push
Asuma

So it was only a few days later when I'm chilling in front of the Amaguri-Ama with the team and as luck would have it, I looked up to see a brown messenger bird flying overhead.

And they called another meeting. Lucky me.

The Chuunin Exams were announced, way earlier than schedule. It would seem that something weird was going on, what with this and the increase of enemy activity and stuff. For some reason, the other villages already knew about this, even though it's being hosted by us. So we had to change our schedule. We should have been more suspicious, but it didn't occur to anybody, I guess. I have no idea why.

Of course I nominated my team. Kakashi and Kurenai did as well. I wasn't surprised. Their kids are pretty skilled for academy graduates, and probably better than mine, from what I've heard. The genin this year are really something.

To get the kids ready in the short timeframe, we proctoring jounin were abruptly taken off of patrol duty and told to train the kids harder. I don't really think that'll help much. They need more time. But whatever. I guess I'll just have to have faith in them.

I think they can pull through if they stop whining. I mean, I can cajole and joke and use dirty tactics to trick them into working and sticking together as much as I want, but if they can't do it when I'm not around, they're dead meat.

I don't really like the thought of that. I only have one week. I'll push them as hard I can. The rest is up to them.

It was evening of the third day of our big push, and the sun was melting away slowly beyond the western horizon. Under a hazy, dusky orange sky, the rooftops of Konoha below reflected its fiery hues. The air was smoky and warm, the breeze gentle. Above, the swallows were hurrying about to feed their young before dark, twirling in the air above with their forked tails and white bellies. A dog was barking persistently somewhere and from a window nearby, someone was practicing the piano.

From the rooftop of the library, here, you could see for miles in any direction. I breathed out, letting my breath puff and watching it rise high into the air. The cement ledge I had been sitting on wasn't very forgiving to the posterior, so I eased myself to my feet.

Ino was seated near me, on an old crate. She was inspecting the damage done to her nails during the day's training, it seemed. She looked up at me when I moved, her sharp blue eyes alert to my movements. She's got good reflexes.

I sighed. She shrugged in response.

"Where are those two?" I asked her.

"I told them five, just like you said," she reported.

I looked at my watch. "It's almost quarter till six. What are they doing?"

Ino looked away, and gave a toss of her sleek hair. "I don't know," she said. Her voice dropped a note as she spoke. It was easy to see that she didn't like being the one left out.

Ino hates being left out of anything. This makes it tough because at this age, kids change more and more every day. Kids who have known each other since diapers suddenly find themselves divided as personalities change and gender differences become more and more apparent. It's tough, especially for the odd one out in a group. As Ino becomes more and more fascinated with the world of what she imagines being a teenage girl is, she is finding herself becoming more and more "the enemy" to her babyhood friends.

I exhaled, remembering the day's events and bickering outbursts. I get a distinct feeling that somehow as Shikamaru and Ino become more and more different from each other, the boy is feeling a distinct dislike of the difference. He pushes her away because of this. Ino's "girlish" behavior only escalates in response. It's a defense mechanism for extroverts, you know. If you feel rejection coming on because of something about you, play it up and push past it. Unfortunately, she's kind of making her own problem worse by doing so.

I sighed again and scratched my head under my bandanna. "Well, whatever it is, they better have a good excuse."

The girl stared right into the center of the sun, shielding her eyes with slender fingers. The warm glow bathed her skin in vermilion and rose. She stood that way in silent reflection for a while, unmoving. A moment or two passed. I pondered the jumble of rooftops and smoky chimneys. So many houses, so many people pushed together in one small space.

I heard Ino sigh, once. It seemed there was a lot of weight in that one little exhale.

I rubbed my chin. Life is really tough at twelve. I think girls have it much, much worse than boys. So many changes and so many issues. I've known Ino to mention things that I really didn't think a twelve-year-old should be worrying about. Things like diet pills, body piercing, where to buy the cutest "sexy" lingerie. Kids grew up fast in my day, too, but in a different way, I suppose. I think that my generation was too busy to bother about a lot of things.

I dropped my eyes to our feet, contemplating. Her feet were so small compared to mine that it was embarrassing for me. Her little toes were painted with sparkly light blue polish that's been flaked off around the edges. The baby blue reminded me of the flat clean hue of her eyes.

Ino's eyes are like the color of clean soap and bathwater. When I look at them, it's really hard to see the teenager bursting to get out of her own childhood, the part of her that sometimes drives me to my last nerve. When you look deep into Ino's eyes, she's just a baby, really. Just innocent and inexperienced and sometimes really clumsy. She wants attention and doesn't always know the best way of getting it, so she prods and pushes and pulls. She wants to be important. I guess we all kind of do.

Suddenly Ino dropped her hand and gave me a shrug and a pleasant, careless smile. "Come on, Asuma-sensei. Let's go on ahead. They'll catch up when they do."

I ran my fingers through my hair and sniffed. "Yeah, okay."

Her smile brightened when I accepted. I guess I had done the right thing? She grabbed my arm, happy. "Yeah," she repeated. "Let's go have fun without them." It sounded almost as if she were trying to convince herself.

"Whoa, watch that right arm," I cautioned against her tugging, taking my cigarette out of my mouth with my left hand at the twinge of pain. "Ow."

Ino stopped and blinked up at me. "Oh, right, your injury. Sorry, Sensei. I forgot."

I patted my arm where the sickle had sliced me the other night on patrol. "It's tender," I let her know, in a joking tone.

"Right," she said, and she gave me a little pat where my shirt above the upper forearm was mended with messy little stitches. She turned and jumped down from the roof, shimmied down the library building's drainpipe system. "Your sewing is terrible, by the way."

I snorted. "Yeah, I know. That's why I'm not a tailor." I followed after her, slipping to the street below.

"My mom could sew it for you next time," she offered, as we headed for the restaurant. "Or for that matter, I bet I could do a better job than that."

"It's cool," I told her. I have lots of shirts. "But thanks."

The outside of the Yakiniku Q restaurant smelled mouth-watering as usual. This is because just like any good barbeque place, there are big ducts over the tables to blow the smoke outside, and these fans inadvertently let everyone outside smell exactly what's happening inside. I think this is one of the key factors of the goodness of yakiniku. It's all about that aroma of charcoal and meat. Who couldn't love it? It's a primal instinct. Put together with beer and perhaps even some contact with the opposite sex, and then a good night's sleep, and man has created something which can satisy all of his urges in one really delicious sweep.

"Smells so good!" Ino announced, pushing the door open. The bells tied on the inside of the door announced our entry.

"Weren't you just lecturing us all about dieting at lunch?" I remarked, raising an eyebrow. Behind the counter, a couple of cooks looked out from the kitchen to welcome us.

"Yakiniku is good for your skin," she informed me.

"Oh really." I blinked briefly as my eyes adjusted to the darkness inside.

"Yeah. It's good for your collagen." she reported. "I read it in a magazine."

"I see." I didn't believe this for a second. I wondered why Ino did. Sounded like a load of bull to me. Maybe I should make my own magazine for girls. I'll call it, Quit Reading This Drivel And Go Train.

The air was quite heavy with the smell of dinner. Dinner I had been waiting for for almost an hour by now, and my stomach was definitely ready for a good meal. To tell the truth, I had been waiting for dinner all day, promising myself that if I could just get these kids through a day of hard work, then I'd eat and rest and the next day would be its own battle. It had been a rough mission to handle, but I had succeeded somehow or other and here was my reward. Good job, self. Let's eat and sleep.

Ino was already choosing a table. "Here. No wait, here. By the window. This one's good."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, absently, eyeing the painted scrolls hung on the wall. A few of the tables were occupied with customers already, but there were still plenty of open spots for us and no need to rush. I followed along at my own pace, hands in my pockets, as she flitted around between the tables and booths.

"Here!" she announced brightly, sitting herself down at her table of choice. She motioned to the seat opposite. "You sit here."

I sat as directed. It comes from being in the flower business, perhaps. Ino's got this habit of having to arrange everything to taste. Sometimes I get the feeling we're all part of her own personal decoration project. "Is this because of the smoke again?"

"Yeah," she agreed, pointing to the fan behind her which was sure to blow all of the table grill's smoke away from her. "It's gross to go home smelling like garlic and barbeque. What if a cute guy noticed!"

I snickered and pulled the ashtray over to tap off. "I bet he'd find it attractive. You should try it on 'Sasuke-kun'."

"Please." At this the blonde rolled her eyes. "I think you're just about the only man who would like a girl who smells like beef."

"Chouji would love it."

"Chouji doesn't count." Ino proclaimed. "He'd probably try to eat my arm anyway."

I chuckled. Ino drummed her fingers on the table. "Anyway. I look better in the lighting on this side, in the sun. You look better in the lighting on that side."

"In the dark corner, right?" I looked around my chair and took a long drag of my smoke. "To hide my face." In Ino's living flower arrangement, I wonder what kind of miserable flower I make. I have a feeling I'd get pushed to the back of the bouquet.

Ino snorted. "That's one positive effect, yeah." I grinned and inspected the menu. She looked up at me, played with her earrings. "I was just kidding, Sensei. You're not ugly."

"That's not what you said earlier this week," I reminded her, eyeing the beer list and avoiding her sharp azure gaze.

"I was mad at you," she let me know. "Because you snuck up on me in the bushes and scared me to pieces."

"That's what the idea of the training was," I replied. "You were supposed to figure out where I was coming from and set a trap. But instead, you--"

Ino sighed, petulant. "You know, I was trying to give you a compliment!"

I was starting to make her mad, I could see. With just the two of us here for now, the last thing I really needed was a stormy Ino on my hands. So I put down the menu and folded my hands, prepared to placate. "Sorry. Please go on."

"You look cooler in the shadows," she pronounced with an all knowing air. "I think your best lighting is lower-watt incandescent lamplight from above and to the right. Just like right now."

"Well, thank you," I said, cordially. "That's very useful information. I'll remember that for my next photo shoot."

Ino rolled her eyes. "You're so weird, Sensei."

"You're the one telling me which light I look best in, Ino Dear."

"Don't call me dear, you big dork," she laughed. Then she got up from the table. "I'm going to the bathroom."

I knocked the ash from my smoke into the waiting ashtray. Outside the window the sun had slipped beyond the horizon and the sky was blushing lavender and blue. Streetlights outside were flickering on one by one in the twilight air. The waiter came and I ordered a beer for me and Ino's usual iced tea. Other people in the restaurant were talking and laughing, just enough so that it wasn't too quiet or too loud. I felt quite at ease.

Ino came back to the table. "Sensei."

I looked up. "Huh."

She sat down and leaned forward, keeping her voice low. "Sensei, don't look now, but, those girls over there by the bathroom door. See them?"

"Yeah?" I grunted, glancing over her. There was a table of three women who looked around my age, possibly a little younger.

"Shh. They're checking you out." she whispered.

"What?" I said aloud. Was she crazy? "What makes you think that?"

"I heard them when I walked by," she reported, her voice low and eager. "They said they thought you were pretty cute and they were wondering if you were available."

Some giggles rose from the direction of said table. Indeed, all three of the young kunoichi seated there were eyeing us coyly. I exhaled slowly, letting a ribbon of smoke trickle upwards to the ceiling.

"Well?" Ino prodded. "Aren't you going to do anything?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Like what?"

"Go over and talk to them! Silly!" she hissed. "Hello! They're pretty hot and they're the right age for you."

Oh geez. My cigarette had winded down to the filter and I rubbed it out in the ashtray. "Nahh."

"Look, the one with the red hair is so pretty. And their clothes are really cute." Ino pressed. "Don't you think they're attractive? Sexy?"

I took one quick glance at the three giggly women. Lots of teased hair, lots of fishnet, and way too many accessories. "Not particularly."

"Come on, we need to get you a girlfriend, Asuma-sensei." Ino told me with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"I didn't realize I was in the market," I grinned, as our drinks were delivered to the table by the waiter.

"You're already old," she told me. "You're like almost forty."

"I'm twenty-seven!" I laughed out loud. Forty! My god, I need to start wearing sunscreen or something.

"Whatever. Don't you want to settle down?" she asked, emptying a packet of low-calorie sweetener into her iced tea and stirring it with a straw.

"Whoa, there. Settling down isn't exactly one of the perks of this kind of job," I pointed out, waving a hand. What, is she digging my grave? "And I don't plan on retiring from active duty at all."

"Ever?" Ino asked, her pale eyebrows knitting in a distressed sort of manner. "But you're so lazy. You seem like you're just dying to retire."

Now I couldn't help a little laugh. "Oh yeah?"

"You should have a store or something like my dad. I've heard you could just live off your family's money if you wanted to--"

This elicited a sharp look from me. "Ino."

"What?" she looked up at me, innocent of trampling on any nerves.

"I like working," I emphasized. "I like my job now. I like my life now. That's all."

"S-sorry," she murmured, seeming to understand that she had said a bit too much.

"It's cool," I shrugged, looking out the window at the village. I forget trangressions quickly, after all. The light ones are easily forgiven. I pulled out a new smoke from my pack.

Ino smiled mischeviously and sipped on her iced tea, her eyes dancing. "But seriously, Asuma-sensei. We should find you a nice girlfriend."

"Who is this 'we'?" I replied smoothly, taking out my lighter. Since when has this become such a big deal to my little bandage-bound pupil? I wonder where this is coming from. Has she seen some new movie or something that's gotten it into her head? I hope to god she isn't reading those awful romance novels my sisters used to read. "Why is this coming up all of a sudden?"

"It's important," she insisted, folding her hands on the table in a business-like manner. She gazed up at me with something akin to fondness. "You're a nice guy. You should be happy."

Chuckling, I lit up my new cigarette. "That's kind of you to say, Ino. But I am happy."

"I have a cousin on my father's side I could hook you up with," Ino offered. "She's 24 and just gorgeous."

I flinched. Pleasegodno. "She anything like you?"

"Yeah, we're a lot alike personality-wise."

Over the top of my beer I cracked her a teasing smile. "No, thanks."

"Hardy har," Ino said, sticking her tongue out at me. She emptied another packet of sweetener into her tea. "Well, at least tell me. What's your type?"

Whoa, she was really sweating me today. "I feel like I'm being interrogated, here. Have you been hanging around with the Special Forces team?" I regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe you've found a field you could really excel in."

"What color hair do you like?" Ino pressed. "Blonde? Black? Brunette? Redhead? Long hair? Short hair?"

"Ino..." I groaned. "Where are you going with this?"

"Just tell me," she pleaded. "I really, really want to kno-ow."

Oh, man. She was going for two syllables. I rolled my eyes, having reached the beginning of irritated. "Cut it out, Ino. That whiny thing doesn't work on me. I'm not your Daddy."

"So just tell me," she begged, her hands folded over her little chest. "I'm curious. I want to know what you think about girls, Asuma-sensei."

I took a big swig of beer to collect my thoughts. When I had put my glass back down on the table, I eyed her with careful scrutiny. Ino was leaning forward, her eyebrows were tilted slightly up in the center, expectant. Her hands over her heart, her blue eyes bright and snapping, somehow the girl seemed like her whole self at this moment was hanging on what kind of answer I would give her.

I sighed. Life is really tough at twelve. I think the average kid at this age is like a weathervane. Anything they pick up, be it from another person, a magazine, a movie, any little breeze of opinion can influence them so strongly. Chouji can be delicate this way, too. Shikamaru's much more grounded in his own views of himself and the world, but Ino of the three is the most easily spun by what she picks up from other people and sources.

It's hard for me usually to get my own input in there between all of the other things she gets her ideas from. I've often wondered why she doesn't listen to me or believe me when I tell her things. I wondered why it was now that she was seeking my opinion so ardently. I'm just her big dorky teacher. Since when have I gained so much credibility in her eyes? Have I finally reached a new level with my student where she cares what I think?

Ino was watching me closely, hopefully. Her sky blue eyes seemed to be pleading me for some direction.

I gave a small sigh of resignation. Those eyes are just too fragile for me to ignore.

I rubbed out my cigarette in the ashtray and folded my hands. "Okay, fine. I'll talk. Are you going to listen?"

Ino looked downright gleeful. "Yes! Tell me the truth. Tell me everything."

"Sure. You want to know about what kind of women I like?" I asked, calmly.

"Yes. What's your type? What kind of women do you go for?" She leaned forward as though ready to memorize my answer. "What kind of hair, what kind of eyes. How tall. Curvy or slim?"

"None of that stuff matters," I told her, point blank.

"SENSEI!" She wailed, hitting the table. Her outburst drew not a few stares from other tables. "Come on! You're lying!"

"I'm not," I insisted. "I'm being completely honest with you."

"You're not fair," Ino pouted, a strawberry-pink lip protruding from her mouth. "You have to have at least some preferences."

"I have preferences, all right," I assured her.

"Like what?" she asked, intent on me.

"I like women who aren't fussy. Low-maintenance." I looked at my empty fingers, thoughtfully. "I like women who are calm."

"That is so boring I'm about to fall asleep," she droned. She propped her head up with one arm on the table. "Anything else?"

"She has to have a sense of humor, and she has to have a pretty smile and smell nice. And I have to be able to talk to her about anything I want without her nagging me or getting bossy. She has to be someone who I can trust with anything."

Ino regarded me quietly, taking in what I was saying.

"And," I added, last of all, "If she likes yakiniku and beer and just relaxing and doing nothing at all, it's a definite plus."

She blinked and made a face at me. "Sensei, you're weird."

I snickered. "Yeah. I know."

"You have no physical preferences at all?" she pressed. "All men have some. Come on. My dad says--"

I cut her off before she could break any of her poor father's intimacies. "I don't really mind about hair color or length, but if it's clean and shiny, and smells nice, I might notice." Haha. Might being the operative word here. My apologizes, Ino. Your teacher has a head like a boulder and about half as quick.

"Perfume? What kind do guys like?" The girl sounded like she was checking items off on a mental list.

"Don't like it." I admitted. "Gives me a headache."

"What about boobs?" she asked, making me snort some of the beer I was trying to drink right up my nose.

"Wha?" I choked. Yes, please?

Oblivious to the current painful fizzing in my sinuses, Ino pressed on. "No, stupid, like how big? Most guys like big ones, right? But I heard some guys like smaller ones." The arch of her eyebrows and the urgent gleam in her eyes suggested that this was probably what she really wanted to know about.

"Ino..." I sighed uncomfortably as I wiped my nose with a napkin. "I don't think that's such a big deal to me. If you really like someone, you like their body, too."

My student regarded me with half-lidded eyes, clearly unconvinced. The look on her face plainly read, oh, yeah, right.

I rolled my eyes and regrouped, trying to explain what I meant. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly gifted with words. "It's not like a person is a patchwork quilt or a paper doll. You don't pick and choose which features you like and put them all together. Things don't really work that way." I mean, nice ones are nice. Very nice. But the most amazing breasts in the world are nothing if they're on someone you can't stand, you know?

She looked disappointed at this. Maybe what I was telling her was hard to understand, or didn't match up with information she had collected previously from other sources. "You just don't want to be honest with me because you think I'm just a kid," she accused me.

I sighed and covered my eyes with my fingertips. I guess this was a taste of what it was like to have a daughter, huh? I couldn't say I envied Ino's father much. This was tough work. "No, I'm being honest with you because you're not going to be a kid much longer."

"What?" she asked, completely lost.

I dropped my hands. "I just think," I began, choosing my words cautiously, "that you should know that there are guys in existence who are more interested in your development up here." I pointed to my head. Okay, okay, maybe it would take them some time to get to that point, like around the age at which those hormones start to burn off and leave a little maturity behind in their wake. I had my bad stages as well. But there was no reason for girls to go around worrying about pleasing guys so much, was there? Boys are idiots, after all. Hell, I'm still an idiot.

She wrinkled her nose. "Geez. That sounds really unromantic." I guessed so. Culture is to blame for that one. Who's ever read a fairy tale in which the sensitive and thoughtful prince climbs to the tower to awaken the intelligent and assertive princess with a kiss? My mom, forever the tomboy even at middle age, tried to add things to the stories sometimes to make them a bit more palatable for a young kid's mind. But hell, I could read what was on the pages. Ino can, too.

"What about your parents? Didn't your dad fall for your mom because she was beautiful and smart?" I asked her, leaning my elbow on the table and sipping on my beer.

Ino nodded. "He always says that, yeah."

I knew this, I'd heard the story a million times from him. I think everyone in Konoha has. Ino's father and mother's engagement had been a big deal back in the day when it was becoming more popular for marriages not to be arranged ones. It had been a huge wedding, too. And if you're ever in a bar around the same time as Yamanaka Inoichi when he's had even a little bit to drink, he's sure to tell you all about it. Whether you want to hear it or not.

"You have the looks and the brains, Ino. Looks kind of come naturally and there's not much you can do about it." Haha, just look at your old teacher, here.

Then I leaned forward, trying to make her see that this was something I thought was key. "But brains need sharpening. You've got a really quick wit. Use it. I think guys will go nuts for you someday."

The girl gazed up at me, partially incredulous and partially excited. "Really?"

"Sure. Especially if you train hard," I added.

Now she scowled at me. "You are so transparent it's not even funny."

I rewarded her with my sweetest smile. "The exam is in four days. There'll be a lot of boys there to impress." BRAINSTORM, ASUMA! I awarded myself five points in my head. That was awesome.

Ino rolled her eyes, conversation time with boring old sensei over and done. "Let's go play darts!"

"Fine," I agreed. I picked my cigarette back up and followed her over to the dartboard area. "Funny, you didn't seem so interested during target practice today."

The blonde shook her head. "I told you! That was because--"

Without warning, at this moment the door bells jingled and in tumbled Chouji and Shikamaru. The boys fell inside the door, looking quite bedraggled. Chouji's face was white as a sheet, his white scarf smeared with mud. Shikamaru's ponytail was mussed, hanging to the side, and his nose was bleeding.

"Boys," I started, surprised at their condition. Other people in the restaurant looked up, startled.

"Wha. Ha. Hah," Chouji panted, gasping for air, his hands covering his head. "Safe! Oh god. That was close."

Shikamaru groaned and squatted on the ground, patting his chest as if checking for holes. "Man, this Chuunin Exam crap is getting stupider and stupider every day. I should have been a farmer or something!"

"Chouji! Shikamaru!" Ino shrieked. She ran to her teammates and knelt down between them. "Oh my god. What happened to your nose?"

"Don't touch it, stupid!" Shikamaru snapped. "What, are you a total moron? That hurts."

Ino backed off. First her face looked hurt, then her lips opened as if she were trying to think of what to shoot back at him in retaliation. I put my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to silently ask her to let it go. The boy's words were unnecessary, but now was not the best time to let him know it. I could feel a gathering number of people watching us, and the waiter and cook's wary eyes on my back. "Come on."

I herded them out the restaurant's back entrance, where we had a little privacy in the alley. "You guys get roughed up by someone?" I asked, trying to gently get a look at Shikamaru's nose.

"Who?" Ino pressed. "Why?"

Chouji sniffed and hugged his knees, as though he wanted to disappear. "I didn't know them," Shikamaru said, allowing me to look at his injury. "Not like I took down their names and phone numbers."

Chouji looked from side to side as though still afraid. "They weren't from Konoha. I think they were Hidden Grass. They said they came for the Chuunin Exam."

Ah. I'd thought as much. This kind of thing happens often at the beginning of the Chuunin Exams.

I guess it's only natural when you have shinobi who are essentially enemies coming together in one town to fight against each other. People want to see what the others have got. They want to show off their skills and intimidate the opposition. Some just want to thin out the competition ahead of time. Ninja don't visit each other's villages in a non-combat agenda often, after all. Any stress or intimidation they feel can easily become aimed at the host village. And who better to take it out on than the kids? Genin make easy targets, immature fish in a barrel. Those shiny new head protectors are a dead giveaway. And apparently even kids as benign as Chouji and Shikamaru were eligible game.

"They started a fight and we ran like hell as soon as we could." Shikamaru grumped, jerking away from my inspection and tipping his head back. Blood was dribbling down his chin. "I should have been a librarian."

Ino took command, I guess because I didn't. "Pinch your nose and bend your head forward, it'll help the blood clot."

I grabbed my handkerchief out of my vest pocket and covered Shikamaru's nose with it. "She's right. Let's get some ice on that. Ino," I began, looking over to the blonde with a beseeching look, "Go inside and get a bag of ice for me?"

Ino nodded to me and rushed off dutifully. And then it was just us guys alone in the alley.

"You okay, Chouji?" I eyed him carefully over my shoulder while attending to the leaking nose.

He shook his head slowly. "I'm fine. Sh-Shikamaru pushed me out of the way." I saw him blink his brown eyes a few times, as though he might be trying to hold back tears. Poor kid. I could see he was pretty shaken. Equal parts gratitude and guilt were stirring in his eyes.

"Asuma-sensei." he said, very quietly. "I'm not so sure about this Chuunin Exam anymore."

Shikamaru was silent, clutching the rag to his nose. He regarded his friend without spouting his usual sardonic commentary for once. Perhaps it was because his nose was busy spouting for him.

I looked from one boy to the other, but I stayed back. It wasn't my place.

I always hang back when it isn't my place. It's not always a good quality, but that's just the way I am. I don't move unless I need to. I know that I'm no superhero. The world works without me. Unless there's something I've got to handle or else, it's not my right to press my own will upon the situation. I'm not special, and I'm no higher than any of the other people around me. I don't care much for people who think they are, either.

As their teacher, I was there to encourage and advise if they asked for it. But when it came to decisions and motivation, when it came to ready or not... they'd have to work this one out on their own. I don't want to push them into anything they aren't ready for. If these kids ever want to be whole adults, they've got to find their own pace. They have to be able to experience challenge, fear, progress, and pain, and they have to choose for themselves what must be done and what they are willing to do. Coming from a childhood in which those sorts of things were decided for me, that's what I want to give my kids most. Equilibrium. Because it took me much, much too long to find my own.

Chouji's eyes were downcast, his thick lips pressed into a tense line. "The other people we keep seeing who are here for the exam are really strong, and a lot older than us. I think we're too weak," he mumbled. "We're not ready yet. And..." Here his voice trailed off into a whisper. "What if Ino had been with us? She might have got hurt, too. I just--"

"That's bull," Ino interrupted, having returned to the scene with a bag of ice big enough to ice at least ten noses. She thrust the bag of ice at Shikamaru, then parked her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed indignation. "Don't give me that, Chouji. If you want to wuss out, do it on your own name, don't blame it on me."

Chouji started, apparently not having meant for the blonde to hear his words. "Ino..."

Ino folded her arms and looked from Chouji to Shikamaru. "Are we doing this or not?"

Chouji's amber gaze dropped to his sandals, his thick lashes masking his eyes. The boy's grubby fingers began to fumble with the hem of his scarf, pulling at the fuzz. "I don't know. I just. Shikamaru got hurt. I don't want anybody to get hurt."

Shikamaru's brow knit in a scowl. He pushed my hand away and held the rag for himself.

"Yeah, we're weak now." Ino's eyes were snapping, icy bright as she regarded the two boys. "But how in the hell are we supposed to get stronger otherwise? Is that what you've been spending all those hours training with your dad every day for, Chouji? To back out now?"

Chouji looked to Shikamaru. Shikamaru looked to me. Then the dark-haired boy rolled his eyes as though thoroughly disgusted. "God dammit. I'm gonna regret saying this later. But Ino's right." This was indeed a bold statement on the boy's part, but it was weakened a bit by his next words, which were, "Shit. Should have gone into real estate."

Chouji nodded, with a sigh. "I know." I wasn't sure, but I think he meant this in reply to Shikamaru's statement that Ino was right, not about the real estate.

"Listen." Ino commanded, her leadership qualities on display. "We have five days left."

"Four, actually," I corrected her.

"We have four days left," Ino restated. She folded her arms, and for a moment I wondered if she had indeed been spending time with Special Forces. She was making a really convincing Ibiki face right about now. "Let's get more serious."

Chouji looked to me for my opinion. I shrugged and gave a nod of agreement. "You guys could give a little more effort out there." In any case, maybe an actual brush with real-life fighting will serve to shake them up a little. This isn't a game, and it isn't anything clean and safe. But it's hard for a kid who hasn't really lived that life yet to understand it.

That's tough for me to really deal with, too. They're already twelve years old. Their world is much, much more safe and sheltered than mine was at their age. I was a genin at so much younger than them. Sure, it's only three years, but there's a big difference between nine and twelve, when you think about it. And there's a big difference in what we did after we got those head protectors, too. They found lost cats in the woods. I found lost bodies in the trenches.

"How about this," I suggested, at my most amiable. "You guys give me four days of training. If you still feel unsure after that four days, then you tell me, and I'll have your entry in the examination canceled."

Shikamaru eyed me suspiciously. "I thought it was once entered, no going back on it. Didn't you have to swear on your name or something like that?"

"Can you really do that?" Chouji wondered.

"Sure." I lied. "It'll be no problem."

Okay, so I tricked them into it. Frown on my methods if you will. But trickery is part of raising kids, no getting past it.

A kid rides a bike with training wheels on it for too long, and what does the father do? He sneaks into the shed at night with a wrench and adjusts those training wheels so that they don't touch the ground quite all the way. And he does it a little more each week, until the kid can ride her bike by herself. Another kid won't get in the swimming pool without floaties on his arms, and Dad's job is to surreptiously deflate those floaties little by little each time until Junior doesn't need them anymore.

Such is my job: Chief Covert Adjuster of Safety Devices. We don't toss kids right into the water of combat like monkeys in today's world. Too many mental cases running about trying to get stronger by killing off their families for us to use those kinds of methods anymore. No, now we deflate their floating arm accessories and push them forward gradually until they can swim for themselves. We remove that security blanket little by little by little. That's what I do, that's what I exist in these kids' lives for. I'm not sure what else I really have to offer them, to be perfectly honest with you.

I think they'll thank me for my tricks later. They'll be mad, yeah, but they'll thank me in the long run. Then I'll reward them with a big dinner and a big dessert, and hopefully all will be forgiven. I have faith in them. I know they won't let me down. And if they do, we'll work through it somehow. There's not much more to it that that.

So four more days is all that's standing between the kids and the test. I think the best I'm hoping for is that they'll see what it's really like out there and feel the realities of being in danger, and hopefully it will give them a bit of perspective on our everyday activities. I don't plan on sheltering them or anything. The experience should be good, provided they all survive and make it through in one piece.

Is that too much to hope for? I look around at the three of them and try to tell myself they'll be fine. But there are a lot of unknowns involved in the equation, here. I feel just a hint of uneasy in the back of my head.

We've been together for a few months now, and it's mostly them that I spend my days with. We've spent a lot of our time building teamwork. Now I guessed it was time to build trust. And not just between these three, but between them and me, too. I found myself sincerely looking forward to being closer to them. Could it be I'm getting attached to them?

"Hold still!"

"Let me see it. Has the blood stopped?"

"Don't touch!"

"Chouji, you'd better soak this with some soap and water..."

"That hurts, dammit!"

Ino tried to wipe the dried mud from Chouji's clothes. Chouji was having a look at Shikamaru's messy nose. Shikamaru was protesting because of the pain, spitting and hissing like a wet fussy cat. I stood back and just watched as they carried on.

Shikamaru and his nasal drone, his sour-grapes attitude. Chouji and that sensitivity that surfaces when I least expect it. Ino and her laughing eyes as she cuts right to the heart of the matter. The feeling when we're togther is different now than it was when we first met. It's starting to feel warm, to feel pleasant and familiar around the edges. Could it be I'm getting attached to these three really troublesome, bratty, patience-eroding people? These three who sometimes remind me way too much of myself when I was their age?

I huffed and took a drag of smoke, sending it up into the air in little round puffs.

Yeah, maybe I am.