All alone wishing on stars
Waiting for you to find me
One sweet night I knew I would see
A stranger who'd be my friend
Look for the rainbow in the sky
I believe you and I
Could never really say goodbye
Wherever you may be
I'll look up and see
Someone in the dark for me
("Someone in the dark", Michael Jackson)
--
- One year later -
Fall.
Nobuko and Iruka bake a chocolate cake for Zak's thirteenth birthday.
It is burned and a little weird-tasting, because Iruka mistook salt for sugar, and Nobuko ate most of the chocolate anyway.
It is the best cake of Zak's entire life.
After dinner they climb up the former Hokages' carving, and sit there, alone and together in the chilly night. Watching the stars.
Nobuko's head lolls slightly to the side, and rests eventually on Iruka's left shoulder. She drools a little.
Zak takes his right hand, intertwines their fingers. Traces scout signs in Iruka's palm with his thumb.
'Forever?'
Iruka trembles a little. Memories. Promise, dad, promise you'll be there forever. Yes, Iruka. Forever.
He answers in the same fashion.
'Forever.'
Zak smiles, even though Iruka can't see it. He leans against his companion and squeezes his hand. Soon his even breathing joins Nobuko's light snores.
In silence, Iruka contemplate the sky.
Forever is just a word.
--
Winter.
Iruka and Nobuko loves snow fights. Zak smiles, clearly amused. He often is, these days.
But he's not a very playful kind of boy. He prefers watching them from afar.
Nobuko and Iruka are almost polar opposites, he muses.
She's brash, loud, vulgar. Red, flaming, provocative. Quick to anger, long to forgive. Warming.
He's shy, honest, loyal to a fault. Blue, thinking, contemplative. Mischievous, but a little too clueless, perhaps. Sparkling.
Both are desperate for attention.
Nobuko is all flashy colors, low-cut, skintight dresses, and naughty pouts. What she can't protect, she discloses to open view.
Iruka is the biggest prankster in the history of Konoha; Jeren-sensei being his not-so-innocent favorite victim. His behavior often earns him nasty bruises from said teacher, but that doesn't not really subdue him.
Zak sometimes wonders if anything could tame his unruly friends.
A snowball lands square on his face.
Talk about a stupid question.
--
Spring.
Another year, another notch on Iruka and Nobuko's belts.
Things around here haven't changed much.
At fifteen, Iruka looks pretty much like the first time they met, Zak thinks. Taller, perhaps, but still lean and smiling and all hyperactive grace.
Only his eyes are much darker.
Iruka is too intense, too emotional. He takes everything and everyone to heart. The good and the bad. The sour and the sweet.
The joy and the the pain.
One day, it will be too much. Zak only hopes he will be there for him when he breaks.
Zak hopes he will be there every single day of Iruka's life.
--
Summer.
"Look, there goes Dumb-Ass and his little baby-sitters."
"My father said cripples shouldn't be allowed in the Academy," drawls another voice. "But then, if it was me, there wouldn't that many Genins to begin with."
"Che," snorts a young, black-haired woman. "Don't bother. No point insulting that freak anyway. I bet a donkey would be cleverer than him."
Zak does not answer. It does not touch him, he just feels a little out of place. After a while, it did not upset him anymore.
He walks on, unconcerned. Stops when he notices Nobuko and Iruka's murderous expressions.
"What's your problem, Anko-bitch? Missing your lovely snake teacher, perhaps?"
"What's your problem, Nobuko-bitch?" mocks the other girl in a singsong voice. "Tired of spreading your legs around, already?"
Nobuko's eyes widen. She draws a shuriken. "Why, you ..."
A firm grip on her arm. She turns around.
Zak shakes his head. The edge of his hand comes down on his palm, and moves quickly away with the fingers spreading.
'Stop. Waste of time.'
The N handshape circles and lands on the back of his wrist.
'Typical.'
Iruka answers in the same fashion, his fingers moving quickly in opposite directions.
'But!'
Anko and her comrades watche, gaping a little.
"He ..."
"He understands everything you say," spits Nobuko bitterly. "Every fucking thing."
'Nobuko, Iruka. Let's go,' Zak motions, almost pleading, 'please.'
Usually he shortens their name to "Ko" and "Ru", making it easier to fingerspell. That he doesn't do so is a measure of how insistent he is.
The two Genins draw back with a visible effort of will. Glare at the other Team.
Her hands on her hips, Anko smirks.
"Yes," she scoffs, "run away, little ones. Unless you want to fight?"
Team One, trained by the infamous Orochimaru-sensei himself.
Iruka and his friends are clearly outmatched.
They know it.
Team One knows it.
Iruka swallows audibly. On his left side, Nobuko tenses, eyes narrowing in anticipation. Zak merely looks resigned.
The six Genins draw their weapons.
"What's going on here?" thunders a throaty voice.
For what is probably the first, and last, time in their life, Team Twelve is very happy to see their teacher.
Jeren-sensei is big and heavy and his Konoha sigil gleams in the bright sunlight.
"Always looking for trouble, are you, Mitarashi?"
He snorts.
"Get out my sight, you sorry lot."
Anko glowers. Doesn't move an inch. Testing the waters.
"Girl," he growls, "don't try me."
Reluctantly, she sheathes back her kunai. Vanishes in a puff of smoke. Her companions follow suite.
The remaining Genins beams winningly.
Maybe their teacher isn't so bad, after all.
"And you, Team Twits," asks Jeren-sensei gruffly, "don't you have anything better to do?"
He throws them a dirty look and turns away. Not before he cuffs Iruka once, for good measure.
Then again, maybe not.
--
Fall.
On a rooftop, Iruka and Nobuko 'sing' the infamous birthday song.
'Happyyyy birthhhdayyy!'
Hands up the chest. Then one sliding under the other. Arm horizontal, a palm coming to rest onto the opposite elbow.
'Off key,' comments Zak blankly. There's a world of soft, strangled words he would like to whisper.
Instead, he just stares at his feet, throat painfully tight because he can't set his mind on whether to laugh or cry.
Zak looks up, surprised to feel Iruka's hands on his. And Nobuko's on his eyes.
'Don't you want your surprise?' writes Iruka in his palm.
The smaller boys nods. Shakily.
He never knows what to expect with those two.
Nobuko still blindfolding him, Iruka leads him through the steepest part of Konoha. At least, that's what he assumes, what with all those steps and slops they make him climb.
His companions don't really realize the level of trust it implies for Zak to let them deprive him of his sight.
He feels very vulnerable. Tightens his grip on Iruka's hands. Gets a reassuring squeeze in return.
Suddenly, Nobuko removes her hands.
In front of him, Iruka strikes a theatrical pause.
"Tada!"
He always had a flair for dramatics, Zak muses.
"Well," says Nobuko, almost gently, "what are you waiting for? Open it."
Zak, puzzled, looks around for a present. Finds none.
"The door, you idiot."
Iruka, smiling like a maniac, points behind him.
Zak whirls around so fast he very nearly gets whiplash.
There it is, plain, almost shabby, a wooden door.
Very, very slowly, he turns the brass handle.
The flat behind it is tiny, dusty and a complete mess.
It is perfect.
Shell-shocked, Zak turns back to his friends. Finds a dangling set of keys in front of his face.
"Took us forever to gather the money, but we wanted you to have it on your fourteenth birthday. What with you being of age, and stuff ..."
Nobuko is particularly hopeless with expressing her feelings. Even worse than Iruka.
But she seems moved, openly moved. That's very rare with her.
"It's not that great, but it's better than staying at your father's, I guess, so ..."
Iruka stops when he notices Zak's amber eyes are brimming with tears.
Ninjas don't cry.
"Welcome home, Zak," he breathes softly.
The boy trembles lightly.
But kids do, sometimes.
--
Winter.
Iruka decides they will take part to the next Chuunin examination, in summer. They can be ready if they train hard.
Nobuko glowers, but her eyes are shining all the same.
They are not prized students like Team One, or Team Four. They don't believe in themselves - it is hard to be self-confident misfits.
Team Twelve is aware of its disastrous reputation. "Team Twits" is but one of Jeren-sensei 'affectionate' nicknames for them.
None of them are genius.
But they have talent. Especially as a team.
Nobuko is still taller and stronger than both boys. "Not hard," she reminds them playfully every so often. Hotheaded, bursting with energy, Taijutsu is the only field she feels wholly at ease with. She's not really an intellectual.
Zak, on the other hand, delights in the more arduous subtleties of Genjutsu and Ninjutsu. He's a born-planner, ingenious if sometimes too careful.
Iruka probably is the more balanced element of their closely-knit group. His warm, unconsciously charismatic persona brings an element of stability to Nobuko's fierce temper, an element of security to Zak's overprotective character.
He's quick to think on his feet, and has an all in all terrifying tendency to get into trouble. His greatest strength, however, lies in his shocking visual memory. Of fairly average skill in most fields, Iruka has developed his Ninjutsu capacities along with his mastery of the sign language. He aces in both.
Nobuko 'speaks' fluently enough, but the minute shifts of the body, the most refined subtleties elude her.
With Iruka, Zak can express himself fully. There is no place for lies between them: what spoken language allow of dissimulation isn't even possible with such a form of communication.
They have learnt to read each other's eyes, dark chocolate against golden amber, the little imp and the deaf-mute.
One day, sitting back to back in a tree, hand in hand, Zak draws something in his palm.
'Thank you.'
'What for?'
'Being there.'
Iruka stills.
'I will always be there,' he answers at last.
Hoping, with all his heart, that it is true.
--
Spring.
Jeren-sensei becomes a father. He names his child after the village.
Konohamaru.
He even allows Team Twelve to see him.
Iruka and Nobuko don't really understand what their teacher is so proud of. It's just a baby, all red and wrinkled and a little smelly.
Very loud, at that.
The Hokage, too, looks ridiculously pleased with the wailing little thing.
Zak shares his companions' indifference, but knows better than to say so.
Iruka is not that wise.
Jeren-sensei would not dare hit him in front of his own father. Iruka is perfectly aware of that.
He's not suicidal, after all.
--
Summer.
Jeren-sensei refuses to nominate them for the Chuunin exam. They would only manage to embarrass him, he grunts.
Iruka pleads. Rages. Begs.
They have worked hard. They have improved. And no thanks to him, he adds viciously.
Not to avail.
Iruka refuses to admit defeat. Decides, grimly, to resort to extremes measures.
He begins following Jeren-sensei around. Everywhere. All the time.
Singing his head off like a demented bird.
Silly songs.
Off-key.
After a week of "the Singing Treatment of Doom", as Team Twelve calls it, the Jounin gives in.
The whole village, minus Zak for obvious reasons, breathe a deep sigh of relief.
Not for long.
Jeren-sensei nominates Nobuko and Iruka. Leaving Zak out pointedly.
A personal vengeance against Iruka, self-appointed protector of the deaf-mute boy.
The Chuunin exam is too dangerous for a cripple, the teacher states winningly. Skilled or not.
Seething at his own naiveté, Iruka delves once more into the Konoha library.
Comes out with a triumphant smile. And bleak eyes.
Nothing forbids a disabled ninja to become Chuunin, Jounin, or even Hokage.
Because none has ever lived to see adulthood.
Iruka tries not to shudder at the perspective.
Fails miserably.
Team Twelve, law book in hand, brings to the matter to Sandaime.
Jeren-sensei, seething, bows to his father's decision.
Zak is deliriously happy. His companions have a hard time following his enthusiastic motions.
The last weeks before the exam are spent in a feverish haze of last-minute revisions.
On the dreaded day, Nobuko is so anxious she nibbles off her artfully painted nails. Iruka walks back and forth like a caged panther, tugging on his ponytail to alleviate his stress. Zak sits quietly, eager and maybe a little worried.
The written test is dreadfully - and purposely, but they don't know that - difficult. Nobuko cheats shamelessly. Using her charms to distract her victim. Under the table, she fingerspells the answers to her companions.
Iruka doesn't approve of such methods, but what else is there?
They pass.
The second test is spent in the forest. They feel more at ease. Especially Iruka.
It is not unusual for them to complete missions without their sensei.
Quite the contrary.
Sign language, once again, proves to be a most useful asset. A discreet, efficient mean of communication.
They pass.
The last test is composed of duels.
Iruka fights Sayaka Megumi, a tall blonde girl with gentle eyes. He sees easily through her Genjutsu techniques. Feels very thankful to Zak all of a sudden to have trained him against such attacks.
Nobuko is opposed to Rei Myoshi. Tall, bulky, smug. Cracks his knuckles and smiles arrogantly until Nobuko's punch sends him flying. Nobuko wins quickly. Covered in bruises, and missing one of her molars.
Both Genins watches anxiously Zak readying himself. Gripping the railing.
Their friend is pitted against Kazuko Chiharu. Average height, average beauty, and probably average strength.
The duel lasts twenty terrible minutes.
They are an almost perfect match. None of them seemingly gaining advantage over the other.
Seemingly.
With his usual patience, Zak wears down his opponent. Feinting, dodging, feinting again.
He eventually knocks her out. A well-calculated kick.
He whirls around to face his companions. A brilliant, dazzling grin.
'Did you see? I did it! I knew I ...'
Zak never finishes his motion.
Behind him, the girl has got up.
"We are not done yet!" she screams furiously.
The kunai flies with an eerie whizzing sound.
But Zak cannot hear it.
The weapon embeds itself neatly in his neck.
His amber eyes widen. His smile fades, wiped by the sudden onslaught of pain.
Zak collapses on the cold stone slabs.
Angry red blood pools around his motionless body.
As silent in death as he was in life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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