Crazy Inspirations

I will finish the other story (the actual one) that I'm working on, but this one is flowing out of me like "IDTYU" did...which is somewhat of a freaky coincidence, since that is what this chapter is about. Nathaniel, as the only reviewer thus far, you have my undying gratitude for telling me what you think, and I hope you continue to do so in the future. Enjoy!

I have made it rather abundantly clear that I don't own Naruto. If I did, I wouldn't be so surprised when the characters stop by for these chats.


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I had been on a Naruto kick recently. Since I was once again avoiding my organic chemistry homework, I spent a lively amount of time doing image searches for various pics of the Naruto cast. After finding a few really nice pictures (Gaara and Neji sure age well, in my opinion), I spent a little bit of time rereading some stories I had bookmarked as favorite on ff.net.

A recurring couple in the Naruto-verse (though many view it as crack) is the pairing of Kakashi and Iruka (in no particular order), both rather attractive men in their own right and deadly shinobi. Good choices, though; their color schemes (Kakashi being light with Iruka dark, despite the reverse being more true mentally) complimented each other so well that, in their own right, the idea of them as a pair was almost as attractive as the couple consisting of Sasuke and Naruto (also in no particular order).

Two stories of varying lengths later, I was more than enthralled with the idea of a badass Iruka. I use the manga as my guide through the Naruto-verse, not the manga, so I had had a great mental diagram of Iruka’s character fairly early on, though I understand that the anime does a better-than-fair job of following the manga.

Right away, I did not like the way Iruka seemed to fade into the background in the manga, despite his being one of the most influential people in Naruto’s life. He bought Naruto ramen, for godssakes! Anyone who buys Naruto ramen can’t simply disappear, not when he’s as awesome as this!

Another thing that irritated me right away in the manga was the whole concept of Iruka, a former trickster, now being one of the stellar role models of young shinobi everywhere. If someone has pulled pranks at one point in his or her life, the experience doesn’t just disappear quietly into the mist, never to be seen again. It may get relocated to the more shadowy recesses of the brain, but it never leaves.

“Now that you know that, are you going to do something about it?”

I blinked and looked down at my o-chem homework. “Do these bloody molecule structures contain hypnotic suggestions or something?!”

Long, straight, spiky brown hair and a shiny metal, leaf-engraved hitae-ate entered my field of vision. Iruka looked at me in an inverted manner from his position behind my chair. “I don’t know, but since you’ve only spoken with Naruto-kun while doing this so far, I doubt it can be called a coincidence yet.”

“An excellent point.” I scooted my chair backward a little and stood to greet my unintended guest. Standing behind me, in typical chuunin/jounin regalia (not sure if I was supposed to be able to tell the uniforms apart, provided there was a difference) was Umino Iruka, former Konohagakure trickster and current Academy sensei.

After bowing and a brief introduction, I invited him to sit on my bed. As he did so, I turned my chair around and sat down to face him. “I presume that you are here for the same reason that Naruto-san was, Umino-san?” I asked him.

He smiled at me “You’ve known us for a while, even if we’ve never met you. Please, call me Iruka.”
“Iruka-sama,” I countered. “You have much to teach me.”
“I’m honored.”
“The honor is mine.” I paused and sighed. “So, are you?”

He nodded solemnly, scooting to the side and laying his torso against my upstanding pillows on the headboard. “Obviously, you had the same idea about making a true-to-personality story about me that you did about Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun.”

“Yes, I did.” I looked at him warily. “You don’t mind or anything, do you?”
“Oh, not at all,” he reassured me. “In fact, I’m pleased. I’ve been fairly happy in the stories you had read, but there are, as you may have noticed, far too many cases of my being a spineless sex object for Hatake-san to screw against any flat surface.”

My eyes opened wide in surprise. “Wow, you don’t mince words...”
“I haven’t offended, I hope--”
“Not a bit!” I said with a smile. “I was just a little taken aback. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you as you are.”
“So it has been with many, I suspect.”

I eyed him speculatively. “Do I have to have the same conversation with you that I had with Naruto-san about two guys and sex?”
“No,” he replied. “I suspect that you might have to say something to Hatake-san, though?”

“Hmm? Why---” I stopped. “Oh...I never even thought of that.”
“I’m not sure that I can blame you, when it comes to the image the other writers paint of Hatake-san,” he said absently. “He does sound attractive that way. Even I think so, and I am not inclined toward the male gender normally.” He blushed a little, and I looked away quickly before I could embarrass myself.

I grumbled. “Damn, now I’m glad he didn’t show up here. I’m so annoyed at myself--”
“Yo.”

I squinted my eyes shut and tried to keep the images of my stabbing Kakashi a few new orifices from tap-dancing across my bloodthirsty mind. “Murphey hates me,” I muttered.
“I don’t know who this--” Kakashi paused, and his eye became thoughtful-”Murofue was, but I don’t think he’d hate you.”

I shook my head at him. “You’d be surprised. I think he hates everyone, which is something in and of itself.”
“Why?”
“He’s dead and we’re not?” I shrugged. “The idea behind Murphy, and the law he supposedly created, is that anything that can go wrong will go wrong, usually at the worst possible time.”
“So, how is my showing up here a part of that?” The blue eye looked at me guilelessly.

I exhaled. Hard. “Never mind.” I waved a hand at him. “Sit please.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, but his character (or someone very similar to him) was very fond of appearing in my mind and suggesting things at random intervals. Probably one of the only things I could credit the guy (figuratively speaking) for was giving me plenty of practice at both making up excuses for busting out into random bursts of laughter and keeping a straight face.

I like Kakashi, but his timing is terrible.

“You know why Iruka-sama is here?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He looked at me and blinked slowly. “Ever thought of writing for Icha Icha? You’d be great.”

I blushed, then glared. “Excuse me for being hormonal,” I said sarcastically. “At least I don’t walk around with a permanent erection.”
“Hey, I don’t,” he said, eye doing that strange smile thing. “I just walk around with porn all the time. There’s a difference.”
“At least I had sex ed.”
“Huh?”
“Exactly.”

When, if ever, had Kishimoto-san ever talked about the darker parts of the shinobi world? While it’s possible that killing people is the worst part of the job, there are other connotations that are more unpleasant than simply ending life. Ending innocence can sometimes be worse than death.

If Kakashi hadn’t had sex ed, then there was essentially no way in hell that he could be the sex god some other writers were portraying him as, despite the nice ramifications of having a “ready-made lover.” Kakashi’s character concept might be “genius,” but I doubt that it extended to everything.

“I don’t have a choice in this,” I said softly.

“I don’t think you did,” Iruka replied just as softly.

I stretched my hands out, rotated my neck, and forcefully stretch-shrugged my shoulders. “Okay,” I said gustily. “You mind if this is another one-shot?”

Kakashi somehow smirked with his eye, and I wondered how he managed to convey so much when more than half his face was hidden. “I doubt it’ll turn out that way, but sure.”

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...and as you all are aware, it didn't. Thirty-five chapters later, that was my first finished multi-chapter story ever, and I am somewhat bemused at how it turned out. I realize that I sort of sound like I'm on some form of elite mission from God (and I'm taking that line straight from Blues Brothers), but I'm more driven by my sense of artistic actuality. If a picture is of a tree, I expect it to look like a tree, not an erotically shaped bush, or a salamander, or the chemical structure of DMSO. Its colors can be changed, but it's a tree, and it has a reason for being the shape that it is.

That having been said, I'm somewhat frustrated with how a lot of stories I've read portray Iruka as this sexually wanton but essentially submissive lover to the permanently-horny Hatake Kakashi. I dislike how he is so easily swayed by kisses and sensual touches, and most of all, I hate that few people take advantage of his naughtier side. Kishimoto-san even goes as far to say (or draw, what have you) that he was a prankster in his youth. Like I said in the conversation above, that doesn't just go away. Mischievious-ness is forever; it just chooses to come out in subtler ways.

As for Kakashi...well, those of you who have read "IDTYU" (and I'm not plugging, but it is helpful to read) have heard all of my reasons as to why he's not this insanely brilliant lover or well-versed in all forms of sex, so I will only say this; childhood trauma doesn't make for a sex god in bed. Even I, an essentially experience-less person, can vouch for that.

...unless the person chose to escape reality by studying various erogenous zones and practicing control, but I digress, as I am prone to do.

Have I inspired thoughts?