AUTHORS NOTE: Standard Disclaimer applies. The whole nine-yards of it. Naruto is still Kishimoto-sensei's baby and I am just renting them out. Well, here's some break from the original posts. The chapter that will follow will contain more of those pesky tweaks I've mentioned. And while I know that I am writing this piece for me as an exercise and a writing challenge, I do hope you'll enjoy it-whoever you are who are fortunate or otherwise-to stumble across this piece. Well, here's to hoping someone does.

CHAPTER IV:

ATTEMPTING AND FAILING NORMALCY

My fate cannot be mastered; it can only be collaborated with and thereby, to some extent, directed.

Nor am I the captain of my soul; I am only its noisiest passenger.

Aldous Huxley

SHIZUE Manor

Land of Waves

Present Time Line

The aged oak doors creaked loudly, before finally opening with a bang, telling me without words that an intruder has gained access to my private sanctum. Without bothering to open my eyes I allowed a welcoming smile to bloom on my lips and acknowledged my intrepid trespasser with a languid wave.

"You do know that what you're doing can be considered trespassing?" I murmured teasingly.

"Alas, there resides my lazy, messy little young master, snoring the day away without a care in the world."

The voice that answered me was a voice that was all at once soft, genteel and steely. A voice that called to my mind all the comforts of childhood, of warmth and hope. A voice that called to me from the depths of even the deepest nightmares and soothed my troubles away. Cracking an eye open, I grinned at my trespasser cheekily.

"Still trespassing and don't call me that. It sounds weird coming from you of all people."

"Oh? But would it still be considered that when I happen to live here as well? Your argument is flawed. And I can call you whatever I want. I'm the boss of you, remember."

I opened my eyes and wide, clear cerulean orbs met with amused eyes the color of pure chocolate. That the eyes were now slit with resigned annoyance and chagrin didn't matter much to the grin that bloomed on my lips as I cheerfully retorted.

"That's what I tried to tell you when I was ten and you never let me get away with it. Besides, you didn't have my express permission. I never gave it."

The figure gave me a defiant, uncaring snort before brandishing a broom threateningly in my direction, one hip cocked and left eyebrow raised haughtily.

"Is that so?"

"That is so."

"My, my, someone woke up in a debating sort of mindset. Well then, pray tell, Mr. I-have-all-the-answers, would you argue over the fact that I happen to own the place, in case your self-acting amnesia has reared its ugly head and you've forgotten that little fact?"

"That's not the point—!"

"Ah you mean you have a point?"

"Of course I do. I always have a point and the thing is—hey don't open those—it's too bright! And it's not even morning yet. See—there's still a bit of darkness in the sky!"

"That's because it's already late in the morning. It's so late in fact that I should call it afternoon because you've certainly snored your morning away. And that's not dark skies—those are storm clouds forming. Something you would know if you did your school work as diligently as you worked those roses of yours."

"Hey! Don't you be dissing my roses!"

"My apologies. And as for your supposed argument, as far as I can tell, I AM the boss of you and until the time comes when our roles are reversed, or god forbids you finally manage to annoy me to death, I have free rein over the place. Your room included."

If you still haven't figured it out yet, this is my Iruka-daddy or as he calls him now, Just-Plain-Dad, my father. If you really want to go and be technical about it, he is my adoptive father. Every day he invades the privacy of his son's inner sanctum without any heed. He also always begins my day with a threat to clean my room and not feed me. He would've been more threatening had he not chosen that moment to ruffle my head as was his wont.

"My room is terra incognita Dad!" I pointed out defensively. He merely cocked his other eyebrow at me before continuing on his cleaning spree, unaffected and unconcerned at my affronted wail. He picked up a shirt that decorated a corner of my bed and wrinkled his nose in resigned despair.

"That term wouldn't even apply to this sty. This isn't terra incognita. This is no man's land. The only thing you would need is a hanging and this would redefine the term badlands."

Iruka-daddy loved learning seeing as how he's a teacher and all. In everything he says, he imparts the weirdest, at times disturbing, but ultimately coolest information and trivia ever. Dad had a way of making every single conversation into a life lesson. Not that I would ever complain—well I do, constantly and vocally—but everyone knows that's just me being me.

People have been telling anyone who cared to listen since I was eight that I adore my father. It was one of the things other people could tease me about and not expect any kind of violent retaliation. I myself would proclaim it from the roof should anyone dare me to.

Dad is my treasure, my entire world—my everything. Literally, in my case, since I really didn't have anything before him. I had no hope, no home, and no life. Everything else that meant anything to me is tied to dad and I couldn't imagine any life before him nor do I wish to.

"Dad, seriously, who gives an educational sound-bite in the middle of a rant? Come on, dad, leave it alone."

"I wouldn't come with you if you paid me—that's if you can even manage to find anything to pay me with. And I can't leave it alone, or else I may never find you again. Have you looked at this place? This might as well be the next 'Hoarders' feature. Soon, I'll be waking up and there you'll be on television crying 'don't touch it—those dirty unwashed clothes are mah treasure!' "

"Dad!"

He made a sweeping gesture around the cluttered space, taking special note of the small mountain of clothes that steadily grew next to my bed. I waved off his comments with my customary shrug.

"Dad, don't exaggerate, it's not nice. You told me that yourself. And stop picking up my stuff Dad, I could do that…I meant to anyways and if you'd just wait—!" I moaned complainingly when he started stuffing dirty clothing into laundry hampers and tried to stop him from folding away clean ones into the proper drawers but this was old ground between us.

"If you could do that, why do you wait for me to do it then?"

He pinned me with those tell-tale chocolate orbs and I could feel myself blushing despite the fact that people would swear up and down the entire Wave Country that me and chagrin weren't even on the same island let alone acquainted. I rubbed the back of my head self-consciously, pulling at my hair and muttered softly.

"I'm just a little busy dad."

"Like you're ever not busy, kit. If it wasn't for the hair, I'd think you're a bee except you're certainly not as useful. Is school becoming too much?"

"Nah, I can handle it Dad. I'm in high school now and it's not like you didn't teach me nothing, you know…"

I knew the protests wouldn't mean so much to my dad. Just as my protest regarding his favorite nickname for me was often wholly ignored. Ever since dad found me, he's been calling me kit or when he's feeling especially vengeful 'lil kit'. He said I snuck into his life like a cunning little fox and so I deserved the moniker.

Sometimes I wonder if that's an indication of how he feels about me—an interloper, an intruder in his life. I made the mistake of mentioning it to him once during a terrible rash of temper tantrums. It took me two days to heal from the beating he gave, my ears took a full week before they stopped ringing and it took me the better part of a month to make him look at anything I did without shedding any tears. Suffice to say, I learned never to doubt his feelings or sincerity since. During those endless days I would've joyfully broken every bone in my body, cut every rose in my garden and beaten every one that ever stepped foot into our house if that meant he would smile at me without sadness clouding his lambent warm gaze. I also learned never to piss him off about anything—especially his pet name for me. The consequences were beyond dire and the simplest recollection gave me nightmares. We simply decided to bestow names as we or the situation see fit.

"If Amaterasu herself declared that the world must be populated by slobs then the gods would never have allowed someone like me to be born. Nor would she have permitted the creation of cleaning implements."

I slid from my perch on my bed and stretched out fully on floor, legs splayed out untidily in front of me, looking at him from beneath my lashes as I flashed him a toothy grin.

"Amaterasu's a really old broad by now Dad. I mean she should be, being a goddess and all; she'd be like ten thousand years old or so. That's just far too old. She should be so lucky you weren't around during her time. You'd have driven her and every other god crazy."

"Any god or man who thinks the world is better off being run by a bunch of whiny babies should never be given a potted palm, let alone the cosmos."

"A potted palm...? That's pretty small don't you think so Dad and I really feel quite insulted in behalf of my tea roses. But at least you didn't say a bonsai cause then that would be pretty darn tiny."

"And so is your value to me at the moment, you smart ass."

"Really now Dad, such coarse language does not become a gentleman." I chided, wagging a finger imperiously, eyes still stubbornly closed to the world at large, an unrepentant smirk flashing on my lips. He gave me a sharp poke and then cackled at my affronted look.

"Hey!"

"Yeah, well I tried training you to be one and look what that got me. I got a smart aleck when I just wanted someone sensible for a change. When and if you finally become one, you can reprimand me. Until then, I own your smelly hide and I will speak however I wish. Now get up and get decent."

"Hey! I am always decent and when I'm not, I'm not around for you to know!"

"Are we having an early-morning debate on the passes for decency as defined by the male of the species or shall I commence on his crackdown on this pigsty disguising itself as a human domain?" he raised his eyebrows at me suggestively. I sighed and decided to do what he ordered. It would be pointless to do otherwise. I tried mutiny once and he withdrew my ramen rights for a month. I knew then that no matter what happened, I would never ever rebel again. Losing those precious ramen days haunted me even now.

"How come I never win an argument with you Dad?"

"Because the gods saw it fit to give you to me. Anyone else would have committed you to an asylum or forced to declare war. That also means that from now until the end of perpetuity I am the boss of you."

His barbs came easy—we have had years to practice and get used to the fact that we show affection through hearty trading of insults. It didn't belie the fact that I adored my Dad to the high heavens and the truth that I knew he loved me to pieces. It's our way of bonding and it drove people crazy whenever they hear us going at it.

"Well, that's not really fair."

"Life seldom is, kit." He turned towards my pile of clothes and sniffed. He immediately turned away in disgusted affront. "Lord love you child, what is that stench! Would you stop hoarding things you will not be able to use in this life or the next and leaving them around for me to clean up! I swear you're becoming more like a deranged pack rat every day that passes. You have exactly thirty seconds to hide that in your stash or I will throw them out the window." he muttered under his breath as he stumbled across another one of his 'piles'.

"Oh Dad, come on, you wouldn't—!"

"Twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven, twenty six—!"

"No!Wait!Dad!"

He cackled his signature evil laugh as I scrambled to get to my stash before he truly sends them sailing straight into the ocean below. I know my dad, and idle threats he did NOT make. As I gathered the assorted pile of magazines and manga I collected over the weeks I muttered.

"Slave-driver…"

"I got ears, kit."

"I just bet you do Dad. How do your students get anything past you?"

"Who says they do?" he gave out another of those cheery, scary laugh of his and I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

Seriously, my dad should've been cast as a villain somewhere with that laugh. It's just not natural for someone that nice and kind to have that kind of manic laugh, I tell you.

"Now, I want you off your butt. You should learn to wake up on your own Naruto so that I won't have to invade your precious room. Although I have serious doubts anything here, save the bed frame's precious. Most of the things I find here—barring you and the bed—should be called rubbish."

I gave a mock offended snort. "Rubbish indeed. You ask for the impossible Dad. If I manage to do as you ask, then I won't have your handsome face to greet me every morning. Come now, you won't deny your beloved son his one pleasure in life, now will you?"

"Who says I won't? And who told you you're my beloved anything right now? Right now, you're my perpetual pain in the butt. You wouldn't know where to find anything unless someone hands it to you already."

"And that's another thing. Please stop picking up and tidying it away Dad…really I can do that myself. I meant to do it anyways—and after you clean up my room I never could find any of my things again." I moaned in complaint but this was old ground between us. He pinned me with those startlingly piercing brown eyes, snorting dismissively as his hands, already full of clothes that littered my floor, continued to pick up yet another item.

"That's because I end up throwing away most of what you consider your stuff. Seriously son, who in their right mind hoards an entire collection of different flavored ramen by the box-full? Have you even considered the expiration dates on those things?"

He stared at his father askance, "But Dad, you know I love ramen! Ramen is the food of the gods! It's precious! Besides, it's my emergency stock in case something happens and we can't get anything else to eat! You never know what will happen in the future and everyone needs to be prepared. As for the expiration dates—don't worry, I know for certain none of them would be spoiled four years from now."

"Like they would even have the chance to reach close to expiration with you around. I swear, you are proof-positive that the gods themselves must've declared that every gift they bestow be given an equal curse."

"Oh that's a rather intriguing philosophic line of thought. Why do you say that Dad?"

"Because that's the only justification I could think of for why you came into my life. I can't for the life of me understand how such someone as simple and uncomplicated as me ended up with a problem-laden ramen-obsessed battery-bunny like you."

"But Dad, just imagine how boring your life would've been if you only had your obscene wealth, your huge-ass mansion, your to-die-for good looks, those insane people you call your friends and your bratty students who give you migraines and make you frown. Think of it Dad. Just like you taught me—"

"Or tried and failed to…"

"Yes, yes, but that's beside the point. You and me Dad, it's like yin and yang. Balance, such as it is, is necessary evil of the world. My messiness with your neatness. My godly good looks with your cuteness—!"

"Hey!"

"—your bookishness with my natural smarts, your adorable dorkiness with my utter coolness—!"

"You're treading on dangerous ground brat—better stop before I hurt you."

"And finally—think of the sheer genius of having your brainy good looks complimenting my handsome, charismatic self."

"Huh. All that and all I can see is that it's more like my animal tamer to your beast."

"Dad!"I clutched at my chest as if wracked by imaginary pains. I stared at him accusingly, giving in to the urge to sniff piteously. "The things you say! Have a care for your dear son's delicate nature! If I allow you to say whatever comes to mind, well, whatever would be left of my ego let alone my sense of worth?"

"I know what will happen to your bloody hide if you don't get a move on and march down to eat the food I had to make at such an ungodly hour just so you can have a meal before haring off to your class. Now go and take a bath or else I will tell every girl you tried to proposition in campus that you sleep with a plushy fox and you suck your thumb and that you borrow my clothes every time you sneak off to go to a bar you didn't think I knew."

"You wouldn't! And how did you know anyways?"

"Is that even a legitimate question? And I'm your father, I know everything." he raised his eyebrows suggestively. I sighed and decided to do what he ordered. It would be pointless to do otherwise. Dad could be so creative when he's feeling miffed and especially so when he feels vindictive and thinks I deserve it. Really the things I've had to endure in the name of parental love. I gave my smirking father one final pouting glare.

"You are remarkably mean today. I don't know what has gotten into you."

It didn't escape my attention that he suddenly lost much of his playful air. There was something so disturbing about seeing my dad losing that spark that characterized him so well. I tried not to call any notice to the struggle he was clearly having between himself and whatever it is that robbed him of his cheer.

"You don't want to know. Come on, I will give you a free pass for today."

I stood my ground. My father was the epitome of serenity. I however, am a rescued wild child considered to be a human sunspot by everyone that knew me. I know when someone is spouting bullcrap from their arsehole.

"Oh and why this sudden spike of generosity Dad?"

Dad gave me one of those pleading looks that never failed to move me but I steeled myself against the urge to simply yield. He never had much reason to be sad and when he is—I feel like buying a whip and flogging someone like a wayward mule with everything I've got. My ADHD would guarantee that anything or anyone that I focus on would feel the attention.

"My honorable Uncle called to say he's coming for lunch."

That would do it. I swore and this time I didn't bother censoring myself.

"Bloody fucking hell did you say?! That two-bit son of a pimpled mummy is slithering back into our house."

Dad gave me a tight smile and nodded. He didn't have to say anything else. My skill with description always gets a healthy work out whenever we venture on people I hate. I have—according to my dad—a real flair for insults.

He turned towards the door, carting along the hamper that held my soiled laundry, when he suddenly stopped and gave me another smile—this one a bit better, a bit more normal and nodded towards my sleepwear.

"Just a simple advice kit, you might want to rethink your current wardrobe. And oh, son?"

"Yeah Dad?" I replied, my voice muffled by the sleep shirt I was already pulling off my head.

"I know it's not really something I should ask of you but could you please avoid putting toads in his seat this time? I couldn't find a replacement for the antiques you destroyed last time and I would rather not try and find someone who could refurbish a hundred year old upholstery on short notice."

"I'm not making any promises Dad."

"I know dear. By the way, I'm sorry for today."

"Sorry for what Dad?"

"Well, while he's here I need Kazuto to come out and play nice."

"Don't worry about it Dad. I can totally manage, believe it."

"I'm sure you will, dear."

"Dad?"

"Yes dear?"

"I'm banned from using toads right?"

"That's right son."

"But everything else is fair game, right Dad?"

"Naruto…"

"That's all you need to say Dad."

"Naruto…"

"What Dad?"

"Try not to destroy the china okay? There's no replacing centuries old Meissen."

"Got it Dad. No china then."

Hey, Dad only specified the chairs and the china. I had an entire entryway, hall and dining room given to me carte blanche. I had plenty of options right there. Time to prepare my arsenal. I have a snake to eradicate.