a walk in the rain
Kurenai
It is dark by the time Team 8 and I are done with the day's mission. We have spent an entire day in the woods behind the village. Apparently the arrival of spring calls for some cleaning up to be done. We were chosen to pick up litter along the paths.
Yeah, the life of a shinobi sure is exciting. But I am okay with that. I don't want to put these kids in danger before they're ready. They're not ready yet. They have much to learn still.
I congratulate Kiba, Hinata, and Shino on a job well done and remind them not to be late for training tomorrow. They appear pretty worn out, and I hope they all get good rest tonight. I'm feeling rather worn out myself. Yet they get to scamper on home. I get to go file our paperwork.
I watch them go, studying their behavior. Kiba is trying to talk Shino into grabbing a bite to eat. Shino doesn't seem to be interested; not until Hinata joins in the asking, anyway. I smile as the three of them go off together. They're perfect. I chose these three because I felt they will work well together, better than the other teams. Synchronization will come easily for them. They could be friends. They could be family.
My team fills in each other's gaps. They complement each other well. Kiba is all-out frontal action and toughness, yet he craves the others' approval and affection. Hinata will oblige and give that affection, but she must be treated gently before she will do so, which encourages Kiba to calm down.
Shino's seriousness grounds Kiba well, and his strength allows him to hold up under the daily barrage of Kiba's roughhousing. Hinata and Shino are both quiet souls that tend to seek peace. They seem to find solace in each other's presence. Alone on a team with two Kibas, Hinata or Shino might be overpowered, overshadowed. This way, together, each of them can stand out in their own uniqueness.
An early evening rain begins to fall. I hear myself hoping Hinata puts her hood up in the rain. If she gets sick, Kiba will be a handful without her around...
Hinata is a lucky girl. I can say this in spite of the strangeness she experiences at home. Right from the start, it seems, she's got two brothers here on Team 8. We haven't been together long, but it is already obvious. Those two boys would do anything to protect her. They'd kill for her.
She is a lucky girl.
My hair is dripping by the time I reached the head office. The door in view, I hurry the last few yards across the grass. As I reach out for the handle, though, the door opens, smacking me squarely in the head. I stagger back a step, seeing stars.
"Oh," a familiar low voice sounds in my ears. "Kurenai."
My vision clears. I blink slowly. "Asuma." God, what a moron I probably seem. What kind of jounin walks into doors? He'll probably tell the others and they'll have a good laugh about it over a beer.
Asuma is behind the door, ever-present cigarette dangling on his lower lip. He runs his fingers through his dark hair. "What are you doing here?"
I rub the sore spot on my head and look away, embarrassed. The rain has probably washed my mascara down my face. It's supposed to be waterproof, but you know how that goes. It's likely in a big black mess and I'd really rather he didn't see me that way. I don't really want them-- the guys, the other instructors-- to think I'm vain, but hey, some of us need a little makeup. That's just a fact. "I'm doing my paperwork for today."
"Oh," he replies, and there was a pause as if he is going to say more, but nothing follows. Maybe he hadn't meant to say anything more, and I had misunderstood. Or maybe he is searching for a good way to politely leave. I don't know what to say or do, so I opt for ducking under his arm and into the door.
Once I am alone, I feel calmer. Paperwork tonight doesn't take quite as long as it usually does. This late, not many others are hanging around the office to chitchat. Sign, collate, file, and I'm in and out in a good ten minutes. Time to get myself home for a hot cup of coffee and some dinner. I can hear as I walk down the hall that the rain has grown louder. Thunder rumbles in the distance.
I am not enthused at the prospect of getting soggy on the way home. I am so not in the mood for rain.
As I turn the corner, I see a lone firefly in the dim light. It's Asuma, sitting there with that cigarette. I can't help staring at him. What's he doing just hanging around? Doesn't he have anything better to do than sit and read the paper in the head office?
He stands to his full height when he sees me. It makes me feel slight in comparison. His build is very different from the average Konoha shinobi. Looking at him, you get an impression of strength and solidarity, as opposed to stealth and speed. It's strange, though... his size gives him an air of maturity-- but for the moment, his expression is incongruously boyish. He seems shy, almost, as he says, "Um, I'm sorry about the door."
I rub my head ruefully, wishing we could forget about it. "No, it was me."
He's looking at me funny, and I feel a bit of dread in the pit of my stomach. Some kind of question is coming. Some kind of question I'd really rather not hear.
There are a lot of those, for me. So, how's your family? Want to go out for a drink sometime? What's with your eyes? Why don't you ever call? Come here often? Do you have a boyfriend? How did you make it to jounin, anyway?
I am so not in the mood for questions.
"Well, see you." I mutter something quick and turn to leave, hoping to make a quick getaway. I open the door and balk. Somehow, despite the fact that I am an articulate and intelligent adult member of the human race, I feel surprised to remember that it's pouring outside.
Isn't that great? I get embarrassed, I seem to transform into a blithering idiot.
I look in the big can by the door where there are usually spare umbrellas for people to use, but the can is empty. It's late, so everyone has probably already taken them all. Dammit. No quick getaway for me. I'll have to just make a dash for it.
"Hey, Kurenai," I hear him say. "wait..."
He crosses ahead of me and holds up his newspaper, offering me some shelter underneath. I must say I'm taken aback by this. I look up at him hard, wondering what's going on with him. Is he hitting on me? I am so not in the mood to be hit on.
He opens his mouth and I cringe, trying to formulate some kind of cold retort in preparation for what I am sure will come next. But the line never comes. Instead he just smiles, his cigarette in his teeth, as he simply says, "Come on. I'll walk you."
I have no idea what to make of this. Sure, it's nice, but... "No," I automatically decline. "I don't want you to go out of your way for me."
He waves it away in a friendly manner. "Nah, it's on the way."
I blink. "Asuma-- you don't know where I live."
He visibly processes this piece of information, and then cracks up laughing. Not at me, just, laughing. Somehow the sound is compelling, good-natured. It's infectious, even. I find myself smiling. The smile becomes a chuckle. I realize, maybe he doesn't have an ulterior motive. Maybe he's just trying to make friends. I see, for a moment, how stupid I can get when I try to put too much thought into things.
His laughter is low and warm and it seems to bubble right up from inside of him, overflowing into the air. I decide in that moment that if he and I were ever to become friends, I'd want to hear that sound every day. There's something real about it.
So I join Asuma under the newspaper. We set out across the fields, together. The rain patters down on the paper above our heads. He takes a deep drag of the cigarette. In the humid air the smoke hangs heavily around us. He looks up at the drizzling sky. "So... how do you like it so far? Teaching?"
"It's good, I like it." I answer. "I like my team."
"Any troubles or anything?" he asks, with a note of polite concern.
"No, not really. The kids work well together. They're getting to know each other." There may be some troubles later, though. I can already sense somewhat of a rivalry developing between the two boys...
He nods and scratches his beard, thoughtful. "That's good." I wonder if the other instructors are expecting me to have trouble. I'll show them, I tell myself.
"What about your team?" I ask, with forced civility.
"My kids all know each other already," he admits. "The problem is getting them to quit squabbling and work together."
"Ah." So he wasn't trying to suggest I'm the only one with trouble on my team. I think of his group, the Ino-Shika-Chou of this generation. I wonder if perhaps he is having the same problem I am? I try to picture Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Chouji trying to one-up each other, and the idea just does not compute. "Somehow I can't imagine either of those boys picking fights."
He chuckles at this. "It's not the boys who're the problem."
"Oh!" Well, that's a completely different story altogether. I remember Yamanaka Ino, the blonde with the sharp blue eyes.
"Ino," he sighs, sounding tired, "Can be kind of... difficult. She has to have her way, or else."
I try to think of the positive. "She seems to be a very confident girl." A girl like Ino wouldn't have to be cajoled into things, like Hinata does.
"Seems to be," he agrees. He looks away, then says solemnly, "I'm not too sure about what's beyond that."
I find this very interesting. None of my teachers were ever particularly sensitive to the inner workings of the mind of the teenage girl. I wonder how different I might be if they had been. I wonder if I'm doing okay for the boys. I hope I am. Will there be things I won't be able to help them with? What will happen in their lives in the next three years?
We have reached the edge of the village now. The rain has driven people indoors and the streets are fairly quiet. We make our way through the streets, stepping over overflowing gutters. Suddenly, Asuma says, with a smirk, "You know, she wanted to be on your team."
I balk. "What!" Why me?
Asuma grins, holding his cigarette in his teeth. "The first day we were assigned to our teams, I went to go meet the kids. Ino walked right up to me and told me she hated me, she hated my guts, and she wanted to be with 'The Sexy and Cool Kurenai-sensei' and that she would never, ever get over the disappointment."
Sexy and Cool? "What on earth?" My face turns about three shades of red. I'm not sure if he's teasing me or not. It's embarrassing for me to hear him say that, even if he's quoting someone else.
Asuma gives a good-natured laugh. "I know. But that's so Ino."
"What did you do?" I want to know. "I mean, what do you say to that?" I have no idea what I would say. I'd be completely out of my element, dealing with a girl like that.
He adjusts the paper over my head, trying to cover us better. "Well, I just told her, all right, if she could spar me and get one good hit in, then fine. She could go be on whichever team she wanted."
I gape at him, astonished. "You can't just say things like that. I mean, what would you have done if she had?"
Asuma shakes his head, calm and sure in contrast to my worry. "She couldn't have."
"How do you know?" I furrow my brow, skeptical.
"I just do." I don't understand what he means, and he gives he a lazy grin. "Defense is my thing. And strategy. And attacking like a blind boar is something that seems to run in the Yamanaka family."
I feel amused. He really knows his kids. "I see." I'm curious now, though, about his fighting style. "Defense, huh?"
He blinks and stares back at me. Maybe it's because I'm too used to hearing Gai at our meetings, but I expect him to make some kind of challenge. I know they're all wanting to test me, the rookie teacher. I'm up to it, though-- I'll show them. I wait for it, but he doesn't spout off any lines. He looks uncomfortable under my scrutiny. "What?" he asks, possibly irritated.
"You don't jump at the chance to fight," I observe.
He looks away. "No. I don't." There is a bitter note in his voice. I decide I like it. Somehow a person who knows the true weight of violence seems so much more valuable to have around, to me.
"It's... refreshing." So different from most of the men I meet.
"Is it?" he questions. I nod duly. "Thanks," he says. He doesn't sound like he's sure if it's something to be proud of.
I decide I like that, too.
We have reached my apartment building. I point to the doorstep. "Here's my place."
"Hm? Oh, right. Well." He watches me leave him, watches me take out my keys. I'm not sure what to say, as usual, so I opt for unlocking the gate. His face darkens for a moment. He turns to go. "See you."
Wait. Was he... blushing?
"A-Asuma," I call to him, without thinking. I feel kind of happy. I'm glad to be dry. I feel warm and I feel pleased and it is awfully nice to have talked to another grown-up for a while. "Thank you."
His smile is ready and real. He nods and turns to go, cigarette smoke trailing behind him. "Anytime."