A shinobi is a high school student like an other

‘My life isn’t that interesting… all in all, a teenage shinobi is a high school student like an other… just maybe with more potentially lethal troubles.’ ( Alternative Universe, Urban, POV, yaoi/slash to come, language)

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It was shortly after Zabuza got placed under my mental ‘friend’ tag that I got confronted with a living mystery.

The night had been infernal. Unusual; generally villains are just like snakes, they calm down with the cold.

Perdu, you lose.

Far beyond the outskirts of the city, in a quiet part of the forest, we stumbled upon a nest. Unfortunately, it was a very crowded nest.  How easily an "info and recovery" mission morphed into a shoot-'im-up, using well-know characters for targets.

I had used all of my chakra on the field to the point of near exhaustion, and Zabuza hadn't sheathed his weapon once in four hours.

 Genma, Raidou and the other team--for those who hadn’t had to pass by the infirmary square and had not put in an appearance in class--were still at the ‘sleep’ square.

Because of all this, Zabuza and I were looking like death warmed over this morning – and I was looking more than any other day like a drug addict, as Uchiha and co. oh-so-kindly reminded me as soon as I stepped into school. There was one other person looking like death warmed over as well.

You’re gonna laugh, but I had never seen or noticed this guy before, during the two plus months of classes. It couldn’t possibly be a new student, teachers would have been all over him.  I wondered how I managed to never notice him – either I really sucked at registering my environment since the beginning of this term, or this guy was worth a closer look.

He had quite long brown hair falling in his face, skin more tanned than mine – not that it was difficult - , and a scar crossing his face from cheek to cheek. Thus the hair in the face I suppose.

And he had the look of someone who had spent the night outside. Yet another ninja-boy in the class?

The first teacher of the day lectured us when all three of us showed up late for his class, lips pursed, saying that “you should work instead of spending your nights out, evidently if you want to learn to make something of your life in the future -yada yada yada- the headmaster -yada yada yada- your parents will be informed of this-…more yada yada yada”

I kill for a living. Zabuza kills too. All we’ll do of our future, is carry on what we are already doing, ‘cause it’s the only thing we know how to do. But…I somehow had troubles picturing myself explaining that to the teacher.

At least one good thing came out of his boring lecture: the family name of mystery-guy, Umino. At the end of the class, I undertook to try get to know a bit more about the zombie. As the people were leaving the room in a proper chaos, I moved closer from Zabuza.

“You had noticed Umino before?”

“Zombie number 3? Nope.”

Zabuza was on the same wavelength as me. It only made me more curious to find out who this guy was.

I followed Umino to our next class, without being too noticeable through the colorfully dressed students that were roaming the corridors. He sat against the wall next to the door without thinking it over and closed his eyes. He didn’t open them when I planted myself not too far from him.

“You look like death warmed over, man. Didn’t see you at the party though…”

I felt Zabuza glaring a hole in my back. Bet he was wondering what stupid idea had suddenly sprouted in the thick head of his teammate. Umino opened one eye, looked me from head to toe before closing it again.

“Wasn’t at the party. A problem with that?”

Wow, quite aggressive. Things to hide?

“Just curious, sorry.” 

He didn’t add anything, just waited for the teacher to come and open the room. I was waiting too, back against the wall, watching him from behind one of my ever present books.

If I had a tad bit more chakra, I would have tried to see if he had more chakra than the average person; but the little sleep I managed to catch hadn’t allowed me to rebuild my reserves. That and I had no wish to have to go to the infirmary; I would have passed out because of chakra depletion. This would send me straight to the HQ’s infirmary, and oh kami that woman was frightening…

I had no more chances to know more about this guy this day. Even with all my attention - diverted from the classes, not that it was a huge change from the usual – I found myself unable to spot him again.  I wondered if he hadn’t just vanished.

When I told Zabuza, he pointed that it was next to impossible to find someone in the halls, beside Uchiha and co. You, too, I would have added; but I refrained from saying it out loud.

He was right. I could always discreetly cast a glance in the school’s files one of these days.

I mentally created a little form in my head titled ‘Umino’.

Oh, and it was the weekend now, why would I use my neurons when there was no need to? I had just to hope that nothing would come up between tonight and Sunday night. Just catch on some sleep and chakra. Just that…

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You’ll catch me hoping for a miracle again in the week. Hoping for one at the end of the week especially. It’s just peachy to take the crappy assignment and seeing it explode in your face - or lower.

All that to say that Sunday, I got up (early) around noon-one o’clock, awake enough to make an appearance at the HQ.

Once there, what did I see? The guy in charge of mission dispatching came to me and said “Hatake, you’re okay? A mission just came up and you’re the only one qualified to do it who's around.”

I say “‘Kay, lemme see that.” Goddamn mornin’ decisions.

He gave me the mission. Assassination - quick, discreet and all that, to end before midnight tonight. I love ultimatums, it’s incredible how it’s motivating – this come from the guy who hates fixed timetables.

What did I do? My mission of course; found the guy where it was said he would be, at the assigned hour, with the people reported – no place for improvisation, timing fixed to the millimeter, ‘I’m the perfect weapon’, bam-bam. En avant la musique. On with the show.

The guy moved away from the crowd, came closer to my position. When he passed by me, I shadowed him until we went, alone, into an adjacent street rarely used – even less at this time – badly lighted and all.

Cliiichééééé. And inevitably, it happens to me. So inevitably, the thing you’re not expecting at all happens. In the middle of _my _ mission.  The man decided to go all ‘Highlander’ on me - japanese version, short, sharp and very well wielded.

Personally, I had nothing against his movie, but I had a schedule to keep. I gave him the end without stepping up to Highlander II and III.
Did I mention his version was particularly well wielded? Well enough to leave me a souvenir. Just a scratch compared to what I managed to get in the past, but a nasty scratch for a Sunday night mission.

So now it was Monday, and being essentially myself I didn’t went to see Scary Woman last night, preferring the silence of my house to fix me properly – that after having mentioned ‘mission done’ on a scrap of paper. This explains why I was standing--like an ass--in my bathroom, trying to warp myself with gauze to prevent the cut –superficial but red, not serious but RED- from rubbing too much against my pants, from bleeding, and above all from sending me to the high school infirmary.

I had trouble picturing me explaining that – or at least trying to – to the school nurse, without adding the other various marks and scars considered to be rather unusual on the body of a ‘no trouble’ teenager.

And it was hurting like hell.

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This crap was really hurting like hell.

I was even beginning to wonder why I had fucking taken the trouble to come to school today. Ah, yeah, Scary Woman. The HQ, and especially sensei and our head medic had the tendency to be very careful… No day of school missing without some excellent reasons. Well, they were right – you try to keep your shinobi from vanishing into thin air – but today I would have done a better job of staying in my bed. And that without having to go see Scary Woman our dear medic.

Zabuza strengthened this idea as soon as he saw my head.

“Hatake, what have you played at again?”

“Super weekend… got to the movies…”

“Say that to someone else! Did you take a look at your face?”

A this particular moment ringed the proverbial saving bell - rather the kind of fire alarm that acted as a bell. To the classes, oh joy. Double French Monday morning.

I rather like French usually, it’s one of the only class I’m listening to with both ears. It allows me, among other things, to extend my insults repertoire. But today, it just wasn’t my day. I wasn’t putting enough attention into the teacher’s shrieks to understand them, without forgetting to add that they were, before all, digging through my eardrums. I noticed that the class’ humming ceased just when the shrieking came suddenly much more dangerously closer.

“Avez-vous entendu ce que je vous ai demandé déjà deux fois Hatake …? ”

My only answer was to look up - wrong answer.

“ Mon di…  Do you want to go to the infirmary Hatake?”

Not that wrong since she came back to an more easily understandable language. I guessed I was scaring to look at.

“No… but could I go out ?”

“Of course, who go with him?”

Oh no. No-one, it was okay, I wasn’t going to end sprawled on the floor, though the teacher seemed to think otherwise. I didn’t wait to see who she wanted to dump on me to go towards the nearest toilets. Every moment of rest was a good moment.

When I stepped in the airports-toilets – super big, super lighted, super mirrors – I first noticed who had been promoted sick nurse : Umino among all. Great, maybe I’ll manage to learn a bit more about the guy. Then I noticed the living-dead.

White like death, with circles under the eyes reaching the middles of the cheeks and too red lips. Who let the make-up in the kid’s reach? Ha ha. Putain. No wonder the teacher freaked out. I was frightening.

I would have glanced under my shirt, but with Umino there who was watching me strangely, it wasn’t looking like one of the best idea I could came with. Merde. I turned the tap on. The water was iced. This was enough to tell me how I was. How stupid was I, seriously. Not even able to patch himself properly. The weapon hadn’t even be poisoned! Scary Woman was going to enjoy herself. Wasn’t going to be a bone left for my grave.

“Hatake, you’re okay?” asked Umino, frowning. Aa. Not for very long though. But I wasn’t going to answer that, he seemed enough ill-at-ease already.

“Don’t worry, need more than that to get rid of me….”

“You sure you don’t want to go to the infirmary? You look…”

“…like death. Or hell. Pick one,” I quietly ended.

Umino looked shaken. I pretended not to see it, head lowered on the sink. 

“Could you get me the lessons?” I asked out of the blue.

Umino watched me funny, apparently still a bit shaken.

“I’m going home,” I explained.

“O…Okay, no prob’.”

I returned to the class, Umino on my heels, just to take back my bag and tell the teacher I was leaving.

Fuck, but I felt ill. But I noticed from the corner of my eye, as I was leaving the class unnoticed by most – beside Itachi who was mumbling something along the lines of “Bad trip Hatake or withdrawal symptoms?” – and I was modeling a tiny amount of chakra to block pain, that Umino suddenly grimaced and held his head in his hand.

This got registered on its own in my ‘Umino’ form.

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