.
Chapter 5
It wasn't like I was going to write a test to become a teacher and bam, save my students from future godzillas by having future visions. If anything, that is the product of a disappointing lack of imagination. The offer was on the table.
Did I want to become one? If not, there were plenty others who'd be willing to jump in the seat. True, I was apprehensive, hesitation was my middle name, but I'd be a fool to let the opportunity slip through my clumsy fingers without giving it a second thought.
So here I was, settling my things in a neat little pile in the shelf that I'd been assigned to in the staff hall. I shot the other inmates of the room what I am pretty sure was a constipated smile, and they didn't bat an eyelash, going about their own business.
Some of them didn't seem to be morning people, especially when it came to teaching little brats with no sense of propriety whatsoever – I should know, I spent half of my time around these buggers for no reason at all in the orphanage – and there was one guy sitting in the corner and scowling at his tremendous stack of answer papers, going through them with such a vengeance that I genuinely thought that the pen in his hand was the sword of Gryffindor. There was a brief flash of crimson on white, and I saw round circles of red and slashes on paper, which was enough to make me wince.
Iruka came into the room, and there was an instantaneous change. Backs straightened, and all chatter ceased. I was midway stuffing my mouth with a dumpling, and I couldn't simply swallow everything down when he directed that keen gaze at me.
"Umph-?" I offered, and resisted the urge to choke when the force of the room's attention thwacked me on my back.
Iruka's popularity wasn't surprising, and his respect among the chunin was infamous, which must've had something to do with the fact that he was the one who gave the okay for their pay checks in the end.
"How are you doing, Ton-san?"
My facial muscles weren't working. Mind screaming 'abort, abort' like some rhythmic doomsday alarm, my lips curved into one painful smile, which made Iruka wince.
"She is our new trainee, so let's all take care of her for the next semester." His voice was light and pleasant, with an undercurrent of reassurance.
Murmurs filled the room.
"Why don't you introduce yourself?"
A guy lazily slouching on one of the seats called out. His spiky hair and lidded eyes pretty much confirmed where he came from.
"Well, my name is Ton, uh." I didn't really know what to say when obviously disinterested and bored eyes beheld me.
"I hope you'll lead me through the year. Not promising to be the best, heh, but I'll do what I can."
I trailed off as someone scoffed. I coughed, picking up my satchel.
"Iruka!"
A red head poked through the door way, breaking the decidedly awkward atmosphere. The low, monotonous drone of voices resumed, and one or two rare species even gave me a welcoming smile. The hostile environment was natural, I guessed.
"Come on, Ton-san."
I hastily dragged my feet through the room, moving after Iruka.
"You'll spend your morning in Izanami's class." He murmured as I came close, and my gaze snapped to the sharp-looking woman standing in front of me. She had an absentminded, faraway look on her face, and she dipped her head briefly when she saw me. I returned the gesture, mind bursting with numerous questions. I supposed I could wait for them.
Getting into a post at the Academy wasn't as simple as taking a test and filling a position. The test that I had taken was merely for the purpose of aptitude, testing my knowledge on general situations and topics.
I wasn't a teacher, no, not yet. They asked me. I don't know what in the nine hells I'd been thinking, for my answer was a yes. And then that was that. I became a trainee under Iruka's 'capable hands', as I had been told by the goddamn Hokage.
Believe me; I wasn't very thrilled when Iruka had popped up at my doorstep one fine morning, dragging me off to the Hokage tower. And the chūnin was every inch the right-hand-man, and it was amusing to see the parallels of how the Hokage interacted with Iruka and Naruto.
"Good-morning. I hope you are refreshed."
Oh, how dandy the old man had looked, hat perched nimbly on top of his wizened little head and pipe in his mouth, the same mouth that would determine my fate if he came to realize that I was an alien in his cozy village.
'Good-effin-morning', I had echoed in my head, before making my way to the desk and bowing till my stomach folded over itself like a sandwich. Iruka raised an eyebrow at my acrobatics, which meant he was conveying that it was overkill on my part.
"I hope you know that it is an honour to be drawn into our ranks."
I remember bristling, for I did not like what he was implying. What ranks?
"I am sure Iruka must've informed you about the teaching Academy."
Well, he had done nothing of the sort. I had contemplated him with a quelling glance.
"I would like more information on it, if you don't mind."
And then he had proceeded to explain more about the topic, and briskly elucidated that it was nothing to worry about when he saw the blood draining from my face as rapidly as pee from a torn diaper. From what I gathered, it was an Academy specially catered towards the training of future teachers, but it was currently out of order due to the 'lack of staff', as I was told.
Hah. To think that I regarded it as a torture chamber of some sort. Sometimes my own mind defies my expectations.
And the rest of the conversation pretty much meant downhill. Translation – I was robotic, well, most of the time, and Iruka had to save my ass.
When he hauled us out of there, I immediately went to have some Sake, because ohmylord I had met the Hokage.
"Well, that was an embarrassment." Iruka had glanced at me, exasperated.
Speaking of embarrassment, I went into Izanami's class to have a whole damn bucket of water crashing down on my head. It made things – including my cotton top – transparent, and I squeaked like an offended, drenched mouse, glowering mercilessly at the class, who broke into hysteria.
The lady looked at me apologetically, straightening her knobbly glasses.
Sometimes, I wonder why I wasn't thrown into the Harry Potter Land, or even reincarnated as Voldemort, for heaven's sake. I could do well without a bloody nose; anything but dripping wet in front of a bunch of children who I was supposed to cater to in the next semester or so.
There was nothing more to be said.
Winters in Konoha were bloody cold in the night, though mild at day. I wrapped my cloak tightly around myself, heading for the Academy gates. It was a nice, controlled pattern. Save for the Uchiha fiasco, and by that I mean poor Itachi being forced to subjugate to an evil overload by the name Danzō and kill an entire line of Uchiha except for his little bro, nothing eventful had happened.
Two years had passed by since the time I was recruited by my own will. My first year was spend miserably as a trainee, and Sasaki had me prepping for whatever tests Iruka set up for me. I was made to observe and catalogue mostly everything related to Konoha's culture, the Founding and so on, my brain soaking up whatever it could. The other trainees from the orphanage met up with me whenever we could at the local barbecue, Yakiniku-Q, to bemoan the rigmarole that we were put through.
Hell, I don't remember having this much fun when I was back home. Thoughts of my sis stung, and I found it easier to bury thoughts more than I probably should.
I got my first batch a year ago, and they were soon-to-be genin; fourth years who'd be assigned in teams of three to a sensei. I presume most of them were wearing shiny forehead protectors and chilling in D-Ranks while I climbed the small snow hill to the Academy's entrance.
It was awkward in the beginning, to say the least. But I'd struck a companionship with them by the end of the year, and dare I say it, I felt sorry to see them go. There were a few Uchiha kids in my batch, and when they walked through the class door on the last day, a bell had ominously clanged, signalling an end. They didn't come back the next day. I still remember their names.
There is no explanation why I had attended the mass funeral, probably out of guilt. I didn't do anything, and there was nothing that I could do, as far as I knew, because the Hokage had a hand in this. I knew that.
Teaching kids is a precious experience.
You see how they grow in a short time. Their repertoire of knowledge increases as you teach them, like feisty saplings, like a determined acorn. The progress makes you stop in your tracks and be dumbfounded, because they are adapting your ideals and knowledge and creating something wholesome.
Somehow, I became too involved. I suppose that is where things got dangerous.
I was ready to face my second batch today, and Iruka had provided the background files. I was up all night going through them.
What I could do, I would do it right.
Okay, the kids were absolute devils at times. They irritated me. Always running about with no sense of dignity, wailing at the slightest of disruptions – I couldn't even drop an accusation against one of them for the fear that they might burst into tears, which was a horrifying prospect.
The unmitigated truth was that they all resented me, which was fine by me. A scowl was all it took for them to sit on their rumps. I had been a substitute once for the newly admitted first years, and I wasn't at all a pleasant experience. Fourth years were awesome.
The rule of thumb that all students were supposed to follow – out of, oh, maybe moral obligation? – was silence whenever a goddamn teacher walked through the doors with a constipated look on their face, which I am sure I must've worn when I walked in.
Of course, these kids had no sense of propriety whatsoever, and were creating quite the pandemonium in the first five minutes of what was possibly my second teaching year – which, by the way, looked more like a joke with each passing second.
"Yano, you little shit!"
"Are you scared, Kiba? Ohoho, whatever are you gonna do?"
"Can you all shut up, for a second?"
I stared resolutely at the wall, even as the silence died down and the number of curious looks directed in my way increased. The peak of the silence was unsurprisingly ruined by a fart, which I presume must have come from someone seated the front row, and quite close to my desk at that, for my senses were overloaded.
There was a volley of giggles and raucous laughter, after which the class mercifully settled down.
"So," I began, slapping my hands on the desk, before massaging the nape of my neck. Was I supposed to give an introduction? I hated introductions.
"I suppose this is the second year batch."
"You suppose?" A shrill, high pitched feminine voice echoed, and the fit of giggles began all over again.
"I suppose you must've repeated a year, Ami." I said, not missing a beat and faintly regretting it, because it caused some sniggers and a childish equivalent of a glare to come from the offender. And it was true, though it was not the fault of the girl, for civilian admissions were tough, for one. It was the reason why only the smartest were picked out, including Haruno Sakura, whose lineage unsurprisingly consisted of traders and mercenaries.
"I am going to be teaching you guys theoretical practices for the year, and it includes touchy topics, which, by the way, if you don't care to learn about," I raised my voice when the murmurs reached a frequency I hated. "I suggest you drop out."
A few snorts, and I shrugged. I could see most of the members of the future Rookie Twelve in the class, excluding those who were allegedly a grade up, like Tenten, Neji and Rock Lee, who I presumed were already under Gai's tutelage.
Choji was staring wistfully at his emptied bag of – I squinted to get a closer look – breadcrumbs, judging by the label.
"Choji," I said patiently. "You can mourn the loss of your bread crumbs later."
Shikamaru straightened to look at his friend with an annoyed look, but Choji merely smiled and nodded.
"So, why did you guys want to be ninja?"
Okay, maybe the question was definitely not the coolest, or the most intimidating, but I genuinely wanted to know their response. I didn't know a lot about icebreakers, but I had a feeling that the entire period would go by with farts and coarse jokes on Yano's part if I didn't deign to do something about it. The second years were having scrunched up looks, and why the hell did I find Sasuke squishable?
Shino appraised me with an unnerving gaze, and I sort of hoped hysterically that he wasn't mentally whispering for his bugs to eat me up. I wish I'd brought a can of insect-repellents from home. Actually, I should shut up. Wishing was a waste of time.
"Ino?" I prompted.
The girl oozed charisma, and I wasn't sure if she recognized me as the weird flower shop customer who had run away at the sight of a prepubescent girl, but she merely flipped her hair and met my eyes steadily.
Confidence.
"And why would you want to know?"
Scratch that. I had apparently mistaken snootiness for charm. I couldn't resist.
"For the same reason I am sure your classmates would like to know that you are your daddy's pampered girl."
Her cheeks acquired a pink, splotchy hue.
"Well," Her voice drowned out the snickers that had dared to come up. The males in the room looked apprehensive at the thought of being in Yamanaka's warpath. Shikamaru looked resigned.
"Well, I'd like to become an interrogator."
"She would be one." Kiba muttered to Uchiha, who pursed his lips, directing a venomous glare towards the blackboard. It seemed that the boy was reconsidering his seating arrangements, and I agreed with him. Akamaru pawed at him in despair.
"Kiba!" Her voice was shrill, and I was amused how Choji and Shikamaru hung their heads in tandem, as though they had been putting up with her since their birth. Knowing the way their infamous clans worked, that was probably the case.
"An interrogator, huh?" I leaned against the mahogany bench, balancing my weight on my elbows.
"Do you guys know Morino Ibiki in T and I? Obviously, Ino knows, and that is because her dad is in that line of work, but anyone else?"
No one had an answer, and considering how the happenings and goings in T and I were kept tightly under wraps even from Konoha's upper echelons, I hardly expected Academy students to know what T and I was all about, let alone the damaged people operating under it.
"T and I is an abbreviation for Torture and Interrogation."
They perked up in interest. There was no sound other than the occasional rustle of the leaves of the shii oaks outside, and the incessant chirp of kojuki.
"It is basically a branch for the extraction of information." Ino chirped.
"That," I agreed. "And a convenient place to throw in spies from other nations. The primary objective of the department is to seek information from those who've come with the intention to harm Konoha and its inhabitants."
"It is gory." A brunette with piercing green eyes said, and her hushed voice spoke volumes of her excitement.
"You like that, Touka?" I queried unnecessarily, and she inclined her head briefly.
"Yeah, they torture the info from the unlucky ones." I said, and Ino cringed.
"I am going to be a capable mind reader one day."
"Kami knows you are already." Kiba whispered, and once again, I am at a liberty to point out that it wasn't really a whisper, since the whole class could hear him. Sasuke's expression steadily blackened like a thundercloud, and I momentarily pondered if Kiba was going to be shredded to bits.
Ino shot a nasty glare at Kiba, before turning her nose.
"The Yamanaka clan are adept at all things related to minds." I said as a token of peace.
Ino beamed.
"Mind reading is a tricky thing, because if a mind reader is violent in his actions, he can destroy the minds of his victims. A destroyed mind is not a happy place. Can you imagine a person getting into your head and scrambling all your memories?"
The class held their breaths, and I continued.
"It takes a lot of skill, though." I smirked at Ino. "Think you can handle it, girl?"
She would. She'd be instrumental in the Fourth Shinobi War, which would inevitably led to her father's demise. But she didn't have to know that.
"Of course I can!" She puffed up her chest, sneaking a vindictive glance at Sakura. I took it as an incentive to continue, and I am not sure where the words came from, but they did.
"Every year, countless of kids die in action." My voice was quiet, and I met Hinata's eyes briefly, and they flickered with hesitance. "Some of you get forced into stuff that you don't want to do. But that is just how shinobi life works. Guarding the village takes your life, and every single mission is dangerous. The stakes are high."
"Kids have to die-" I repeated. "-which is why this education that you are receiving now shouldn't be taken playfully."
"You should be serious about every aspect."
Kiba opened his mouth.
"Every aspect." I interjected, gazing at Nara Shikamaru's glittering eyes. "And it doesn't mean only brute strength and awesome jutsus, which most of you are excited to jump straight into. I mean to say things that work your brain. Bring your inner tactician out."
"Erm, what are the other aspects?" Yano sounded quizzical.
"Why, history, for one."
I raised an eyebrow at the groans.
"It might be dry and boring, I agree." I laughed, looking at Hinata.
"Can you tell me the situation with Kumo now?"
"I, um."
I was pretty darn sure that she knew, amongst many other little details that tormented her, but she directed her gaze to her thumbs.
"Things are tense." I said. "Does anyone know why?"
A silence that spoke volumes than words ever could greeted me. I backtracked.
"Does someone know the origin of Kumogakure?"
Sakura hoisted a shy hand, and I gestured for her to proceed.
"Er, it was founded by the Raikage, after the Warring States Period."
"Thank you, Haruno." I scrutinized the class.
"There is something to be said about the relations of Kumo and Konoha." I glanced at the ceiling. It was so high, higher than my dank apartment back home.
"The First Hokage sold tailed beasts to Kumo as a representation of their friendship, at the beginning. The Second Raikage and the Second Hokage attempted to make their relation official with the ceremony."
"Sounds like it should be a good relationship." Ami concluded.
"What a moron." Shikamaru yawned in the back, peering at her lazily through knitted fingers.
"Didn't you come to the Academy in the last two years? The Red and Gold bros attempted to murder the Nidaime. During the First Shinobi World War, Konoha and Kumo ended on opposite sides. It ended with Kumo's Kinkaku force assassinating the Nidame."
To say everyone was surprised was an understatement, and Ami was fuming.
I reconsidered Shikamaru.
"I only like the interesting stuff." He wasn't enjoying the spotlight, and I redirected the attention to me.
"Who is a fan of the Yondaime?" I grinned as several hands shot up. It was no wonder why the fourth was revered by all.
"He is awesome." Yano said vehemently.
"How very observant," My voice was dry. "Let us recall from your last semester - I hope you remember - that he single handedly slaughtered ten thousand enemies during the Third Shinobi War."
The girls sighed. It probably helped that Minato was breathtaking to look at.
"An assignment for tomorrow." I tucked my fringe behind my ear, and the kids looked at me apprehensively, as though they couldn't decide on me.
"You don't have to write any accursed essay or whatever. Just tell me who your favorite Hokage is, and your reasons for that. And please, do refrain from fangirling and saying 'ooooh, he is soo cool!' and 'I wanna have his babies!'. No, the last one doesn't apply to you, boys."
The class laughed.
"Akamaru, can you make sure that Kiba isn't drooling on your head?"
The dog gave a disgusted bark, while Kiba rolled his eyes.
"How many of you are interested in carrying out assassination missions?"
"This ninja business is all about assassination." Kiba pointed out, and I was pleased to note that he had some shred of common sense hanging about his brain.
"Which you guys are going to enter into." I hummed, acquiescing. "However, what I am hinting at are those reconnaissance missions where you have to go to a country that yours is at war with, or partially in treaty with, like Suna for instance, and you have to kill to gather information. Tell me, without information on past events, and also current affairs, do you think you'll be liable to fight there? Every damn country is different. With knowledge on what is happening, you can even make peace between two warring nations."
"That is not possible." Shikamaru drawled.
"And why do you think that, Nara?" I prompted, because he took the bait. It was the nature of a Nara, no matter how profoundly lazy they might be, to counter wrong statements as though their very life depended on them. They took pleasure in breaking down stuff, and while I appreciated that, I didn't see many clans respecting them for that.
He took a second or two to answer, unbothered by the curious looks directed at him.
"Third party interference creates problems." He said quietly. "It makes things worse."
"That's partially right." I said cheerfully. "Unless you are a mediator, never engage yourself in the battle between two warring nations, which happens to bring me to my next point."
I smiled at the naïve, pudgy faces that were intently looking at me.
"It is good to know everything about your foes and allies. Know thy enemy. Information makes you stronger. Have you wondered why you know your close rival, the things that make him or her tick, or angry, and everything that annoys or irritates them? It is because you want to have an edge over him. That edge makes you confident that you can usurp them."
"It is an honour to be recruited a genin. It means the Hokage is giving you a responsibility.
Someone gave a voracious roar of approval. The moron thought that he was going to kick ass.
"But you'll have to pass the genin exam first, I am afraid, and the Board of examiners aren't gonna make it easy for you." I added, feeling tremendously pleased by the whining that broke out in the room.
"Where was I? Yeah, you have to know the basics of the shinobi world inside out before you move into the practical."
The bell rang.
And let me emphasize that that was approximately the time when Uzumaki Naruto broke out of his sleep with a groggy, unfocused countenance.
"Wha-" He began, and I could see Touka digging a pencil into the skin of his elbow.
"Back from the land of the dead, Naruto?" I smiled at him. "We can't have a repeat of that in the next class, can we?"
Bewildered, he rubbed his eyes, even as the class descended in after-bell mayhem.
"And listen," I said nonchalantly, moving out of the room with a speed that rivalled Rock Lee. I paused in the doorway, bracing my hand against the rickety frame, meeting wide – or in the case of Nara, half-mast – eyes.
"The name is Ton. Yeah, make sure to remember that."
I didn't wait to catalogue their response, moving rapidly towards the staffroom.
Well, that went more or less well, I am sure, but a wide grin broke out on my face. Why did I have an inkling that things were going to be awesome?