?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

And because I like to embarrass myself, I can't resist posting one of the worst fics in the history of Naruto fandom. I wrote it a while ago, right after rewatching 'The Mummy'. I simply couldn't resist pairing off an Evie lookalike with my favourite ninja. This was written under the assumption that men are much more uncomplicated than women like to picture them (even the hunky fictional ones) and also that few males can resist a pretty pair of... well, breasts, to be perfectly honest.

But, the execution is still crappy. Forgive me.




~Grey~




Summary: What does Kakashi really think about when he reads Icha Icha Paradise? And what are the chances that to someone, his choice of reading material might be the most interesting thing about him?






Today is a day for Icha Icha Violence. I don't know why I left the house with the wrong volume.

Contrary to popular opinion, I don't go for schoolgirls. Or little boys. And if anyone ever catches me anywhere near Iruka's hairy ass, they have my permission to thrash me to kingdom come. I swear I won't lift a finger in defense.

How I know Iruka's ass is hairy? Well, most men's are, unless they do something about it. And shinobi generally don't bother. Messy pigs, the lot of us.

Also, I saw him with his pants down just two days ago, and he was bleeding like a stuck pig. I was team leader, so I had to keep him from being gored to death in a swamp. Could the Country of the Wave be any more annoying?

The mission messed up a perfect record of ten months. Got it done, but the cost was almost too high. I'm sure I don't want to think about it just now.

I can think some more about Iruka though, seeing as he's a friend and I don't have many of those left.

Taking a kunai in the ass, now that's embarrasing. Even more when it misses the actual hole by mere inches. Lots of nerves down there. I guess the worst is having the nurses titter about you during their breaks. Would be better if any of them were young and pretty, but in reality they're middle-aged and married and their own men have gone soft from comfortable sex and home cooking.

I wish I would.

Still, the butt is better than the heart. And even then, a blade is clean; there are messier deaths out there. And kami help those who ever get captured and do not manage to overload their chakra, or crush their little pill before they are rendered completely immobile. I suppose knowing when suicide is appropriate is the hardest thing. You don't train your whole life for survival only to throw everything away the moment a situation seems hopeless. It's a well-preserved myth that all shinobi deaths take place in combat.

Now, Genma's in the room next to Iruka, but he was luckier. He has quite a gash on his right, just below the fifth rib. I know, I put it there. The other guy was not as lucky -- he died from a terminal case of kunai through the throat. Now that I think about it, it's interesting how useful taijutsu can still be.

Of course, Genma was already near-unconscious by then... no mere Chuunin idiot could have gotten close to him otherwise. Genma's one tough son of a bitch, but even one of those is Genin bait after opening the fourth gate. He's lucky to have made it out alive.

But what can I say? We crawl home, lick our wounds, and then we all go back. Because we're the best. Because the missions are important. But mostly it's because we're hooked on adrenaline and eager to know whether the next challenge will be the last.

I'm growing tired of this. Chasing your own death like that is worse that Tsunade-hime's gambling habit. Still, thinking like this is a bad sign. Twenty-seven and I feel old already, worn out. It doesn't help that even Icha-Icha Paradise is leaving me with nothing more than a bitter aftertaste, because I know there are no lush, needy females in my future. There haven't been for a long time. Little girls still find me attractive, but the women have long since learned that Genin make the better husbands -- they're home more often and they live longer. And there aren't enough women here as it is.

Given all that, it's not surprising that I'm not the only one reading Jiraiya's perverted little outpourings. Every damn male from Chuunin upwards is. They're reading and jerking themselves off to it in the dingy rat holes they call home that is. I'm just the only one doing his reading in the open, mainly because there's nothing that puts teenaged girls off the scent better than cries of 'adult hentai'. Also, doing this in front of witnesses keeps me from dropping my pants on the spot and going at it myself.

I'm not stone. The sun is warm on my skin, the mask is stifling like never before, and I feel like killing something just to take my mind off things. Is that the reason why I've taken the dusty road through the field, Jirayia's novel held open before me like a shield? I don't think I'm looking bored now.

I feel murderous.

I also feel...

A presence.

Sadly, it's no one in need of skewering. I guess if I wanted action, I should have gone beyond the walls.

I don't need to look up from Icha-Icha Paradise to know that a girl is walking towards me, a heavy pile of books balanced awkwardly on her slender arms. Don't need to look to know she's smaller than me -- approximately five foot two from the sound of her steps -- sweetly rounded in all the right places, with a long riot of dark curls spilling down her back and cinnamon skin that smells like sunshine, and probably tastes like it, too.

Her steps have the cadence of one lost in thought and her slim-framed glasses are slipping down her nose. There is a small hitch in her step as she finally notices the obstacle in her path -- me -- and even then her gaze first goes to the slim volume I hold in my hand before flying to my face. Her own face is changing temperature, her chakra in a small uproar. She's blushing.

I finally raise my head.

She's surprisingly cute -- adorable even -- in a distracted, intellectual sort of way. A dreamer, certainly. Perhaps a scientist, if the heavy tome entitled 'Chakra Morphogenesis' is a sample of her reading preference.

Definitely not much of a ninja and not at all sad about it, which is a rare enough occurrence in a Hidden Village. Getting home and opening the books she carries is foremost in her mind if the bouncy eagerness she displays whenever she looks down at her load is any indication.

For the first time in a long while, I give someone my full attention.

She's finally noticed that we're both just standing there, in the middle of the road no less -- not that anyone is likely to come by on a hot summer afternoon like this -- and the rosy blush returns. But there's a spark of interest in her eyes too as she sneaks another look at the lurid cover of my lecture material.

It's a book, her eyes seem to say. It can't be all bad... I wonder if he'll let me have a look.
I can tell the exact moment when her manners tell her that after this much silent staring, an introduction might be in order. Her colour spikes to a deeper hue.

"Uh," she says, attempting to move the huge pile of books to a one-armed hold and failing. "This is so embarrassing," she mutters then, looking down at her toes which causes the glasses to slip further, threatening to sail to the dusty ground.

I bite back a smile and take most of the pile off her. Unlike her, I have no trouble balancing them in a one-handed hold and still marking the page in Icha Icha Paradise with a two-fingered grip. But then again, I have no trouble slitting throats and she looks like she wouldn't want to harm a fly, so I guess it's not a fair comparison.

Her mouth is frozen in a small O of surprise -- doesn't she know that she lives in a shinobi village? -- but she recovers quickly and stretches out the free hand in greeting. "I'm Tomoe," she stammers, reminding me of Hinata. "Isesaki Tomoe."

I guess no one has ever taken the trouble to show off for her. What a sad lot of snobs we are.

I squeeze her fingers gently, trying to remind myself that I have three students waiting for me and that if I hurry, I can even make it in time for once.

She catches her lower lip between her teeth and the thought evaporates like dew in the sunshine.

"Hatake Kakashi," I say, wondering how my voice sounds even deeper than usual, maybe even a little hoarse.

"I know. I've read about you!" she says with an excited little breath before she can catch herself. "I mean... it's a pleasure." Her gaze goes automatically back to examining her toes, which are still cute and topped with small nails that look rosy against her tan.

Her glasses have given up the fight. I catch them, because she can't with her hand still trapped in mine, and slide them back on her nose before she has time to grow even more embarrassed than she already is.

"Thank you," she murmurs, and then she's nibbling on her lip again while looking directly into my eyes with open admiration.

This day is really growing too hot for comfort. Long suppressed urges are struggling to the surface, and even I have only so much control over the barrelling of too-long ignored hormones against my defenses. I swear, if she doesn't stop worrying those lips I'll show her how it's done properly.

She stops. "I've really read a lot about you," she says and then shakes her head, obviously frustrated with her phrasing. "I would like to talk some time, if that's all right with you. You see, I'm studying energy jutsus that focus chakra in a certain way, Chidori is particularly interesting, and I think some of them can be used for regenerative purposes in hopeless cases, even in the field..." she breaks off, flustered as she realizes what she's saying. She knows she's never been 'in the field', as she puts it, and I have. She's never watched friends die around her, and then acquaintances because one's run out of friends, and then children too young to even be out there.

I know why I didn't pass anyone before Naruto and his gang came along. Ah, I'm deluding myself again. I was a Chuunin at six, reached my peak at sixteen, and now I'm past my prime and I know it. Children are the only ones mad enough to give themselves so fully to a purpose and mistake it for heroism.

"I'm sorry," she says, still holding my gaze, and I wonder what she sees in there.

"You shouldn't be," I answer, because it's obvious she's trying to do her part, and judging by the blazing intelligence in her eyes, she just might succeed. "Chidori, eh?" I'll have to see some identification before I tell her anything about that.

"I was rambling."

"Not at all." I like her serious, chagrin over her social awkwardness forgotten in the face of deeper embarrassment. "You're one of Tsunade's girls?"

She nods. I don't think she's lying, or a spy. I'll check anyway, because she just might be a bit too airheaded to be real, but generally I trust my instincts.

"If you have time for a cup of ramen, we could talk over lunch," I say. Doesn't mean I'll tell her anything worth shit, but I'll get to look at her a little more. The breasts stretching the soft cotton of her dress are definitely Icha Icha Paradise material.

Her widening eyes are lively and hopeful. "Really?"

I smile at her through the mask. It chafes my face in the heat, and for a moment I wonder if I should take it off. The area is deserted, after all. I shake off the impulse, aware of how unusual it is.

I take the rest of the books off her and smile again as she looks up at me with the same eagerness she seems to reserve only for stacks of paper otherwise.

"Ichiraku?" I ask, stepping closer.

She nods and we set off in the direction of the main streets where buildings blur behind a veil of hot air. I notice that she's trying to look around me from time to time, eyes darting to the novel that still sways in a loose two-fingered hold. I can see she's gathering her courage by the way her lips press together.

I am entirely too fascinated with her mouth when I should stare at her full breasts, which are dewy and deliciously beaded with sweat in the sweltering heat.

"Could... Can I have a look?" she bursts out finally.

Heh. Girl wants to see my etchings.

I grin down at her and I know there's no mistaking the curving of my mouth even through the mask that clings to my skin. "Perhaps later."

She's close enough to smell both me and her dusty books, and her gaze flickers to the muscles flexing in my forearm and then back to the book. It would be just like a female to crave a look at the dirty little magazine for years but never gather the courage to buy one. Judging by the air of casual innocence that surrounds her like perfume, that might just apply to men as well.

I'm quite sure that doesn't mean she hasn't looked, or dreamed. She's aware enough of me, she's just too shy to look properly. But I can see her nostrils flare, taking in the smell of heated skin, stained kunai metal and what are quite certainly pheromones I must be putting out like mad by now, and her eyes darken a little with beginning heat. It's definitely too tempting to resist.

"Definitely later," I amend, wondering whether she'll catch the innuendo or if it will sail right over her bright little head. I wonder if she's ever had more than messy romps with unexperienced teenaged boys. I wonder if she's even had those.

She cranes her neck to look up at me. "Really?" she repeats, apparently giddy at the prospect of unwrapping one Hatake Kakashi on his pile of naughty magazines sometime later this evening. I hope she doesn't think that reading dirty novels together can have any other outcome than hot, sweaty sex. She might be one of those females who think it's possible to have a platonic frienship with a man.

I hope not. In my experience the only difference is whether it's resolved or unresolved sexual tension. The rest are mere technicalities.

I take her hand and she leans a little into me, still looking up with the glowing eyes of an eager kitten. I grin down at her, quite sure that my usually bored gaze must have changed to utterly lecherous in the meantime.

"Really," I drawl.

That evening I kiss her. She likes it enough to share my own dingy hole of a flat for the rest of the night, though I can tell she hasn't done this very often. But I can also tell I am not what she seeks, and her own sweetness hasn't rendered me quite mindless enough to risk a deeper entanglement.

But even if we agreed that it would not go beyond that one time the experience has been both fiery and soothing. I like to think that's because it was special and not because I was so desperate for a fuck that anything would have seemed like heaven.

Well. If the pain of abstinence will be even greater now, with a fresh memory of what I'm missing imprinted on my mind and the scent of her still lingering in the sheets, this has still alleviated both our loneliness somewhat; my life certainly seems less gloomy than before. So if I stop at the library from time to time and wander through the aisles of forbidden scrolls it is merely a coincidence when I catch the occasional glimpse of her -- it's even more of a coincidence that she always rushes over and we share a secret smile that we cover with casual words.

And for now, it is enough.



- THE END

Comments

( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
essie07
Jun. 28th, 2004 07:00 pm (UTC)
aww, it's not bad at all! Have you really read some of the fandom's worst? I shudder at the thought of some of the things I've read. I thought it was cute and pshaw, your Kakashi was damn funny.

Yay for hetero-Kakashi. I'm not against yaoi pairings, but I like Kakashi's clarification for people pairing him with Iruka.

Hairy ass. SNERK!
technoelfie
Jun. 29th, 2004 11:01 am (UTC)
I dunno... for some reason Kakashi getting it on with an OC reeks of Mary-Sue, and that's just as true when I'm writing it. But I simply couldn't resist the urge to make him this utterly hetero male. Dunno -- I guess there must be at least some left. If I'm to believe my boyfriend there are more hetero males around than yaoi fangirls would lead one to believe. :P

However, this doesn't mean that any shag with a woman automatically translates to twu wuw. This one didn't. :)
hardlyfatal
Jun. 29th, 2004 05:44 am (UTC)
Again with the self-bashing? I won't have it. Stop right now, or spankings will follow. And not the fun kind, either.

This was wonderful, I enjoyed it v. much. Humourous, sensual. Excellent job.
technoelfie
Jun. 29th, 2004 11:05 am (UTC)
Hmm, thanks... You're a sweetie, as always. I thought the language might be too coarse. Besides, it's not really well-developed. Ah well.
wicked_innuendo
Jul. 1st, 2004 01:07 am (UTC)
But, the execution is still crappy. Forgive me.

You need to give yourself more credit. That was a very enjoyable little oneshot. You have a way with original characters, that keeps them fresh and real, a far cry from those blehhh Mary Sues that plaugue fanfiction like halitosis nowadays. My inner hentai wishes there was a little more smut and it would've been nice to read this this morning with a steaming cup of hot coffee, but I ran out yesterday. But, yes..very nice!

I've been helluva busy lately, barely posting or leaving comments, but I wanted to add that your Inuyasha fanart from your recent posts are just absolutely gorgeous! The Sesh/Kag kiss is my desktop background.
technoelfie
Jul. 2nd, 2004 07:27 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for the encouragement! I'm really uncomfortable about my writing, especially when I respect the characters. I keep having this constant feeling that I'm not doing them justice. And original characters are always tricky, particularly female ones. That's one of the reasons why I've left away the actual smut.

But, I've paired off Tomoe with Genma in my next Naruto story, the one which I'll probably never finish. Although I'll try -- Genma gets too little fandom love.

On another note, I'm happy you like my art! I'm really trying to improve my technique, but I've been too busy to do long sittings lately. I really wish I'd be able to spend two or three days on one single image. *sigh*
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )