Fanfic: Two Ways to Comfort a Shinobi Chapter 8
Title: Two Ways to Comfort a Shinobi
Chapter: 8
Author: StarbearerTM
Fandom: Naruto
Character: Iruka
Genre: angst
Rating: T
Word count: 1612
Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto created Naruto Shippuden; I didnt. It is owned and licensed by Viz and Shonen Jump. I make no money from the writing of this fan fiction.
Iruka gritted his teeth, wanting to holler at the top of his lungs, or punch something. Frustration built up inside him so completely that he was sure if he did not keep a lid on himself, he would explode. Face red he managed to keep his wits about him and exit the office after he looked coldly at the administrator.
The academy instructor frowned wrinkling the scar across his nose. "All I ever did was try to help a student in need."
"That is no excuse," answered the headmaster. His hands slipped under the table so no one could see them.
"You saying there's no statute of limitations on a teacher/student relationship that is merely familial?" asked Iruka, intensifying the hardness in his eyes. Sweat beaded on the headmaster's brow, and even the clerk nin writing things down.
Cringing as if he had been hit the headmaster cleared his throat and pointed to the door. "Umino san, please leave the office until further notice. You are becoming exceedingly hostile."
"If I'm not given a better explanation, you bet I'll be hostile," grumbled Iruka, pushing off from the table.
Even the secretary Nin stood up at the sight of the academy instructor hunched over the table grabbing its edges. He leaned forwards towards the headmaster who leaned back barking, "You threatening us?"
Face still flushed a darker tan; Iruka all but gnashed his teeth. "Not a threat, but a promise. This is NOT over by a long shot. I’ll complain to the Hokage about this.”
Now the academy instructor’s brow knit together even further. In a low voice he whispered, “Complain away. However, you are still relieved of duty. Show Umino san the door...”
Before the secretary nin could pull out the shuriken she had been holding in the hand not holding the pencil, and the headmaster finished forming hand seals under the desk Iruka stood up and backed away. He bowed deeply and mumbled, “I know the way out.”
**
“Stupid, arrogant pain in the A... ear!” Iruka grumbled, storming out with his binders clutched under his arm. If he could burn holes in the door of the academy with his vision he would have, but unfortunately that was a jutsu he did not know.
Even now, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising up from the strange sensation that he wasn’t alone. No, those shadows were definitely other school officials who had called ANBU.
“Cowards can’t even show their own faces,” Iruka griped. He looked back at the academy door for a few seconds before swiveling around towards the direction of downtown where his mind wandered to a nice hot bowl of noodles.
“Ichiraku’s it is, before I lose it,” Iruka decided, setting his feet in that direction.
Automatically they carried him there without much further thought. That headmaster’s neck would make a very curious snap crackle pop sound if he squeezed hard enough. Iruka had never liked the man much, and he most certainly moved him to his shit list today.
Words that the teacher would not dare say in front of his students formed on his tongue and he cursed, “Damn that son of a b... biscuit!”
He caught himself just in time seeing a few of the young academy students bursting out of the door of a classroom to play for recess. Face blazing bright red when they waved and called out, “hullo, Iruka sensei...” he waved back with a very broad smile.
Just as fake as the ones that Naruto wore, and the ones he was used to wearing in the past. Not a skill he liked returning to, but he guessed he would have to in the days ahead.
**
That familiar smell of beef and the sound of sizzling noodles met his ears after he lifted the cloth panel and shoved himself inside the ramen stand. That forced smile only worked long enough for him to call back, “Hi!” to old man Teuchi and slink into a seat.
Those people watching him on the street could almost see the shame rolling off him, but Iruka was sure it was his imagination. Those shadows were probably everywhere, and it was insulting that he knew just how well to do such a thing himself because of the countless time’s he would demonstrate it to the class.
“Will it be the usual, Umino sensei?” asked Teuchi, easing up on the smile.
“Yeah, thanks very much,” Iruka replied. Raising a brow, Teuchi turned away to start making the order. A cup of tea again broke into that sound of snap crackle pop he hoped the headmaster’s neck would make. Iruka realized he heard the noodles in the pots sizzling.
Ayame hugged the tray to her aproned chest. "Are you sure you're ok Iruka san?"
"Just one of those days I wished I had stayed in bed," the instructor murmured, stirring raw sugar into his tea. More than twice the amount.
"Who wouldn't want to stay in bed with Kakashi san," whispered Ayame as she nudged him. All Iruka could muster in response was a faint smile. The muscles of his face simply wanted to pull into a jaw wobbling frown. His pounding heart and rush of adrenaline still coursed thorough the instructor's system. Iruka hid the urge to let his chin wobble behind his extra sweet hot tea. One sugary sip offered him its soothing warmth that quelled the urge to fight or flee. He wrapped both hands around the mug in an attempt to suck every last bit of comforting warmth from the beverage.
A sudden thunk jolted him so he sat upright, saw the stamping bowl of ramen, and clutched his chest. Teuchi glanced down at him with worry in his eyes. "You're pretty jumpy... eat your ramen and it'll calm you down..."
Never more happy to snap his chopsticks apart, Iruka seized the steaming hot bowl and attacked it. Just chewing that first mouthful released flavors capable of distraction. Once he swallowed the bite the chunin felt his chest tighten along with his jaw. Ramen reminded him of Naruto, teaching, and what sent him here. He squeezed shut his eyes before he gobbled down another mouthful.
"Easy there! There's no rush!" Ayame cautioned. Iruka's cheeks stuffed full of food gwve him the appearance of a squirrel stashing nuts. That hand which shuddenly came to rest on his shoulder imparted a calm wave that just for a moment instructed his pangs of guilt and shame.
He felt as if he had, "cradle robber," or "student fraternizer branded on his back. If Teuchi knew what would he think? "Hey, Iruka san, bad day?"
Swallowing another mouthful Iruka stammered out, "yes... It was the worst..."
Teuchi squeezed his shoulder. "Those school officials don't appreciate a hard worker like you."
Oh no, why did he have to say that, Iruka wondered. Of all the sentences in the world he reeled as if slapped upon hearing it. He grunted in neither the affirmative nor the negative through another huge mouthful. Just a nod was enough for Teuchi to return behind the counter. They didn't need to have their image soiled with the stain of shame he'd received.
Iruka suddenly felt as if he were full, but pushed himself to eat the rest because he hated wasting food. From the time he remembered his parents he had never failed to finish a dish put before him. Hr wsnt about to shame himself further now or draw more attention. It seemed an imaginary spotlight shone down on his path as he said goodbye, and reached to lay for the ramen.
"Don't bother. Its on your tab," Teuchi chuckled, which caused Iruka to flinch.
"Oh no, I want to pay!" Iruka interrupted.
"Half price ramen then," Ayame interrupted while she held her hand out for the money the chunin handed her. Momentarily the instructor had the curious sensation he was watching the scene from somewhere behind his left shoulder, similar to someone watching a tv show but also being partly aware of it.
"More like a video game character," Iruka thought as he left the ramen place at a brisk walking pace. Undeniable urges pulled him ever more quickly towards his home; if only he could get home fast enough that nobody noticed he could peel off his clothes and climb into bed.
He almost dropped his house keys when he reached his front door. The keys for his classroom jangled against the others so loudly he glanced around to see if anyone heard him. Only one neighbor bothered to look, so Iruka sighed in relief. He stumbled into the door, slammed it shut, and rushed to his bedroom.
Off came the chunin vest, followed by his bandanna. His sandals flopped down in a corner by the doormat. Black pants landed across a nearby chair while his shirt heaped in a pile near the table. Making a bee line to the bathroom Iruka slammed the door shut behind him.
Hot water nearly scalded his hands that turned on the tap a moment ago. He almost broke the faucets in his effort to find a comfortable temperature. Last to go was his boxer briefs dropped beside the commode. Iruka shivered as he stepped into the cold porcelain bath tub and shoved himself under the sluice of water.
No amount of water could wash away the shame he felt infecting him. Hair plastered around his face angled down to watch water spin down the drain. Against the tile wall ahead of him he pressed his flattened palms. How much polish would it take to rub away the tarnish on an otherwise shiny career?