The Cycle of Hatred: A Naruto Insert

A mug of piping hot coffee nested between his numbed hands, sleeves dragged halfway over his wrist and a blanket draped around him. Iruka took slow, cautious sips from the cup, watching the sun from the balcony of his apartment.

His home of fourteen years – going on fifteen soon.

He smiled softly. It was a strange smile, pulled until it was taut. While grateful for the home and the den of happy memories it had become, its foundations lay on the worst night of his life. It took time, and painstaking effort, but Iruka had made something of himself, rising to the rank of his parents – chunin.

Blowing a little over the coffee, he tipped his head back and took a gulp. It was not exactly morning anymore, but there was no such thing as the wrong time for coffee.

After Iruka's promotion a few years ago, the steady grind of C-rank missions slowed down as his enthusiasm waned. Even before he was given his flak jacket, he knew that being out in the field was not something he liked. He did not enjoy acting as an assassin for hire and though he had killed many deserving of death, he had done worse to those who did not. Because above all else, shinobi must fulfil their obligations to a paying client.

A little under a week ago, his first term as a teacher at the Academy had drawn to a close and he knew deep down that this was his calling. Iruka had felt more satisfaction in the brief months spent teaching than all the time spent in active service to the village. The negatives of the job were nothing in comparison. So long as he made sure to meter his time out responsibly, the divide between his private and professional lives would remain undisturbed.

Iruka’s musings were cut short by the crisp sound of a knock on his door. He shrugged off the blanket and rose, with some effort, out of the reclining outdoor chair and into the warm apartment and opened the door.

“Fujino?”

She looked up and he realised immediately that she wasn’t okay. Her dark eyes looked exhausted, framed by dark bags, and her already pale skin held a deathly pallor.

“...Can I come in?” she sighed.

Iruka opened the door wide. “Yes. Yes, come in.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he closed the door. She took a seat in his living room, shrinking into herself.

“Coffee?”

Iruka froze, waiting for her reply. When she did not respond, he asked again.

“W-What?” Fujino flinched, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked if you wanted some coffee.”

“Yes, please…. Lord knows I need it.”

With his half-finished coffee in one hand and Fujino’s in the other, he glanced at her out of his peripheral vision.

“So, do you want to tell me what brought you here so early?” Iruka asked.

Instead of answering Fujino, set her coffee down on the low table in front of her and faced him. “Now that I think about it, Iruka, our relationship is quite the ill-fated one.”

“Heh.” He grinned, but it was more of a grimace. “Yes, I suppose so. We did meet on the worst night of both our lives.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. Fujino’s face grew haunted and Iruka almost wished he was anywhere else before shaking himself free of the errant thought.

Fujino glanced at him appraisingly. “That might be true, but you’ve made something of yourself. You’re different. Nothing like the frail little boy I carried out of the rubble of his family home.”

He gritted his teeth. Her words alone had brought the shadows of the past into the light. He watched as the walls of his new home caved in before his eyes, the faint call of his mother’s desperate voice coming from so very far away.

“And me…” Fujino stopped and sighed. “I’m no different to who I was on the night I lost Junpei.”

Seeing her the way she was: so defeated, hurt Iruka. No matter the ill-fated nature of the friendship, he liked to think that it wasn’t all bad.

“What’s wrong, Fujino?” he urged her.

Whether or not he wanted that train of thought to end for his sake or hers, he didn’t know.

She looked at him. “I can’t do this, Iruka. I can’t…”

“Do what?”

Fujino didn’t reply for a moment. “Him. Naruto Uzumaki.”

“Ah.”

Suddenly, it made so much more sense but raised just as many questions. Why now? After months of no indication that it weighed so heavily on her. But then again, Iruka was very much the same. He made it a point to shove all his feelings and thoughts so deep into the recesses of his mind knowing that one day, it would rear its ugly head.

It seemed, for Fujino, that day had come.

“He’s… nothing like I thought he’d be,” she babbled. “He’s smart, and kind, and completely impervious to all the cold stares and horrible things we all say to him and I… it’s terrible!”

“I understand, believe me, Fujino. I do.”

“Y-You do?”

Iruka nodded.

“I don’t know what to make of him. When Lord Third told me that I would be his teacher… I didn’t take it well. I mean, how could I? But being his homeroom teacher has baffled me even more. I can’t look at him without seeing something of that night. The whiskers, the slightly sharper than average teeth… and those eyes that seem to look through me.”

“But it’s wrong, Iruka!” Fujino almost wailed. “He’s just a boy!”

“...I know, Fujino,” Iruka replied and the uncomfortable silence returned.

The faint urge to throw up some kind of excuse to leave flashed across his mind – not that it was an excuse. But at the same time, leaving her to wallow around alone in this state would do her no favours, especially because she would return to teaching Naruto by the week’s end.

He cleared his throat. “How about this: I’ve got a few errands to run for the open day at the end of the week. Stick with me for a little while and see if this helps you take your mind off things.”

Brow scrunched together, Fujino opened her mouth to speak.

“Hold on now,” said Iruka. “If you’re going to tell me you need to go back home, don’t. We both know that’s the last place you need to be. If you’re not up for a busy day, at least let me treat you to some ramen.”

She clenched her jaw and eventually sighed. “Alright, fine. When do we leave?”

Smiling, he slung on his jacket and opened the door.

“Right now.”

Not much later, they ducked their heads through the blinds of the small shop. The older man beamed at him from over the counter.

“Iruka, how have you been?” said Teuchi. “You rarely come these days.”

“I know, I know.” He waddled through two stools and prompted Fujino to sit beside him. “I haven’t found the time.”

Teuchi waved him off with a familiar knowing smile.

“None of that. I’ve heard you’ve become a teacher. What happened to becoming the God of Shinobi?”

Iruka cringed a little. “That… yeah, didn’t work out.”

Fujino snorted from beside him, flushing a little when they turned to her.

“And who’s this?” Teuchi asked.

“Fujino, my colleague and friend. Fujino, this is Mr Teuchi, ramen chef extraordinaire.”

“E-Enough of that, kid. Miss… Fujino? Since you’re new here, your first meal is free of charge.”

She reached into her purse but pulled her hand back out at his glare.

“I’m glad we've come to an understanding. What'll you be having?”

Iruka waited until she rattled off a tentative of salt-flavoured ramen to ask Teuchi if he would pitch into the Academy's open day.

“I heard about that. Are you sure you want us to cater? We're a much smaller restaurant and will need quite a bit of help with supplies and costs. If I use my current stock, it won't last until the end of the month.”

“That’ll be fine. You'll be provided for. All we need is agreement from you.”

“Looks like I'll have to get the old Ramen Cart into shape.” He glanced back. “Hey, Ayame!”

“Yeah?”

Without Teuchi blocking the majority of the kitchen from view, Iruka got a good look at the people behind the counter. The usual sight of Ayame flashed across his mind. Through the open door at the back, he saw the shock of blond hair sitting at a desk in the room behind the kitchen.

Fujino looked at him, just as shocked, staring at the oblivious boy.

“Spotted Naruto, have you?” Teuchi smiled. “He’s an interesting boy. Turned up one day with a froggy wallet filled to the brim, all serious-like, and said, “What’ll this get me?”

Iruka snorted at the mental image, distinctly aware of Fujino’s discomfort from beside him. Teuchi noticed it too from the slight frown pinching his brow.

“Say, Miss Fujino, you're Naruto’s Language teacher, right?”

Her head rose sharply.

“What do you think of him?”

“I-I…he’s… strange.”

He laughed. “Right? I've never seen a kid like him. He’s quiet and keeps to himself more often than not, but he's very thoughtful too. He might not look it, what with those eyes that always look like they're picking a fight—”

Iruka couldn't help the loud snort that escaped him, nor could he stop it from growing into a laugh.

“I-I’m sorry,” he coughed. “All this time, I've been trying to find a way to describe his eyes and you've nailed it.”

Teuchi shook his head in amusement and the disturbance even drew Fujino’s gaze away from the kitchen.

“What do you think of him?” she asked.

“Who?” Teuchi asked as he slid the hot ramen bowl towards Fujino.

“Naruto.”

Iruka stopped eating from his bowl — prepared by Teuchi without the need to ask. The question was one he also wanted an answer to.

Teuchi hummed. “I’ve known Naruto for a year now so I can't claim to be an expert, but he's a kind but lonely boy. There's more to him than just those two things, but it's the best way I could answer your question.”

“No, thank you. You've given me a lot to think about.”

She frowned into her bowl with intense eyes.

Something told Iruka that he had not given her more to think about than she already had but returned to his bowl. He and Teuchi continued to hash out the details of the open day and what Teuchi could provide himself. They were done by the time they finished their bowls, which Teuchi quickly topped up.

“Since that's done, how about I tell you more about Naruto? As his teachers, I think you'd benefit from hearing more about how he thinks — though don't assume everything I say is the truth.”

Iruka shared a glance with Fujino and they leaned forward as one.

He left the bar well into the afternoon, having learned more about Naruto than ever before. It dragged at his mind while he went through the rest of the day and prepared for the open day. His feelings, on the other hand, weren't so straightforward, but the boy behind the fears and nightmares was slowly starting to form.

Whether or not Fujino saw that same boy, Iruka didn't know. From what he could see of her at work the next few days, the meal at Ichiraku’s had at least cleared some of the storminess from her face.