a walk in the rain
Asuma

I was just finishing up my paperwork for the day. My neck was killing me. The kids and I had been training at the practice grounds, and Ino wanted to show me her new "Ino Super." Apparently the "Ino Super" is a rapid high kick to the head. Nice of her to warn me. That's Ino for you-- but, even as my neck was cracking back into place, she was waiting to hear some praise from me.

That's pretty cool. They're all cool kids.

So anyway, I was dirty and sweaty and ready to go home and get a hot bath and hit the sack. Plus I think I was on my last cigarette. So, like a dumbass, I bust out the front door of the building, only to hear a really sickening bump.

I catch the door, surprised, and look around. "Oh, Kurenai..."

There she is, standing there, rubbing her head. I bashed her in the head with the fricking door. Great. She's going to think I'm a complete boor. What kind of man goes around hitting women with doors?

She is wet from the rain. It trickles in droplets down her hair, settling onto her pale cheeks. Her lips are flushed, probably from the cold. She blinks, her dark lashes flutter, and her eyes focus on me for just a split second. I'm no connoisseur of women or anything, but she's pretty. I don't think she wears makeup. If she does, she doesn't really need to.

I suddenly become painfully aware of how I probably smell after running around after three kids in the woods all day. I run my fingers through my hair, which I'm sure is a complete mess.

"Asuma." Kurenai glares at me, rubbing her head, and looks away in distaste. I feel terrible. She's the newest jounin teacher, and the only woman out of all of us. I have to say I feel kind of sorry for her, thrown in with guys like us-- Me, and Kakashi, and Gai. I felt kind of like I should try to make her feel welcome. So I smack her with a door?

"What are you doing here?" I hear myself say. As if there were any question. As if it were any different from the reason I was here myself.

"I'm doing my paperwork for today," she explains, as if she had to sound it out. She must think I'm a real genius.

"Oh," is all I could think of by way of reply. I should apologize for hitting her with the door. I should ask if she was all right, but I couldn't think of how. I didn't want to insult her pride. How do these things work, anymore? How do you treat a woman who could most likely toss you in seconds flat?

I am trying to say something, anything. Suddenly her eyes dart off to the right and she ducks under my outstretched arm, inside the building. I watch as her go as she rushes off down the hall. I was too slow.

But the upside of being slow is, I'm also patient. I sit and read the newspaper and wait for Kurenai to come out. When she does, she looks surprised to see me. I fumble about for how to start. "Um, I'm sorry about the door."

Her hand goes to her head. "No, it was me."

Are you okay? I wonder. I look at her with concern. She seems embarrassed by this so I figure that the best thing to do is let it go. There is an awkward pause.

Her eyes dart back and forth. She has such strange eyes, deep and crimson-red, like the color of wine. She doesn't let anyone look into them, though. She has a habit of constantly shifting her gaze around her surroundings. This gives her the look of someone who fears attack from all sides. It reminds me somehow of a scared rabbit. It makes me feel sad.

Kurenai nods to me, business-like. "Well. See you," and with that she turns to go. But as she opens the door she is greeted by the steady rain, which has not let up.

"Hey, Kurenai," I say, without thinking, "wait..." I step outside ahead of her and hold the newspaper up to block the rain for us. She turns, surprised. Those eyes are looking up at me, wide, curious. I swallow hard, and forget what I was thinking about before. I have to search for it again. Oh yes-- "Come on, I'll walk you."

She purses her lips. She is going to say no, I know it. She doesn't seem like she particularly enjoys being social. I'm sure she has better things to do anyway. I feel dumb for even asking.

"No," she demurs. "I don't want you to go out of your way for me."

"Nah, it's on the way."

She doesn't miss a beat. "Asuma-- you don't know where I live."

I realize this and can't help laughing. It's so funny to me, more funny than it should be probably. How stupid I can get when I try to put too much effort into things. She stands there and looks up at me, and in a moment or two, the corner of her mouth quirks up into a little smirk, then a genuine smile spreads across her face for a split second.

And we both stand there and have a good chuckle at ourselves. Like idiots. Her laughter is light and sweet, and rings out like silver notes down the empty hallway. But it is over much, much too briefly. I decide in that moment that if she should let me be her friend, I will try to hear that sound again as often as I possibly can.

I hold the newspaper out for her and she falls in step with me. We set out across the fields, together. The rain patters down on the paper above our heads. "So... how do you like it so far? Teaching?"

She looks off into the distance, peeking out from under the paper. "It's good, I like it. I like my team." She doesn't follow this comment up with any extra elaboration. She's the perfect teacher for the Hyuuga girl, I think, and the Aburame boy as well. They're quiet ones, from what I gathered.

"Any troubles or anything?" I'm wondering how she handles the boy with the dog, that Kiba. He seems like a rough one.

She shakes her head. "No, not really. The kids work well together. They're getting to know each other."

I nod slowly. "That's good."

"What about your team?" she ventures. Her voice when she speaks is very soft.

"My kids all know each other already," I tell her. "The problem is getting them to quit squabbling and work together."

"Ah." She looks thoughtful. "Somehow I can't imagine either of those boys picking fights."

I chuckle as I lead us around a rather large mud puddle. "It's not the boys who're the problem."

"Oh!" She looks amused at this.

"Ino," I sigh, "Can be kind of... difficult." Understatement of the year. So far since becoming a genin, Ino has gone from kicking and screaming to constant nagging and then back to kicking and screaming again almost every other day. "She has to have her way, or else."

"She seems to be a very confident girl," Kurenai says.

"Seems to be. I'm not too sure about what's beyond that." I have a suspicion that a lot of Ino's attitude comes mainly from lack of self-confidence. But, this being really early in the year still, it's hard to say.

Kurenai looks thoughtful. We have reached the edge of the village, and overhangs from the shops help block the rain, which is a good thing. The newspaper is fairly soggy by now. We make our way through the streets, stepping over overflowing gutters. I grin and remember Ino's first tantrum. "You know, she wanted to be on your team."

At this Kurenai's face turns an amusing shade of pale. "What!"

"Ino," I tell her. "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."

Now Kurenai blushes. "What on earth?" It's pretty funny seeing her react this way. I wonder how she can act so surprised, though, I bet she hears stuff like that all the time.

I chuckle. "I know. But that's so Ino."

"What did you do?" she mused. "I mean, what do you say to that?"

I try to adjust the newspaper to cover her 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."

Red eyes turn up to me, astonished. "You can't just say things like that. I mean, what would you have done if she had?"

"She couldn't have."

"How do you know?" She gives me a disbelieving look.

"I just do." When she doesn't seem to understand, I explain. "Defense is my thing. And strategy. And attacking like a blind boar is something that seems to run in the Yamanaka family."

She smiles slowly. Slyly. I like the way it spreads across her face. "I see."

I nod. One perfectly shaped eyebrow raises and she says, "Defense, huh?"

I blink. Kurenai's expression has a look of competitive edge for just a second or two, or so I think. I may be mistaken. If I were more daring-- or less of a lazy ass-- I'd say something dashing, like: Care to try me?

She is watching me carefully. Maybe she is waiting for me to pick up on the bait. I feel a little awkward under her gaze. "What?"

"You don't jump at the chance to fight," Kurenai observes.

"No. I don't." I never do.

"It's... refreshing." She looks off into the distance, over the rooftops of the town. We turn a corner and head down a small back street. The residential buildings look pleasantly worn. Large streams dribble down from fire escapes above us, and I shift the newspaper to cover her better.

"Is it?" I ask. She nods her assent. "Thanks," I reply. I'm not sure what else to say. I wonder what she means by that. Refreshing as opposed to what? Or whom?

She looks up at me and her eyes are amused. "Here's my place."

"Hm? Oh, right." I look up to see that we have stopped in front of a white plaster building of apartments. The windows are small and dark, the paint is peeling on the wooden trim. Ivy trails up the front walls and the entrance is blocked by a wrought-iron gate. That's nice, it must keep salesmen and stuff out. It looks like a safe enough place, anyway.

Kurenai steps out from under my newspaper and crosses to the building's front door. The raindrops fall heavy on her damp hair. She takes out her keys but doesn't say anything else to me. I feel rude just staring at her while she unlocks her door, and I don't want her to feel like she has keep talking to me. "Well. See you," I give her a nod of my head and turn to go.

"A-Asuma," she calls out. I turn my head to see her smile just a little at me. "Thank you."

I'm glad that I got the chance to talk to her. She seems happy. It warms me, and I return her smile. "Anytime."

I fold the wet newspaper up and deposit it in a trash bin around the corner. I head home for the night whistling, in the falling rain.