FIC: Naruto: Admiring With the Heart (1)
Title: Admiring with the Heart (1/?)
Author: lilpocketninja
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore and the aftermath there of (CSI-level stuff); language; more plot than romance.
Pairings: Kakashi/Iruka (eventually)
Notes: Well, here it ‘tis. My Iruka Story with Plot in (-dybatto)! Yay! Livejournal's been a meanie about letting me post it, so you may've already seen it on y!gallery
***
“To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind.” --Theophile Gautier
***
Covered in vomit, smelling of shit, and smiling contentedly, Umino Iruka left the Konoha orphanage whistling softly. Though he loathed to admit it when chasing down this year’s insane prankster - Naruto, Konohamaru, Iruka, they went by different names but were all the same - Iruka loved children. That was why he was smiling instead of cursing the twice-damned flu that had wracked the younger orphans and left Iruka covered in white spit-up from the top of his pony-tail to the bottom of his sandals. He squelched as he walked.
As he nodded to the civilian woman at the front desk and the ANBU checking in for nursery rotation, the sun had just begun to wash over the tops of Konoha’s houses and bathe the whole world in soft, red light. The light made the school teacher frown; crimson skies reminded him of Kyuubi’s attack and the memory made for an unpleasant start of the day. His students would undoubtedly suffer for his sudden morbid mood, the sense of paranoia and foreboding creeping over their sensei’s thoughts. Iruka forced himself to dismiss the images from his mind’s eye as he raced over the rooftops back to his own tiny, barely lived in apartment for a quick shower and change before officially starting his day. After all, the children in the orphanage would be guarded by an ANBU. The masked man had started showing up a few months ago, joining in the rotation of adults who volunteered eight- or twelve-hour blocks of time looking after all the orphans produced by a village of shinobi. Iruka had asked Sandaime about it; the late Hokage had explained that some ninja needed the connection with the village’s children to justify the killing they did to protect Konoha. Realizing that he had nothing to worry about, Iruka climbed into his apartment’s window and shuffled to his bathroom while trying not to grind vomit into his carpet.
Bathing did a lot to alleviate Iruka’s mood, though he still felt a little nervous for some reason he couldn’t name. All through the school day he kept glancing out the window as though expecting to see Konoha laid to waste. Instead the village continued about its relatively peaceful existence - at least, until Iruka realized that the Konohamaru Squad had used his preoccupation to escape and the teacher tore through the streets screaming at them. The chase reminded Iruka of Naruto, though his former student had a lot more smarts than his current one, and a fond smile graced his face even as he dragged the three truants forcefully back to class. Thoughts of his favorite former student occupied Iruka throughout his shift at the mission desk and up until the time he got home and curled into his bed for a quick nap. The clock read six; his next shift at the orphanage started at nine. It was an exhausting schedule, but Iruka had long ago learned to live with the bare minimum of sleep during the week. Still, he treasured the few hours he did get and always slept deeply without dreams.
Which was why, when Iruka found himself hitting the ground running and in a cold sweat seconds after springing awake, he did not question his instincts. Though he would never have normally confessed that he believed in something so silly, his grandmother had always had an uncanny ability to know when something horrible was about to happen - and so had he. The teacher raced through the village, unmindful of his bare feet and the shocked and scandalized looks of the people he firmly shoved out of the way, his mind focusing on the place where he had first felt the foreboding: the orphanage.
The orphanage and orphan dorms were nearly on the other side of Konoha from Iruka’s apartment. After he had finally managed to save enough to free himself from its dingy walls, Iruka had moved as far away as he could afford only to visit nearly every day to look in on Naruto or some other bright child that captured his easily-given attention. Pointless, really, and he regretted it as he wasted precious minutes jumping and weaving through the evening crowd at the marketplace before finally-finally arriving at his destination.
From inside he could hear crying. Of course children cried, but to Iruka’s trained ears the sound signaled distress much deeper than a dirty diaper or empty stomach. In the space between one blink and the next, Iruka jumped to the second-story window where most of the sounds originated. He only paused long enough to take in the scene: ANBU-san from early this morning, holding a broadsword over a group of huddled children and a civilian volunteer. Procedure told Iruka to back away and get help, Jounin help. Fourteen years of caring and worrying too much propelled him through the window instead.
Iruka landed in a low crouch, his hands already filled with shuriken before the ANBU even noticed his presence. The man heard the clinking of Iruka’s weapons as he prepared to throw, though, and spun around just as two bright flashes of silver flew forward; he dodged and Iruka’s weapons wound up embedded in the plaster wall just above the civilian’s head. She screamed and several of the children joined in wailing, a low level background noise compared to the blood rushing in Iruka’s ears and his ragged breath.
“ANBU-san. Please put down the sword and let’s talk about this?” Even as he said it, Iruka’s hands began forming seals he knew by heart but hadn’t used for years. ‘Tiger - Ox - Horse - Dog - Dragon - Please let me have enough for this to work -just this once--‘ As his hands hurried through the motions and he concentrated on directing his chakra evenly, the ANBU wasted no time in watching his special technique.
Instead the man flung two handfuls of stilettos in his direction. Iruka jumped out of the way, landing on the wall and sticking there with his feet even as his hands continued their rapid gestures. As he ran around the room, feet slapping on the rabbit-print border and hands continuing in directing the jutsu, Iruka could feel his chakra production starting to lag. He did a loop up the wall and onto the ceiling with a trail of shuriken trailing in his wake before one of the ANBU’s hands finally caught him around the arm and jerked down.
Iruka landed with a thud on the carpeted floor and curled onto his side trying to shield the ankle that had just been broken. Just a few - more - seals and the jutsu would be complete! Iruka’s dark eyes squeezed shut and he blocked out the sound of the children’s crying and the enemy standing over him and the world long enough to complete the final ‘dragon’ and pull a last burst of chakra from deep within himself.
“MIIRA NO JUTSU!” As soon as the last syllable ripped from Iruka’s lips, the air around his opponent began to shimmer. Chakra completely enveloped the man like a skin-tight bodysuit and then exploded out, drawing with it all the water from the man’s body. He didn’t have time to scream before his mummified corpse hit the ground in front of sixteen toddlers. Iruka saw none of it; as soon as he completed the jutsu he gave into the darkness and the water hovering in the air came crashing down with a splash.
-TBC-
Author: lilpocketninja
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore and the aftermath there of (CSI-level stuff); language; more plot than romance.
Pairings: Kakashi/Iruka (eventually)
Notes: Well, here it ‘tis. My Iruka Story with Plot in (-dybatto)! Yay! Livejournal's been a meanie about letting me post it, so you may've already seen it on y!gallery
***
“To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind.” --Theophile Gautier
***
Covered in vomit, smelling of shit, and smiling contentedly, Umino Iruka left the Konoha orphanage whistling softly. Though he loathed to admit it when chasing down this year’s insane prankster - Naruto, Konohamaru, Iruka, they went by different names but were all the same - Iruka loved children. That was why he was smiling instead of cursing the twice-damned flu that had wracked the younger orphans and left Iruka covered in white spit-up from the top of his pony-tail to the bottom of his sandals. He squelched as he walked.
As he nodded to the civilian woman at the front desk and the ANBU checking in for nursery rotation, the sun had just begun to wash over the tops of Konoha’s houses and bathe the whole world in soft, red light. The light made the school teacher frown; crimson skies reminded him of Kyuubi’s attack and the memory made for an unpleasant start of the day. His students would undoubtedly suffer for his sudden morbid mood, the sense of paranoia and foreboding creeping over their sensei’s thoughts. Iruka forced himself to dismiss the images from his mind’s eye as he raced over the rooftops back to his own tiny, barely lived in apartment for a quick shower and change before officially starting his day. After all, the children in the orphanage would be guarded by an ANBU. The masked man had started showing up a few months ago, joining in the rotation of adults who volunteered eight- or twelve-hour blocks of time looking after all the orphans produced by a village of shinobi. Iruka had asked Sandaime about it; the late Hokage had explained that some ninja needed the connection with the village’s children to justify the killing they did to protect Konoha. Realizing that he had nothing to worry about, Iruka climbed into his apartment’s window and shuffled to his bathroom while trying not to grind vomit into his carpet.
Bathing did a lot to alleviate Iruka’s mood, though he still felt a little nervous for some reason he couldn’t name. All through the school day he kept glancing out the window as though expecting to see Konoha laid to waste. Instead the village continued about its relatively peaceful existence - at least, until Iruka realized that the Konohamaru Squad had used his preoccupation to escape and the teacher tore through the streets screaming at them. The chase reminded Iruka of Naruto, though his former student had a lot more smarts than his current one, and a fond smile graced his face even as he dragged the three truants forcefully back to class. Thoughts of his favorite former student occupied Iruka throughout his shift at the mission desk and up until the time he got home and curled into his bed for a quick nap. The clock read six; his next shift at the orphanage started at nine. It was an exhausting schedule, but Iruka had long ago learned to live with the bare minimum of sleep during the week. Still, he treasured the few hours he did get and always slept deeply without dreams.
Which was why, when Iruka found himself hitting the ground running and in a cold sweat seconds after springing awake, he did not question his instincts. Though he would never have normally confessed that he believed in something so silly, his grandmother had always had an uncanny ability to know when something horrible was about to happen - and so had he. The teacher raced through the village, unmindful of his bare feet and the shocked and scandalized looks of the people he firmly shoved out of the way, his mind focusing on the place where he had first felt the foreboding: the orphanage.
The orphanage and orphan dorms were nearly on the other side of Konoha from Iruka’s apartment. After he had finally managed to save enough to free himself from its dingy walls, Iruka had moved as far away as he could afford only to visit nearly every day to look in on Naruto or some other bright child that captured his easily-given attention. Pointless, really, and he regretted it as he wasted precious minutes jumping and weaving through the evening crowd at the marketplace before finally-finally arriving at his destination.
From inside he could hear crying. Of course children cried, but to Iruka’s trained ears the sound signaled distress much deeper than a dirty diaper or empty stomach. In the space between one blink and the next, Iruka jumped to the second-story window where most of the sounds originated. He only paused long enough to take in the scene: ANBU-san from early this morning, holding a broadsword over a group of huddled children and a civilian volunteer. Procedure told Iruka to back away and get help, Jounin help. Fourteen years of caring and worrying too much propelled him through the window instead.
Iruka landed in a low crouch, his hands already filled with shuriken before the ANBU even noticed his presence. The man heard the clinking of Iruka’s weapons as he prepared to throw, though, and spun around just as two bright flashes of silver flew forward; he dodged and Iruka’s weapons wound up embedded in the plaster wall just above the civilian’s head. She screamed and several of the children joined in wailing, a low level background noise compared to the blood rushing in Iruka’s ears and his ragged breath.
“ANBU-san. Please put down the sword and let’s talk about this?” Even as he said it, Iruka’s hands began forming seals he knew by heart but hadn’t used for years. ‘Tiger - Ox - Horse - Dog - Dragon - Please let me have enough for this to work -just this once--‘ As his hands hurried through the motions and he concentrated on directing his chakra evenly, the ANBU wasted no time in watching his special technique.
Instead the man flung two handfuls of stilettos in his direction. Iruka jumped out of the way, landing on the wall and sticking there with his feet even as his hands continued their rapid gestures. As he ran around the room, feet slapping on the rabbit-print border and hands continuing in directing the jutsu, Iruka could feel his chakra production starting to lag. He did a loop up the wall and onto the ceiling with a trail of shuriken trailing in his wake before one of the ANBU’s hands finally caught him around the arm and jerked down.
Iruka landed with a thud on the carpeted floor and curled onto his side trying to shield the ankle that had just been broken. Just a few - more - seals and the jutsu would be complete! Iruka’s dark eyes squeezed shut and he blocked out the sound of the children’s crying and the enemy standing over him and the world long enough to complete the final ‘dragon’ and pull a last burst of chakra from deep within himself.
“MIIRA NO JUTSU!” As soon as the last syllable ripped from Iruka’s lips, the air around his opponent began to shimmer. Chakra completely enveloped the man like a skin-tight bodysuit and then exploded out, drawing with it all the water from the man’s body. He didn’t have time to scream before his mummified corpse hit the ground in front of sixteen toddlers. Iruka saw none of it; as soon as he completed the jutsu he gave into the darkness and the water hovering in the air came crashing down with a splash.
-TBC-