"Right! It was, ummm, Kurenai! That's it! Urk!" The Chuunin gasped in horror at Asuma who now stood before them, a tight grip on the neck of the Chuunin's vest. "Uhh... can I help you?" said the lesser ninja indignantly, attempting at sounding tough. The look on the Jounin's face silenced them all.
"What's so funny guys?" asked Asuma, puffing smoke into the captured ninja's face. "You think it's alright to say those things about you're superiors and get away with it, eh?" His grip tightened on the vest.
"No, no, man! We were just kidding around, you know?" The Chuunin laughed nervously while sweat beaded down from his face.
Asuma turned to the other two and dropped their friend. "I suggest you three all start shaping up. Next time I hear you talking about anyone like that, you may not live to regret it." His voice was low and gravelly and his fist was balled up so tight that his large knuckles turned a sickly white. He wasn't sure why he was reacting as such, himself. The anger that was boiling out of him has sprung up seemingly out of nowhere.
The two pulled up their friend who had discovered that his weak knees would not support his weight anymore. "We'll just be going now. Ahah ha." A guilty conscious followed them as they somehow they managed to escape out through the milling people and shuffled away down the hall.
"What am I doing here?" Asuma asked himself. He was standing at the door of an apartment in one of those trendy new buildings that seemed to be popping up here and there. The walls inside were a bleached white, a discomfort to the eye that is used to the soft creams and natural woody colours of the outside of buildings. Weathered down to a fine sandy colour on most of the older ones. He fiddled with an unlit cigarette in his fingers. The door stood unmoving in front of him, 206 painted in a solid red at head level. Asuma raised his hand and knocked his knuckles right on the 0. He waited calmly. The sound of light footsteps approached the door and the handle rattled as it opened. Kurenai, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, stood in the doorway holding a certain lighter in her hand.
"Ah, I figured it was you. I must've picked this up yesterday when we bumped into each other," she said as she handed the lighter back to him. "I was planning on returning it during the next mission assigning, but it seems you beat me to it." A slight smile touched her features. An apologetic smile, nothing more.
Asuma lit up the smoke and took a puff, nodding while Kurenai spoke. "It was my dad's."
"What?" Kurenai had stepped out onto the landing and shut the door behind her. She was barefoot and looked remarkably different when not wearing her usual outfit. With no forehead protector on, her hair fell over her strange eyes, shrouding her intense gaze. Though wearing a plain shirt and shorts, the curves of her body were still quite evident. A definite sex appeal could not be denied to her and yet she was often over looked by many. Probably because of the serious expression set onto her face at all times or her business like bearing.
"The lighter. It was my dad's." He turned it over in his hand. It was a butane lighter with a snapping lid, a smooth silver piece, warm to the touch after recent use. "That's why I came to get it." He pocketed it and took the cigarette in his hand.
"Oh, right." There was a moment of stilled silence, the two Jounin standing on the landing and staring at the floor. Kurenai finally spoke up again. "I hear we're getting Genin students this spring."
Asuma nodded again and looked up at the ceiling for a different view if not as a subconscious eye movement when recalling an event. "Groups of three, like usual. We train them into soldiers and prepare them for the Chuunin exam if we deem them good enough. It's not bad work," he replied. The end of his cigarette never had a stack of ash on the end. It was if it all burned away completely. She wondered what brand he bought.
"That's good to hear. I haven't had any experience as a teacher before. What can you tell me about it?" Kurenai leaned with her back against the wall with her hands tucked behind her back next to Asuma and listened to him describe past students, events and anecdotes from life as a Jounin. He would scratch at his beard every now and then, or rub his chin while trying to remember something and she would nod at all the correct places and ask questions and comment on his stories (the proper aizuchi, of course). The mood relaxed greatly with the new conversation and they were soon laughing openly.
"What time is it? I was supposed to meet Anko at this restaurant she wanted to show me. I better get ready and go. Well, I'll see you around, Asuma," said Kurenai as she went back into her apartment with a quick wave. Asuma waved back and began to leave. Not a man to rush himself, he stayed on the landing, sitting on the stairs, to finish his cigarette. When Kurenai did leave to meet with her friend, she noticed that the landing still smelled of smoke.
The lounge was busy with shinobi of all ranks filling in and out, stopping for a quick conversation or to sit and have a break. The large black oak piano sat unplayed, its ivory keys beckoning passers by to sit and let it sing as it used to. Asuma slid a finger over the propped up cover, a line of brightly polished black shining though the dust. He could remember a time when it was played. It seemed so long ago. A trio of obnoxious Chuunin behind him tore his thoughts from him. Asuma turned to sit on the piano chair and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his legs. He blew a puff of smoke to his knees and listened in on the conversation.
The three stood around in a small circle in a corner, their voices cutting through everyone else's in the room and their arms waving about wildly with little consideration of those around them. "Hey, hey dude! She's hot, yeah, but who do you think has the biggest," he stopped and gestured by cupping his hands in front of his chest. The others burst into fits of laughter. "So like, I think it would be Miyoko."
"No, no. Definitely Anko. She's got the goods. Ha ha ha!"
"Yeah, she's not bad, but what about that other one that's always with her? I forget her name..."
"Oh dude! Yeah! The bitchy one that yelled at us... she'd look bigger if she just wore less, you know, clothes. Heh heh."
"What a cow, huh? But I'd sure like to get a hold of 'them', eh? Huah hah hah!"
"Right! It was, ummm, Kurenai! That's it! Urk!" The Chuunin gasped in horror at Asuma who now stood before them, a tight grip on the neck of the Chuunin's vest. "Uhh... can I help you?" said the lesser ninja indignantly, attempting at sounding tough. The look on the Jounin's face silenced them all.
"What's so funny guys?" asked Asuma, puffing smoke into the captured ninja's face. "You think it's alright to say those things about you're superiors and get away with it, eh?" His grip tightened on the vest.
"No, no, man! We were just kidding around, you know?" The Chuunin laughed nervously while sweat beaded down from his face.
Asuma turned to the other two and dropped their friend. "I suggest you three all start shaping up. Next time I hear you talking about anyone like that, you may not live to regret it." His voice was low and gravelly and his fist was balled up so tight that his large knuckles turned a sickly white. He wasn't sure why he was reacting as such, himself. The anger that was boiling out of him has sprung up seemingly out of nowhere.
The two pulled up their friend who had discovered that his weak knees would not support his weight anymore. "We'll just be going now. Ahah ha." A guilty conscious followed them as they somehow they managed to escape out through the milling people and shuffled away down the hall.