Thunk!

Jerking my head away, I stare with wide eyes at the kunai buried to the hilt in the training post. "Wh-what the hell?"

"You're taking up space, and wasting people's valuable time." A voice from behind me, someone older, taller, and, feminine...

Sort of.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you." What an irritating person. Ignoring the kunai, I begin punching at the post again. I don't have time to fool around with busybodies.

"Hm, maybe you should turn around and look at who you're dealing with before you shoot your mouth off... Little boy." Interesting, she doesn't seem that angered by my comment.

"Why bother? Like you said, my time is valuable." I continue to ignore her, hopefully, it'll provo-

I jerk my body to the side, there's no time for me to change my stance, so I lean way over, and twist at the waist and knees. Several sharp and pointy objects sink into the wooden post. I hope I leaned far enough.

"You managed to avoid them all, I see." Amused now eh?

(YOU BITCH! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME! ; )

Lifting up from my extreme limbo pose, I run my hand down my front. It looks like I'm dusting myself off, too cool to be anything less than perfect looking, right? But really, it's to see how close those things came to slicing me to ribbons. My shirt feels a hair thinner over my stomach, damn, she nearly made a mark there.

"Only out of respect, older women have the right of way." I'll bet that makes her blood boil too. Probably a Chunin, I don't think any Genin have that sort of skill.

"..." Boy, if a twitching eye could make a sound, it's gotta be that.

Turning around, I shift my stance to lean back on the post. "Well, I'll give you th- Gaaah." She- "Omph."

"Hm?" She looks a bit surprised. I wonder why.

Probably because I missed the post when I got a good look at her. My, the sky looks so blue today, I don't spend enough time flat on my back enjoying it.

Footsteps, and a face fills most of my view. "..." Where to start? Well, she has deep purple hair, done back in a spiky ponytail. A Konoha forehead protector is holding back her bangs somewhat, and she's wearing some sort of pendant, I can't get a good look at it while it's dangling down by my nose like that. She's wearing the regular ninja footwear, but the heel's aren't cut out like some folks wear it. Shin guards, colored a flat grey, an interesting fashion statement these days. A tan trenchcoat with a maroon lining. Tangerine is an odd choice for a miniskirt, but who am I to judge? I'm too busy staring at the rest of her outfit.

Or lack-there-of.

Seriously, she's wearing the same thermal netting that every other ninja wears. That's it. And it's completely see-through, did I mention that? Really, she's leaning right over me, see through body stocking and all, with an open trench coat, no less. Not every ninja comes equipped with shame, I guess.

Uh-oh, she's getting one of those 'I know what you're staring at' looks on her face. Think of something quick.

"If you don't get away from me, I'll scream rape." I mirror her expression, and speak in the blandest, flattest tone I have.

"Eh?" Oh yeah, that worked, now she's totally off guard. Time to make my move.

Reaching up, I grab her jacket collar, can't use her shirt, because she ISN'T WEARING ONE! And pull her an inch or so closer. "Fine..." I let out a despondent sigh. "At least make it semi-gentle... I am a virgin." Always use everything you have to fight with, even if it isn't a weapon. "And underage." And never be above dirty tricks when your butt is on the line.

She makes a few half attempts at forming words, and seems to be trembling a little. Heh, I bet it's not everyday that she's called a pervert. Hm, do people even call girls perverts?

Uh-oh.

-

It was sometime after noon when I woke back up. Not only did I have one mother of a bruise on my face, but it looks like she kicked dirt all over me too.

-

I do my best to ignore the stares as I slurp up my ramen. It's not surprising really, since it's not often you see a guy with a single, continuous cut in the shape of a heart on his right cheek. "I think she likes me."

"You think so?" Master Iruka glances over at me, away from his ramen, and, harder to ignore, a blond kid in bright orange engulfing noodles at a rate that would rival master Gai's maximum downhill velocity.

If he was addicted to steroids laced with caffeine and speed.

"Mmmmm... Why else would she go to all the trouble of putting this piece of art on my face?" I click my chopsticks together, I'm more focused on my current train of thought than food.

"I wouldn't call that art..." Master Iruka sweatdrops, smiling weakly. He just doesn't get it.

"Let me explain then." Carefully picking up a noodle, I begin winding it around one chopstick. "First off, she attacks me, she's obviously good enough to hit me, but doesn't. A warning." I close my eyes, trying to place her face to a name. "Second, she walks over to see if I'm ok when I fall over... On purpose, mind you."

Iruka nodded twice quickly. "Of course, of course." Yeah, real convincing sensei.

"Third, when I make, um... An observation as to her intent, she..."

"Clobbers you?" Damn blond... Spiky haired... Dumb face. Ok, not my best insults, but he shouldn't be butting in!

I sweatdrop. "Lulls me to sleep... She takes the time to mark this into my cheek, and leaves nothing behind, not a single trace." I slurp up the noodle I was toying with. "Every single throwing star and kunai, gone. And." I lightly touch a finger to my cheek, jerking my hand away at the sharp sting. "There wasn't a trace of blood on my face when I woke up."

"Oh?" Now master Iruka looks interested.

"Bugs? It could be bugs. They eat blood, right? Or birds?" Ugh, that orange kid is as dumb as he looks.

"Bugs don't leave saliva after they're done." That's the thing that bothers me, no blood, and... I continue to touch my cheek experimentally.

"Could be..." Iruka-sensei looks a bit distant. He must know somebody who fits the bill.

"You know a Chunin who doesn't wear a shirt, at all?" He must know her, it's master Iruka, after all. Teachers know stuff, right?

"Chunin? No." Great, torpedo my ship of hope, why don't you?

Sighing, I pick up my bowl and begin slurping up the broth. It's nice and salty, at least I have that to console me.

"Jounin, yes." Master Iruka looks a bit surprised and disgusted.

Maybe it's because I dropped my bowl and sprayed broth all over his face. I could see how that could affect a person.

Wiping off his face, master Iruka gives me a sour look.

"Ah heh... Sorry?" I smile sheepishly, but my mind was whirling already. A Jounin? Is a word, crap. In two words, holy crap. "Whats her name?"

"You're better off staying away from her Ebisu." Orange boy looks over at me at the mention of my name. Meh, he probably thinks I'm related to Konohamaru's teacher.

As if.

"I'll take it under advisement. Name, please?" Now I really want to know. If master Iruka says she's bad for me, this oughta be good.

With a sigh, Iruka picks up his chopsticks. "Mitarashi Anko."

I stare at master Iruka for a moment. "Iruka-sensei..." He looks at me. "Didn't anyone ever teach her to dress decently?"

Iruka sweatdropped, his face splatting into his ramen.