Written by Kiwifluff and Beta'd by F.t (bless her)

Naruto does not belong to me in any way… that is, not physically :D if it were truly mine I'd horde it to myself and never let it go. EVER. I really must thank F.t for being so generous and editing and giving her time to improve my stuff. Really appreciate it. Any this has been wandering around in my head for while. Changed the titled because I don't wants to give the story away… not that its anything brilliant mind you. Enjoy and review please!


Chapter 1.

Iruka despised spring cleaning. Everyone thought he loved to work, that paperwork was his passion… they'd obviously misunderstood his dedication. He did it for the sake of giving himself a purpose, something to live for. This particular spring was going to be the most hated. Why? Iruka decided the year before to take out and air all of his parent's belongings. That meant polishing all their kunai, shuriken and blades; dusting his mother's old figurines and animals; and clothes, he HATED washing.

Above all the reasons said above, Iruka hated spring cleaning because of the memories it brought him, and sometimes lack of them. It was a strange, unnerving feeling… Knowing that you'd forgotten and knowing that it had been important, that it had been treasured. One such example was a stuffed squirrel; obviously well loved in all its tattered glory. However Iruka couldn' tremember how he got it, who he got it from or anything… complete blankness. Many memories had vanished since the untimely death of his parents. Iruka had never stopped regretting since.

Putting his thoughts aside, the teacher crouched among the boxes he had brought out from the storeroom. He already knew what was inside most of them, having packed quite a few himself. But there were some that he'd never opened. One wasn't even a box, but a chest. The sort you'd see in fairy-tale illustrations. The sort that held priceless treasures or terrible secrets, stuff like that.

The chest was decked in heavy oak and ivory carvings, depicting fanciful scenes of enormous, grotesque fish, sharks with crab arms, armored mermen holding tridents, sleek dolphins playing with seals and more. Whoever had made the chest must have had an incredible imagination to conjure up all that and make it into an art. He'd always wondered how his parents managed to get their hands on such an item, it looked very rare and expensive.

Well, it was now or never. Iruka bit his lip and fiddled with the lock, half expecting some jutsu or ghost to pop up and give him a good slap on the wrists. But his worries had been for nothing, the ancient lock grudgingly clanking open and giving him access to its treasures but the stench ofrot was so bad he had to slam the lid shut. He carried the chest to the balcony so his apartment wouldn't get stunk up.

He opened it for a second time and got a good look at what was making the stench. Furs; Rotted, hole-ridden things that should have belonged on a carcass. Returning inside he came back out with a rubbish bag, and proceeded to stuff the decomposing skins into said bag. It was a pity he had to throw them out, but keeping them would have definitely been a hazard to his health. However, as he proceeded to stuff the third fur in he was amazed. The skin practically gleamed in his hands, preserved and in perfect condition.

His first thought upon seeing the fur should have been; 'Impossible' or 'what a beautiful skin'. But neither of those came to mind. This first thought was accompanied by an overwhelming sense of happiness and recognition, as if he were greeting an old friend upon his or her return home. The thought was expressed by a single word.

"Mine," No sooner had the word spilled from his lips he dropped it, shocked. What had he just said!


Yea, short. I'm a short chapter writer person. But you know what they say 'quality over quantity!' >> though I'm not sure if this makes into the quality section ;;