Chapter Text
Naruto stands back to admire his artwork. In front of him, all the stone faces of Konoha’s great leaders are now graffitied with vibrant paint. He chuckled while trying to clean up as fast as he could before anyone noticed he was up there. Placing paint buckets and brushes in a bush nearby so it’s not noticeable, he makes his way down the ladder without looking back but it’s too late. Iruka is waiting for him at the end of the stairs. Naruto tries to escape but Iruka is faster, grabbing him by the collar and pulling Naruto towards him.
“Iruka-sensei! What’s up?” Naruto says sheepishly as he focuses his attention on straightening out his jacket. Iruka looks at him slightly irritated, slightly tired.
“You know very well what you did. Now go back and clean the mess you made!” He grabs the mop and bucket he had brought along and hands it to Naruto. “March!”
Naruto lets out an exaggerated sigh and starts heading back, Iruka in tow. It’s just a harmless prank, why can’t Iruka just chill out? He starts cleaning while Iruka takes a seat on the ground, not trusting the job to be finished without his supervision.
“Naruto, we’ve talked about this. You should be training, going over jutsu techniques. Instead, we’re here again. Be more mature. You’re going on missions now, and you can’t be going off doing stupid pranks like before.”
Naruto pauses his cleaning, looking down at his sandals. He can’t explain the feeling but his heart aches at that moment.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not good enough.” Iruka gets up and walks up to him. He places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, hoping to convey he’s not angry. Naruto shrugs him off and quietly resumes his cleaning. Iruka backs off for now, going back to wait for his former student to finish. This time, he sits a bit closer. He starts thinking of a plan to cheer Naruto up. They always get weird after these types of situations happen and sometimes not even ramen can calm the waters. Maybe it’s because Naruto is growing up, moody teenagers are hard to deal with.
“Done.”
Iruka is startled out of his thoughts. He gives a quick look over at the results and smiles at Naruto.
“Alright, you’re free. And please, think before you go about doing another prank.” Naruto nods, smiling back at Iruka, all teeth on display. He turns around, starting to walk down the stairs until Iruka bumps into him.
“Race you down?” Iruka starts sprinting, leaving a dumbfounded Naruto behind but not for long. The teen launches himself towards Iruka, latching his arms around his neck. Iruka chokes at the sudden strain, shifting Naruto into a piggyback hearing the other laugh his heart out. He chuckles and leads them both onto the streets.
“Hey Iruka-sensei, do you think I’ll make it to Hokage?” Naruto asks, fiddling around with Iruka’s headband.
“I don’t see why not, but you must study. Otherwise, you’ll never make it." He's met with a groan.
“But I hate studying! Plus, I got natural talent, watch this! Sexy-”
“Hold it!” Iruka shakes his body from side to side, stopping Naruto from performing that lewd jutsu of his. He didn’t need a nosebleed at this moment.
“Fine, your loss.” Naruto slumps against Iruka’s back, enjoying the ride. “Studying isn’t for me.”
“Studying is for everyone; you can’t go wrong.” Naruto rolls his eyes at the insistence.
“No offense Iruka-sensei, but I couldn’t understand a word of whatever you were teaching us. It was all gibberish. I’d be the happiest guy in the world if I could miss out on studying.” Iruka hums.
“Why don’t I get someone to tutor you? Maybe you could ask Sasuke? He’s-”
“No way!” Naruto screams directly into Iruka’s ear, causing both to almost fall. “I don’t need a tutor! I can do it on my own. That guy is already a pain in my ass.” Iruka sighs at his student's stubbornness.
“He’s your teammate, and doesn’t Kakashi-san arrive super late to your meetups? You could go over scrolls during that time.” He kept insisting. Naruto was always a bit hardheaded but eventually would take any advice offered by him. He’s a good kid. He'll do the right thing.
“Over my dead body.” Or not.
They walk around a bit more until sunset, finally arriving at Naruto’s building complex. Iruka squats to put him down. Naruto’s face has a frown, clearly not going to take his advice.
“Please Naruto, I want you to succeed. You can’t be Hokage with just pure talent, you need discipline, knowledge.” Iruka pats on the head and takes his leave, heading towards his own apartment. Naruto waves at Iruka’s disappearing figure and enters his building, climbing the stairs until he reaches his apartment. He kicks off his sandals once the door closes behind him. He gets a quick view of his room/kitchen. It was a mess, but he couldn’t care about that now. He lays on his bed and lets out a sigh. Tutor, huh? He knows he’s not the smartest shinobi out there; he was barely able to graduate.
He was a little annoyed at Iruka for even bringing up Sasuke. Just a few days ago, Sasuke had made himself out to be the hero by bringing down some rogue shinobi during a team seven mission. Naruto hated him so much, looking all high and mighty in front of Sakura. Kakashi-sensei even praised Sasuke for his quick thinking. Naruto kicks his feet on the bed, letting out his frustration.
He'd like Sasuke to be on another team. Better yet, leave Konoha forever. His thoughts were interrupted by his stomach gurgling loudly. Naruto did a quick recount in his mind of what he had in his fridge, believing he did have some leftovers. He got up to go to the kitchen, opening his fridge. All it held inside was a carton of milk, that was already half empty, and one egg. Did I use up all my pay? He decided to make himself a small omelet. He could splurge once he got paid on the next mission.
While lost in thought, he accidentally placed the egg on the corner of the counter, causing it to fall and splatter on the floor. Naruto looked at the mess on the floor. He leaned down, carefully scooping what he deemed edible into a cup. He picks out the small eggshells within the mix. What's too small to pick up, he leaves on the floor. Pouring in a small amount of milk, he fixes his dinner. He’s not in a position to waste anything. He cleans the mess he's left on the floor, eggshells sticking on the bottoms of his feet. The floor is stained with a sticky substance he knows he'll have to clean up later before the smell sets in.
With his meal cooked, and plate set on the table he begins to eat, his beverage of choice being the last of the milk. He is sick of water.
He ate silently, finishing his meal quickly. It wasn't a large portion to begin with. He goes to his balcony to water his plants and then gets ready for bed. He flicks off the light switch and crawls into bed. Sleep doesn’t come over him, so he keeps staring at the ceiling until it does. He ignores his hunger that has not fully been satisfied. Covered in darkness, where no one can see him, he finally lets it go. His mask comes undone. Tears fill his eyes, everything he's felt, all the words that puncture him during the day escape through the sorrow running down his face. He would let it happen. He never welcomed the sadness but couldn’t stop once he began.
I’m so pathetic.
He tries to wipe away the tears, but they just keep coming.