Day One: 300 words of practice (cont'd)
“This edge is blunt.”
“This one’s off-balance, what did you hit it with?”
“This one needs to be oiled more thoroughly.”
“You need to re-wrap the grip on this one--.”
Frustrated at the constant insults-because it wasn’t constructive criticism after 17 hours of it-to her weapons-caretaking skills, Sakura was tempted to drive one of the sharper, pointier ones straight through her sensei.
Even if the damn thing was off-balance.
“Why don’t you sit here and help, then!” she snapped back, still bent over her latest kunai with a whet stone, her rag and oil in a pile beside her.
Of course he waved her off with a smile and his usual cheerful eye-crease, completely at ease with her volatile temper.
“Then you wouldn’t learn to do it yourself.”
She growled, her caustic epithets escaping none of their small group.
“Ne, Kakashi-sensei, can we do this when the sun comes up? I keep cutting myself in the dark,” whined Naruto, who hissed at the end as he nicked himself for the umpteenth time.
“Shut up, dobe,” muttered Sasuke, concerned their teacher would assign them another round of laps to help them ‘re-focus’ if the other two didn’t shutthehellup. The worst part was, he actually agreed with the idiot for once - even with his Sharingan activated, it was difficult to inspect the weapons he held while they sat under a tree, in the forest, in the middle of the night with their hands all bandaged from clumsily working on their -- Andwhatthehellwasthatsound-
“You’re sharpening that one unevenly again, Sakura-chan.”
“I hate you! I hope you die a horrible, miserable death someday, you sadistic slave-driver!”
“Well it won’t be at the end of one of your kunai, that’s for sure.”
…Which was why Team 7 was called into the Hokage’s office first thing the next morning, for careless and wrongful aggression with shuriken outside of a supervised training ground.
They sat in an ungrateful heap, their legs and arms a bit longer, their backs taller, their hair… well, it had been a rough morning.
As their sensei paced the ranks behind them, the three students glowered balefully when their teacher strode to stand in front of them.
“Present.”
Each one obediently, if begrudgingly, held aloft their sharpest, deadliest kunai.
After a quick perusal, the Copy-Nin’s face remained impassive and he turned to eye his ‘guest’ presenter.
“Sai?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Present.”
The young artist immediately produced his supply-out of nowhere, Team 7 would later retell-and brandished two dozen immaculately maintained weapons, two pads of paper, eight bottles of ink, and 4 brushes.
And a copy of Icha Icha, in deference to his host.
… Which was why the vein was popping out of the Hokage’s temple later that afternoon, as basic inter-ninja protocol had to be re-explained to the now-chuunin Team 7; specifically the rules about not engaging a guest with deadly force during a training exercise.
Especially against their own ANBU counterparts.
“Really, where are your manners?” the Hokage exclaimed in frustration. “Has Hatake Kakashi taught you nothing about how to be shinobi of Leaf?”
… Which was how Sasuke and Naruto ended up outside the cell of their rabid female colleague for the night, while she ‘cooled off’ and ‘thought about her potentially treasonous treatment of her beloved Hokage’.
Her ‘brothers’ were gone on their own mission that night as she camped with their former sensei on their way to Iwa.
Sakura glanced up at her current mission-partner, bored and looking for some company as the small fire burned into the night.
He was perched high up on a branch above her, his Icha Icha positioned over his face so it looked like he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, but she knew better.
Knowing he would ignore her if she called to him, she settled for dragging both their packs closer to her lap, and pulling out their spare weapons caches.
“Want me to do yours, too?” she called up to him.
“If you still need the practice,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she mock-scowled and drew out her whet stone, bottles of oil and grease, and rags.
“Careful you don’t cut yourself on these tomorrow!”
“Oh, there’s no chance of that…”
Luckily, they were too far from the village -and Hokage-that night for her to be reprimanded for her rather creative and vocal retort to her commanding officer.
… That happened when they returned to the village, three weeks later.
“He made you clean, polish, and sharpen every--.”
“Single, bloody, disgusting, worn, damaged--.”
“Kunai he has ever owned in his stupid, stupid life.” Sakura finished with a tired, shaking fist pounding the counter weakly… before sliding off into her lap. She tried to raise her head from the not-quite-clean surface, and failed, closing her eyes a moment in exhaustion. “I’ve been working his most precious metal sharp-things for three days straight, with no sleep and no food, and ohkamisamaisthatramen?!”
A bit disturbed by the unholy light in his ‘sister’s dark-rimmed eyes, Naruto nervously pushed the bowl closer.
Like an animal that hadn’t eaten in days, a half-feral Sakura fell upon the food like a starved lioness.
“… so I suppose that means you aren’t up for helping me with mine, huh?”
At the end of their meal, Sasuke carried Sakura over his shoulder, and dragged Naruto down the road by his collar, after Sakura landed her one and only punch that day - her aim not quite as deadly as usual.
The Hokage heard about the incident, but ignored it.
It was Naruto, and he’d bounce back.
Late that night, Kakashi opened his closer and admired the gleaming weapons covetously.
Beneath his mask, his smile reached ear to ear.
“Oy, sensei!”
The Copy-Nin glanced down at his former student from his branch high above her.
“I was going to go over my blades - do yours need doing?”
No, none of his would need doing for quite some time after the points she put on them, he thought to himself gleefully.
And he didn’t miss her gasp of surprise when she opened her bag, far below him when he didn’t reply to her.
And now she could see that she wouldn’t need to do hers, either.
It wasn’t often he went out of his way for his students, but when he did, it was-
“OY! Sensei!” she demanded indignantly.
“Hm?”
“What did you do!? My shuriken’s edges aren’t equally sharpened; this dagger’s wraps have a bubble; and did you use cheap grease on my favourite kunai?!”
The Hokage threatened to agree with Sakura on this one, when the grievance was brought before him.
“Cheap grease, Kakashi-sensei? Oh, that’s just lame,” his former pupil admonished.
Well, it was good while it lasted, Kakashi thought to himself.
“This one’s off-balance, what did you hit it with?”
“This one needs to be oiled more thoroughly.”
“You need to re-wrap the grip on this one--.”
Frustrated at the constant insults-because it wasn’t constructive criticism after 17 hours of it-to her weapons-caretaking skills, Sakura was tempted to drive one of the sharper, pointier ones straight through her sensei.
Even if the damn thing was off-balance.
“Why don’t you sit here and help, then!” she snapped back, still bent over her latest kunai with a whet stone, her rag and oil in a pile beside her.
Of course he waved her off with a smile and his usual cheerful eye-crease, completely at ease with her volatile temper.
“Then you wouldn’t learn to do it yourself.”
She growled, her caustic epithets escaping none of their small group.
“Ne, Kakashi-sensei, can we do this when the sun comes up? I keep cutting myself in the dark,” whined Naruto, who hissed at the end as he nicked himself for the umpteenth time.
“Shut up, dobe,” muttered Sasuke, concerned their teacher would assign them another round of laps to help them ‘re-focus’ if the other two didn’t shutthehellup. The worst part was, he actually agreed with the idiot for once - even with his Sharingan activated, it was difficult to inspect the weapons he held while they sat under a tree, in the forest, in the middle of the night with their hands all bandaged from clumsily working on their -- Andwhatthehellwasthatsound-
“You’re sharpening that one unevenly again, Sakura-chan.”
“I hate you! I hope you die a horrible, miserable death someday, you sadistic slave-driver!”
“Well it won’t be at the end of one of your kunai, that’s for sure.”
…Which was why Team 7 was called into the Hokage’s office first thing the next morning, for careless and wrongful aggression with shuriken outside of a supervised training ground.
They sat in an ungrateful heap, their legs and arms a bit longer, their backs taller, their hair… well, it had been a rough morning.
As their sensei paced the ranks behind them, the three students glowered balefully when their teacher strode to stand in front of them.
“Present.”
Each one obediently, if begrudgingly, held aloft their sharpest, deadliest kunai.
After a quick perusal, the Copy-Nin’s face remained impassive and he turned to eye his ‘guest’ presenter.
“Sai?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Present.”
The young artist immediately produced his supply-out of nowhere, Team 7 would later retell-and brandished two dozen immaculately maintained weapons, two pads of paper, eight bottles of ink, and 4 brushes.
And a copy of Icha Icha, in deference to his host.
… Which was why the vein was popping out of the Hokage’s temple later that afternoon, as basic inter-ninja protocol had to be re-explained to the now-chuunin Team 7; specifically the rules about not engaging a guest with deadly force during a training exercise.
Especially against their own ANBU counterparts.
“Really, where are your manners?” the Hokage exclaimed in frustration. “Has Hatake Kakashi taught you nothing about how to be shinobi of Leaf?”
… Which was how Sasuke and Naruto ended up outside the cell of their rabid female colleague for the night, while she ‘cooled off’ and ‘thought about her potentially treasonous treatment of her beloved Hokage’.
Her ‘brothers’ were gone on their own mission that night as she camped with their former sensei on their way to Iwa.
Sakura glanced up at her current mission-partner, bored and looking for some company as the small fire burned into the night.
He was perched high up on a branch above her, his Icha Icha positioned over his face so it looked like he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, but she knew better.
Knowing he would ignore her if she called to him, she settled for dragging both their packs closer to her lap, and pulling out their spare weapons caches.
“Want me to do yours, too?” she called up to him.
“If you still need the practice,” he replied.
Shaking her head, she mock-scowled and drew out her whet stone, bottles of oil and grease, and rags.
“Careful you don’t cut yourself on these tomorrow!”
“Oh, there’s no chance of that…”
Luckily, they were too far from the village -and Hokage-that night for her to be reprimanded for her rather creative and vocal retort to her commanding officer.
… That happened when they returned to the village, three weeks later.
“He made you clean, polish, and sharpen every--.”
“Single, bloody, disgusting, worn, damaged--.”
“Kunai he has ever owned in his stupid, stupid life.” Sakura finished with a tired, shaking fist pounding the counter weakly… before sliding off into her lap. She tried to raise her head from the not-quite-clean surface, and failed, closing her eyes a moment in exhaustion. “I’ve been working his most precious metal sharp-things for three days straight, with no sleep and no food, and ohkamisamaisthatramen?!”
A bit disturbed by the unholy light in his ‘sister’s dark-rimmed eyes, Naruto nervously pushed the bowl closer.
Like an animal that hadn’t eaten in days, a half-feral Sakura fell upon the food like a starved lioness.
“… so I suppose that means you aren’t up for helping me with mine, huh?”
At the end of their meal, Sasuke carried Sakura over his shoulder, and dragged Naruto down the road by his collar, after Sakura landed her one and only punch that day - her aim not quite as deadly as usual.
The Hokage heard about the incident, but ignored it.
It was Naruto, and he’d bounce back.
Late that night, Kakashi opened his closer and admired the gleaming weapons covetously.
Beneath his mask, his smile reached ear to ear.
“Oy, sensei!”
The Copy-Nin glanced down at his former student from his branch high above her.
“I was going to go over my blades - do yours need doing?”
No, none of his would need doing for quite some time after the points she put on them, he thought to himself gleefully.
And he didn’t miss her gasp of surprise when she opened her bag, far below him when he didn’t reply to her.
And now she could see that she wouldn’t need to do hers, either.
It wasn’t often he went out of his way for his students, but when he did, it was-
“OY! Sensei!” she demanded indignantly.
“Hm?”
“What did you do!? My shuriken’s edges aren’t equally sharpened; this dagger’s wraps have a bubble; and did you use cheap grease on my favourite kunai?!”
The Hokage threatened to agree with Sakura on this one, when the grievance was brought before him.
“Cheap grease, Kakashi-sensei? Oh, that’s just lame,” his former pupil admonished.
Well, it was good while it lasted, Kakashi thought to himself.