He promised her a new and better life
Out in Arizona
Another day had drawn to a close.
Iruka's hand twisted around the door knob. Various papers tucked under his arm and a red pen clenched in his teeth, the door clicked behind him as he walked down the concrete halls, sandals ringing on the hollow floors, the empty sound bouncing off lockers and closed doors.
To many, the darkened halls would sound like a lonely place, but to Iruka, it was more home then his own apartment.
Underneath the blue never-ending sky
The pen clicked against his teeth as he lost himself in thought.
He had papers to grade. He was behind on his laundry. Toodles the cat was probably ripping the faded couch to shreds at that very moment. His electric bill was overdue.
Rounding a corner, he blindly walked the halls, oblivious to the rapidly unfolding situation.
Swore that he was gonna get things in order
His mind on everything at the same time, Iruka sighed.
There was nothing he'd rather do then plop down in his chair at home with Toodles purring and kneading air on his lap, pull his hiate-ate over his eyes, and go to sleep.
He was drained. A tired strain in his step, he nearly limped down the halls, the weight of responsibility nearly becoming a physical burden.
So he wasn't prepared.
He'd send for her
When he left her behind, it never crossed her mind
The weight struck him from the right side. Caught off guard, he hit the concrete wall, white-washed a dirty off-white. He shoved the weight off of his chest.
A punching bag. White rice-grain fibers spilled out from a rip in the side of the smelly rubber skin and onto Iruka's navy shirt. A ringing sound emitted from the open door next to him.
Forgetting about his exhaustion, he followed the sounds of furious pounding.
There is no Arizona
No painted desert
No Sedona
He pushed the sliding door open a little more. The darkness was illuminated by the fluorescent lights above him. The gym.
The sounds of punching rang back and forth like ripples in a pond, ringing in Iruka's ears.
He pushed the door open just a little more and caught sight of her.
If there was a grand canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
Angrily shoving brown tendrils from her sweat-streaked face, she threw another wild punch at the red bag before her. Her knuckles connected with the bag, a foul smell emanating from the over-used bag. White grains and cotton spilled from the huge rip, before another blow sent it to the ground, spilling the white grains across the polished wooden floor.
The beads crackled beneath her bare feet as she looked briefly at the emptying bag, and the row of colored skins behind it.
She'd hit the last one so hard it flew out the door, and disappeared into the darkness of the hall.
No one was in the school at this time. Only her.
Alone. Again.
Her lips tightened as she swiveled to the next bag, and proceeded to beat it with all her strength.
But they don't exist
Those dreams he sold her
Normally, Iruka would have dismissed it as another Anko temper-tantrum.
But as his white fingers clenched the peeling paint of the frame of the door, he knew that wasn't the case this time. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Her eyes, violet of a shade that reminded Iruka of the wild flowers that clung to his front yard no matter how he mowed and cut them down, radiated something completely foreign.
She'll wake up and find
There is no Arizona
Grunting in frustration, Anko's lips peeled up into a scowl.
Coming here was supposed to relieve her stress. It wasn't. It was making it worse.
Something stung at her eyes. No, she wouldn't. She warned herself against it, and hit the bag harder. It crumpled to the floor like so many others.
She stared at the bag for a moment. It was like so many bodies that had crumpled.
Like mine.
Anko cast a glance down at her feet, her eyes following the gentle curve of her body, the trench coat that flared at her curved hips, her flat stomach, up to her chest.
A memory flashed through her mind that nearly sent her to her knees.
No, she would not fall. She wouldn't.
She resumed pounding the bags at a fevered pace, faster and faster, until her fists were a blur.
She got a postcard with no return address
Post marked Tombstone
What was that? Iruka wondered. Why did she look at herself that way?
Iruka's eyes remained frozen on Anko's face as she twirled with all the deadly grace imprinted in her mind from her years of training. Her violet eyes were closed shut.
Iruka found himself wishing she would open them. The tight look on her face was beginning to scare him. Perhaps her eyes would reveal her thoughts.
Something was definitely wrong.
It said "I don't know where I'm goin next
But when I do I'll let ya know."
Anko panted. Her legs whined from stress, begging her to cease her wild fighting.
No, I won't stop. No. The words rang like a marquee in her mind. No.
She leapt, smashing another punching bag into an orange and white pile of shredded filling.
Her trench coat swung loosely at her legs. With one hand, she gathered it, holding it protectively to her, as the other hand smashed a death-bringing attack on her "victim.
If I stop, he'll have me.
Sweat flung in all directions as she approached the last training device.
In seconds it lay obliterated on the ground.
May, June, July
She wonders why she's still waitin'
Iruka was having trouble following Anko's movements. She was fast. Bags lay massacred across the gym floor, like victims of a great battle.
He watched with somber eyes as Anko obliterated the last device. He caught the flash in her maroon eyes, but it was so quick he almost wondered if he'd actually seen it.
For it was something completely un-Anko like.
Fear.
She'll keep waiting cause'
"You've made a wise decision, my dear." he said, running a freezing finger down her face.
"Right." the young girl said, slightly worried at the intrusion to her face.
"But there's a catch." he said, slight mocking in his already-snaky voice.
Anko's pale eyes met his. She knew what that meant.
Anko simply tightened her eyes closed to try and block out the memories.
But they came faster and faster.
She picked up the remnants of the faded-orange punching bag and tried to beat the shreds harder.
If she could beat something, he'd be at bay.
There is no Arizona
No painted desert
No Sedona
"You agree, then?" he said, one black nail gently sliding across her young face.
Anko's eyes fell to her feet, her thoughts a jumble.
The caress of the nail ceased. A stern voice asked, "You agree"
Anko never took her feet off the floor.
"Yes"
Anko pounded harder and harder at the remnant in her hands until it was no more.
Desperately, she bit her lip and searched for any remains to beat, anything to make them stop.
She fell to her knees and attacked the pile of filler on the floor, beating the wooden floor over and over again, until blood spurted from her knuckles.
No! No! I'm safe in Kohana! she screamed inside, her mind reeling from past pain.
She didn't even realize the choking sobs were her own.
If there was a grand canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
Something was wrong. Something was sparkling on Anko's face as blood splattered the floor.
Iruka bounded up from his space and sped across the polished floor, his sandals squeaking.
Anko was sobbing out loud, her cries pounding in his head like a horse dancing on his skull.
In a moment, he slid to his knees on the floor next to the sobbing woman.
But they don't exist
Those dreams he sold her
"No! Please don't!" she screamed as the hands snaked over her.
"Relax." he said, even colder then the hard floor beneath her as his hands tore at the white shirt.
Anko covered her head with her hands and pulled her knees to her chest as sobs racked her.
"No! No! No!" she screamed out loud, oblivious to Iruka's presence.
Tears streamed down her face as she shook wildly. Her cried became louder, more animalistic.
As she remembered, her hands began to tear for something, anything.
She didn't even realize she was tearing at her own flesh, bloody knuckles meeting bloody arms as her fingernails tore at her pale, sweaty skin.
Iruka looked on, horrified. But, carefully, gently, he reached out to her, and gathered the trembling, bloodied woman to his chest.
She'll wake up and find
There is no Arizona
Anko shook wildly. The warmth of her blood in a puddle around her soaked through her coat, drenching her legs in it's sticky heat-grasping, burning vice.
The cloud of fog around her began to clear as the memories diminished, giving way to sane clarity as her senses returned. Her body trembled as she took in her surroundings.
Her eyes had been clenched so tightly, it took her a moment to remember she could see.
She registered her senses, breathing a deep breath of wood polish, sweat, blood, and faded cloth.
Her hands grabbed at the navy and green blur in front of her teary eyes, as she calmed, her heart beating to the time of the warmth breath on her shoulder.
"Iruka.." she said, in a pained voice.
Each day the sun sets into the west
Her heart sinks lower in her chest
Iruka had a lot of experience in restraining people.
Insane victims on assassination missions, dying comrades on the battle field, Naruto in a temper tantrum. With the same gentleness he used when carrying a sleeping Naruto home when he was young, he held the shaking female to him.
Anko was burrowing her head into the base of his neck, as if hollowing out a hole in his chest.
He felt the warm tears spilling down the neck of his shirt, the blood of her fists seeping through his chuunin jacket. Her arms were clenching his back like a lifeline.
He closed his eyes, and tried to imagine what she was thinking, breathing in the comforting smell of her exotic-colored hair, belayed by the smell of homelike dust.
And friends keep askin' when she's goin '
Finally she tells them, don't you know
"Iruka.." she said again, the familiar name helping to clear her head.
Iruka knew not to respond. His hand patted her left shoulder, knowing it comforted her.
The sobs were diminishing, and the tears flowing less, but the trembling continued.
"Iruka.." she said again.
"Shh.' he said in a quiet voice. "It's OK"
Anko buried her face in the folds of his navy shirt, feeling everything disappear, as she'd wished it would.
There is no Arizona
No painted desert
No Sedona
Anko's eyes clenched shut as she tried to think rationally.
Of all the things in her mind, she could only now think of Iruka's comforting smell.
The cat hair clinging to his jacket, the brown hair from his forehead poking her face as his face bent over her shoulder. Strangely, the soft tingle of his breath on her shoulder calmed her.
She breathed in a deep breath, and tried to speak, still blocking out the light of the blinking light bulb above them that illuminated a three-foot square around their intertwined bodies.
She knew now he would expect an explanation. He must think her insane.
If there was a grand canyon
She could fill it up with the lies he's told her
Right then, Iruka knew. Before the words tumbled from her small mouth, he knew.
"I.. I let him…" she said, her mouth trembling as she smashed her face to the warmth of his chest, wishing she could hide in this safe place forever.
"Shh." Iruka said, placing a soft kiss on the pale hair. "He can't hurt you anymore"
In spite of herself, Anko smiled.
"I won't let him." he said, eyelashes meeting the soft flesh of her neck. "I promise."
But they don't exist
Those dreams he sold her
At that moment, Anko felt a huge weight lift from her.
A burden of years relieved from her back, and she felt safe.
Safe. He couldn't hurt her anymore. So simple a promise, yet so meaning to her.
Her eyes filled with tears, overflowing onto her red cheeks.
She was safe, at long last. And now was content to collapse, Iruka's gentle and yet strong arms keeping her from harm. In that moment, she was safe.
She'll wake up and find
Iruka opened his eyes. The sobs had ceased from the woman. How long had they been here?
A few minutes, but to Iruka, it had been an eternity.
The still form in his arms was limp, her arms at his side. Iruka shifted to see the face.
A contented smile was spread across Anko's sleeping face.
Iruka smiled, and ran a finger over her reddened face, tears still clinging stubbornly to her, the last evidence of her fear dissipating.
There is no Arizona
So, even though Iruka had papers to grade, cats to feed, couches to repair, books to read,
He let himself melt into the warmth of her still form, his eyes closing.
He nodded forward, supported by Anko's body, a small grin across his pale face.
"Thank you, Iruka." she whispered, and closed