I will become ''Shinobi''!
(俺が忍者になる!)
Iruka Umino was an envious teacher. Despite how troublesome or foolish a student may be, Umino kept this "all children are disingenuous" form of thought process.
"Nothing is more difficult than the way of Shinobi," he would always say.
The Monument was defiled, and there was no mercy. A boy who was taught the dangerous path of Shinobi was said to know right from wrong, have a sharp mind, a perceptive of reality. Naruto knew what it was doing; that was why Iruka dragged Naruto by his collar to make sure that the graffiti was cleaned off.
"You're not going anywhere until you clean it all off." Iruka folded his arms over his chest, looking up; better than down, since he was standing on a scaffold next to the tallest mountain of Konoha. Above him was the Monument and Naruto.
"Those people etched in the mountain," the chunin continued, "risked their lives for the village, people and all. Do you think it's right to put graffiti on them?" Not only that, Iruka had thought as to why Naruto, since he was such a rascal, wouldn't focus his graffiti elsewhere in the village?
"What message are you trying to send here?" He scowled, but there was a tint of curiosity. Brush in hand, Naruto grumbled as he scrubbed the Third's giant nose back and forth with soap and water, over and over. His pace was slow, only due to him growing weary from boredom and annoyed by Iruka's goading. He's heard it all before, over and over, and it was when his heart exploded. He stopped the brush and threw it in the bucket.
Iruka heard a loud splash of water. "HEY! You're not done!"
"Damn right!" boomed Naruto, who turned his back at the faces and looked down at his teacher from the top level scaffold. "All I did was gave them glasses because this village needs to see! My goal!"
"This again?" Iruka's mouth shriveled, holding his words into his thoughts. He knew that along with Naruto's ability to magnetize the village's attention, the boy was ordinary; a boy that wanted to grow up into something. However, the doubts tearing at him inside were more or less equitable. Instructor Iruka Umino had trouble in believing Naruto, not while the boy's effort to work towards his goal was minuscule.
His grades were horrible; in retrospect, it's like he had nothing for him, or prided himself on being terrible. Naruto Uzumaki, the boy born on Tenko, was terrible with Kanji. His brush strokes were crooked and he wouldn't hone his dexterity; that affected his shuriken drills as well. Being a reckless and rush type, he wouldn't think of the disciplines of Heaven and Earth; lectures on metabolism and mental stress in connection to the body's Chakra ducts would make his head explode. he wouldn't make a good leader in a squad at all. Despite that, Naruto seemed to like hearing about history and mythical stories of folklore heroes. His memory was bad, but he could recall a few pieces of an account or two. Many conjectures on Naruto were negative, but Iruka couldn't help but see potential. Every being had at least one good trait.
Naruto, I know you want the village to pay attention to you by becoming a shinobi, but I need you to do well. Those were Iruka's kind thoughts after he sent Naruto home. He told the boy to get some rest as the next day was special. When Naruto went home, he looked into the bag that Iruka gave him. It was something the chunin retrieved, having walked away while Naruto wasn't looking: two cups of miso ramen. Naruto could sleep a little less upset.
"Everyone, we have a guest!"
The next day at the Academy, or Gaki-Shiro, the students were gathered in the indoor main class. It's akin to a small theater with an array of wedged desks, stretching up and back from the end of the room's far rear wall. Iruka and Mizuki stood at the front of the class. Standing in between them looked to be another teacher; that was the kids' first impression. The man looked young and wore a green flak jacket like the other chunin. He didn't have a headband, but the steel plating etched with the village's symbol was instead pinned to a skull cap. Aside from youthful features, he looked like he didn't get much sleep. It was dark and puffy under his eyes, which made him look a bit serious.
"Good morning, children," the man spoke, his voice low from a morning rasp, like mucus sticking to his cords. "Future of Konoha, genin who has trained under many moons. I am Hayate Gekko (月光 颶)."
In his seat, Naruto frowned, thinking, "This guy - is he even fit to teach today?"