chuunin_archive | [fic] as she reigns [chap. one]

title: as she reigns
genre: i'm hazarding a guess. i was never good with this. um...fantasy? drama? i think it's best if i leave it to your imagination. a teensy bit of humour.
rating: T because someone thinks another is a pansy-ass o.o
warnings: cursing o.O um, talking about guts. unknown sexuality of characters. they could be heterosexual one moment and gay the other. depends on my mood ;D ages of characters may be distorted! abundant amount of OCs.
pairings: N/A See above ^
summary: AU Pre-Manga. In which Iruka feels confident and sexy (debatable) and Nagasaki (anger management needing OC) curses Whatever His Name Was out, Sarutobi gets old and his freckles start turning into liver spots and there's a crazy psycho ninja who's on the loose, stomping on the floor. Just another day in a Hidden Village.

Iruka woke up that day with a slight tugging feeling in his gut. The sensation was uncomfortable, rather like the feeling of a slight cramp in your leg, but persistent in announcing its presence. Iruka never ignored his instincts. So with a slight trepidation and a wary feeling sharpening his reflexes, Iruka continued his day. After tying on his forehead protector –it was a brand new one that had been awarded to him when he made chuunin- and grabbing a quick ration bar among countless others from his cupboard, he set out from his cramped home, onto the busy streets of Konoha.

It was a bright sunny day –not that it was unusual, it was Fire country after all- and the clear blue strip of sky was clear of clouds or any birds. Iruka smiled softly, his wariness inching back down into his soul. A clear blue sky was good luck, and luck was one of the most important factors in a battle for life or death. He cast a contemptuous look at the swarming civilian streets, filled with people jostling each other and vendors screeching out prices in high reedy voices. The morning rush had finally begun for the civilians, but for many shinobi, morning was already half gone. The buildings that jutted out of the earth at a seemingly random order, were more popular with shinobi- or rather the roofs were.

The roofs were filled with blurred images, each one lasting for no longer than a second. When the sun struck a certain way on the roofs, glints of metal could appear, winking like a bright star and then disappearing as swiftly as the blurred images. Shinobi (Well, most of them. Others preferred a less strenuous way of getting high) were speed junkies of the highest order and they were proud of it. The whip of cool air streaking across your face, the surroundings all disappearing into one colorless blur, the adrenaline singing through your veins and urging your muscles to move even faster- it was enough for anyone to become a ninja.

Iruka always enjoyed the brief moment of weightlessness in a particularly high jump, or the feel of the wind rushing against his ears and the exhilaration of complete and utter freedom it gave him. Besides, it was a nice way to show off the new Chuunin flack vest he was wearing without seeming conceited. So, feeling the comforting weight of the jacket on his shoulders, the heavy and new fabric rubbing next to his skin, and the heavy shifting of his weapons against his body, Iruka took off for the Hokage tower, feeling like the master of the world.

His feet touched briefly with the roof of a neighboring apartment and Iruka took flight. His lithe body, made for stealth and assassination twisted in the air, helping him cut through the air more easily. A combined burst of chakra and adrenaline pulsed wildly in his veins and Iruka jumped five buildings clear in one jump. A new record for him. Ignoring the feeling of elation, he pressed on swiftly toward the rising tower, its bright red countenance a bright contrast against the white buildings it was nestled in.

The Hokage’s Tower, built by the Shodai Hokage himself, stood steadfastly through all these years and had never fallen to an enemy, since the very day that Konohagakure was officially declared a Hidden Village. Filled with precious documents and swarming with elite shinobi, it was the home of the Hokage himself. Some argued that the ANBU headquarters were located here as well, for the protection of the Tower as well the Hokage, but still others disagreed, saying that it was just some false rumor planted as misinformation. Iruka didn’t particularly care if it was true or not, as the aura of power radiating from the Tower was enough of a message to him – don’t mess with the Tower, unless you want to lose more than your life.

Arcing gracefully on his last flight in the cool air, Iruka came to a graceful landing, right in front of the worn but ceremonial wooden doors. The years had smoothed down the wood, leaving a smooth surface as slick as water, the carvings that depicted famous battles, worn away until the likenesses were nothing but nubs of wood, the slashing weapons nothing more than a slight ridge in the wood. Yet the door represented something that all shinobi of Konoha respected. The power of the Hokage. It was the first thing fresh Genins just barely out of the Academy looked at, the first step rookie Genins took toward service to the village. Iruka smiled fondly at the door, reminiscing about the door from days gone by, how he and his teammates had gazed upon The Door, knowing that they could not go backward only forward.

A quick shake of his head brought him out of his thoughts and back to the worn, dusty path, the smooth wooden door and the thought of missions ton come. Briskly, a calloused hand gripped the practical handle tightly, twisted and pulled. The door swung open without a sound, revealing pale tiled floors, dim fluorescent lighting and strolling ninja. Iruka smiled ruefully- he half expected it to be a thriving metropolis of elite ninja, of eerie and mysterious mannerisms, of powerful auras and energy throbbing with every step he took. A daydream, similar to his Academy days- and then stepped in, his sandaled feet making no sound. It was time to start a mission and his service to his village. Another ordinary day, another ordinary routine, another ordinary dream. Iruka was content with what he had, with his status and his life. What more could he need?

----------------------0

The Sandaime Hokage puffed away on his pipe, the smoke rings that rose from the battered device, swirling around the famed red hat. He was reclining on his chair, gazing out his window with a somewhat world-weary look. Eyes half shut closed, Sarutobi’s bright eyes regarded his village thoughtfully.

‘Shunsuke-kun seems to have recovered from yesterday’s crash. The reimbursement policy seems to be working…’

‘Ah, Nagasaki-san better be more careful…he might strain those muscles he tore last week…”

A slight shift in the air kicked Sarutobi’s guard into action and he stiffened slightly, grasping the pipe just a little more tightly. He didn’t move towards the new presence, but his chakra did. Swirling around the newcomer, Sarutobi recognized the chakra signature.

“Ah, Akayama-san. It’s been a while since you’ve last…visited.”

“Hokage-sama. Forgive my bluntness, but you know why I am here.”

Sarutobi’s mouth contorted like he had swallowed something particularly sour. It looked like a hybrid between a smile and a grimace, however strange it seemed.

“No, no. You were always straight and to the point –no need to curb it for an old man like me.”

“Hokage-sama.” There was a slight hint to it –warning, fear, anger, impatience… Sarutobi couldn’t quite distinguish the emotions. ‘Ah, I’m getting old, my senses are dulling. There once was a time when I could’ve picked up everything…but those are bygone days…’

“I apologize…it seems that getting old has its disadvantages. Everything is completed, all the paperwork and forms filed, the notices given out…Now all there is to do is work with you materials and see if you can make something out of it, Akayama.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama. Your help is much appreciated.” The reply was curt, brief and icy cold.

“I try. Besides that, I found someone…useful. He might possibly make it past the two weeks.”

“I will take him into consideration. Thank you.”

Sarutobi nodded, his exhaustion weighing him down heavily. “Dismissed.”

There was a distinct sound of footsteps and the slight creak of the door as it opened before it shut. Sarutobi still reclined in his chair, eyes glazed over, his eyes watching something only he could see…

’Those bygone days…’

===================0

“What do you mean, I’m not allowed to take a mission? Don’t gimme that look you fucking prick. I need that money! Now fork that fucking form over, or I’ll gut ya to pieces and hang you by your small intestines from the Hokage Tower. You hear me?”

The Chuunin at the mission desk, to his credit did not piss in his pants. He instead quivered. In his pants. Like Jell-O. Very, very jiggly Jell-O “I-I’m sorry b-but Nagasaki-san, I-I’m afraid-“

“You better fucking be afraid, you little bastard! I’m gonna gut you, right here, right now,” Nagasaki snarled wildly. He grasped the collar of the Chuunin at the desk and hauled the limp body of the Chuunin over the desk, scattering paperwork everywhere.

“Look, punk. I said, gimme the paper NOW!” Nagasaki sneered into the face of the frightened Chuunin. The Chuunin took one look at his red face and the whites of his eyes showed before they rolled into the back of into his head. Bam.

Nagasaki dropped the limp body onto the floor carelessly, paying no attention to the slight crack that resounded when the Chuunin’s body hit the floor. Whatever –that little punk was such a lightweight. No need to worry about that little pansy-ass. Nagasaki searched the desk with a skilled eye, keeping a lookout for a cushy B mission. While searching, he found a plain looking scroll with only a few characters written, stark against the white rice paper.

It had his name and ID number.

Curious, Nagasaki picked it up, noting the small seal. It looked pretty simple –one of those blood ones needed for summoning or for guarding documents. He narrowed his eyes warily and tucked it into a pocket in his flack vest. It would be best to open it back home where security was something he could trust. He gave the mission desk another once-over and sighed when he spotted only grunt work.

He turned around and gave the limp body the Whatever His Name Was a look filled with pity. It was a wonder how the fool had made it to chuunin –probably needed him for bureaucratic reasons or another. Bah, the idiot wouldn’t make it past one of the upper level B missions. It was better that he stayed in the offices unaware of the dangers and best of all –alive.

On a piece of scrap paper (it was a mission report half graded) and a pen he stole from Whatever His Name Was’s pocket, he scrawled quickly and quite illegibly, ‘Sorry ‘bout the mess, you pansy-ass. Just coulda given me a mission, but you hadta act like a fool. And get a new haircut –it looks horrible on you.’ He stuck the note on top of the limp body and then he surveyed Whatever His Name Was’s face. It didn’t look so good.

Nagasaki felt for a pulse on the man’s throat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Eh, he was alive. Whatever.

And without a backwards glance, Nagasaki left the missions office.

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A/N: And no, Whatever His Name Was isn’t Iruka. ;D We –well I- have big plans for Dolphin boy! Eh. In actuality no plans, but we can skip that. This isn’t really a fiction that is planned out (not planned out at all actually) and I’m only writing it in hopes that my muse wakes up. ;3 Hope you enjoyed and please drop a comment. ConCrit is much appreciated as is shameless extolling.