"Yesss," Sakura moans. "Finally. A bed." She slings her backpack to the ground and flops down on one of the bottom bunks. She's the first one here; the other four beds are neatly made and nothing seems out of place, which is weird in a living space that is supposed to be shared with four other boys. She can feel the springs inside the cheap mattress under her, but Sakura doesn't mind. After five days of sleeping on the cold hard ground, she can finally sleep in a real bed with sheets. If that moron only knew what she was going through for his sake. She wishes Naruto a painful, gruesome death for the 213th time before turning her attention back to her bed. The sheets are certainly not silk or 100% cotton, but they're better than the thin blanket that she's wrapped herself in for the past few days. There are a few suspect spots on the linen but hey, she isn't about to complain.
And after everything's that's happened today, the bed feels so, so inviting. The tent is cool and dim and just the right temperature for a quick nap on a sweltering summer day.
She still has some time before everyone else showed up. A few minutes of rest wouldn't hurt.
She promptly falls asleep.
When she wakes up, it takes her a while to adjust to the sudden brightness of her surroundings. Something feels a little...off. Wherever she is, it's definitely not in her new bunk. It almost feels as if she is suspended mid-air-which, she discovers, is the case.
What the fuck is going on?
"The first lesson, children," a baritone voice drawls from somewhere below her, "is to never to let your guard down."
The ropes binding her tighten, and Sakura feels herself steadily rising up, up, up in the air.
"What the HELL?" She screams at the man. "Are you fucking INSANE?! LET ME DOWN RIGHT NOW YOU BASTARD!" For good measure, she adds a few more colorful words that would have made Kushina oba-san proud.
"The second lesson," the man continues as if he didn't hear her outburst, "is to respect your elders. Especially your commanding officer." He secures the ropes in his hand connecting to the elaborate pulley system hooked up to Sakura and turns to face the four boys standing dutifully in line. Sakura, still snarling, cranes her head to get a glimpse of her newest enemy.
...He has no face.
Well no, that isn't completely true, but the shock of white hair, the headband and the mask over his mouth effectively hides most of his facial features. The only thing that really stands out on his monochromatic, fabric-swathed face is his right eye, half-lidded with what looks like a mixture of apathy and contempt.
The man's eye swivels over to the four recruits that still have both feet planted firmly on their ground.
"So, introductions," he says cheerfully, as if he hasn't just trussed up one of his subordinates and left her hanging in midair. "You first, Spiky. Just your first names, if you will. I don't care for Clan politics. Last names mean nothing around here."
The boy with the spiky ponytail and the awful posture scowls but answers, "Shikamaru." He stuffs his hands back into his pockets. The man nods, apparently satisfied, and shifts his gaze towards the next boy.
"C-chouji," the fat kid from before stammers.
"Sai," the next boy says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
The last one bares his teeth and growls at the man in an oddly canine display of alpha dominance. The puppy at his feet copies his master.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man says mildly. The boy replies with a rude expletive and his dog yips in agreement. The man tsks.
"Maa, the young ones have no respect for their elders these days," the man sighs, and suddenly he's holding the puppy in his hands, one hand pointing a kunai to its throat.
"Akamaru!" The boy cries. "You bastard! Let go of him!"
"Believe me, kid, I'm a dog person too, so this is killing me inside," the man tells the boy. "I'll let him go when you tell me the magic word. I'll give you a hint: it begins with a P and ends with -lease."
The boy snarls. "Let GO of him, you bastard!" he repeats.
"Hmm?" The man says, tilting his head. "I'm getting old, you see, and my hearing's not as good as it used to be. What did you say?"
"Fuck you, asshole," The boy snarls. "Kaa-san will have your balls served on a plate if you hurt Akamaru, and you don't want the Inuzuka Clan Head after you, Hatake."
The air suddenly turns colder.
"I said, no Clan politics in my squad," the man says icily. "What happens inside my squad stays inside my squad. This place is under my jurisdiction. You can tell your mother all you want, but even the Clan Heads can't do anything about it."
Akamaru whines. The man, still holding Akamaru firmly by the scruff of his neck, sighs again.
"Just say the P-word, brat. It's really not that hard."
The boy growls and postures a little more before finally muttering a short, "please."
The man lets go of the puppy and Akamaru bounds into his owner's outstretched arms.
"Name?"
"...Kiba," the boy grumbles.
"Now," the man says, slowly turning his head to look up at the flailing figure above him. "Who do we have here?"
"LET ME DOWN, YOU ONE-EYED BASTARD!" Sakura shrieks.
"Now, now," the man admonishes. "Calling this poor old man names from the very beginning? You break my heart."
Sakura unleashes another volley of expletives and hopes that his heart breaks a second time. She feels a little sorry for calling Bear and Kotetsu names. They have nothing on this guy-this man is truly an asshole among assholes.
She can't wait to get back at him.
"Quite the ill-mannered lot I have this time around," the man muses to himself. It was probably payback for flunking the last batch of idiots so quickly.
"It's probably karma, taichou," he thinks he hears the boy named Shikamaru mutter, but it can't be him, because the boy in question is already fast asleep against a nearby tree.
Hmm. Probably his subconscious telling him the obvious, as usual.
The man takes another look at the five boys placed under his care.
The three in front of him are obviously Clan brats: a Nara, an Akimichi and an Inuzuka. The pink-haired freak currently thrashing around in his trap looks civilian-born, most likely from one of the outlier villages near the border. Uzushio, perhaps?
The one called Sai is a bit of an outlier, but he's reasonably certain of the boy's heritage.
Really, all he wants to do is flunk this team of misfits and curl up in his tent with a cup of hot barley tea and Sensei's newest book, like he's done in the past. Unfortunately, his hands are somewhat tied regarding the Clan affiliated brats or the bastard. Damn the higher-ups for making him take care of their charges.
But no one had said anything about the civilian-born.
Hmm.
The smile that stretches across his face crinkles the corner of his visible eye.
He claps his hands and everyone, including the pink thing, turns their attention on him.
"You can call me Hatake-taichou," the man says. "I will be responsible for your training from now on. At the moment, all I can say is," he crinkles his eye again. "I hate you all."
AN [07/02/18]: I'm not happy with this chapter at all, so I'll probably come back and rewrite this when I have some time later this week.