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08 September 2010 @ 08:12 pm
Classroom  
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: General/Friendship
Characters: Kiba, Hinata, Shino
Pairings: Suggested Kiba/Hinata, Shino/Hinata
Warnings: None

Notes:
Quite an old one-shot now; posted to prove that I'm still aware that I have this blog/because it's schooltime again. ='( B'aww. Will post a few new oneshots soon hopefully.

The class was all but silent, save for the light banter and some of the harsher strokes of pencil across paper. Iruka found himself guiltlessly doing next to no work at all as he sat back comfortably in his chair, feet reclined leisurely underneath the desk. He had never really realised how well this class could behaved if they really put their minds to it.

The sun was high in the sky and he was enjoying the rays that spread through the mud printed windows. Life was good as he waited for his coffee to cool and his chair to warm; soaking in the unusually calm and loose atmosphere like the lapping waves of a sparkling ocean in the summer.

He really didn't want to jinx it; honestly…however, something just wasn't right about the level of quiet he was experiencing. Most of the children's heads were down, scribbling furiously as they each cunningly worked on self-proclaimed master-pieces with the help of numerous crayon packs that circulated the desks; a few conferring with their alleys from time to time to make sure that the stick men looked just right, and that two hair ribbons really were better than one.

No - although the idea that he may have finally gotten through to them that working paid of more than talking and throwing stuff around the classroom wasn't as fun as it seemed – he knew that this was not the victory that would end the war. Something was off about the way they interacted with one another; like the fun had suddenly been drained from shooting spit balls at the aisle below, or the girl whose hair was long enough to be tied to the chair she was sitting in without her even realising until she tried to chase after her stolen pencil case.

Even Naruto was…unusually quiet…seeing as he wasn't even in his SEAT!

Where was that little…! …absent. Alright, so maybe that was one of the reasons why everything was so quiet. Maybe the class generally was interested in working. Maybe he was over analysing things. Maybe his coffee had finally cooled down to a drinkable temperature. Maybe…just maybe.

At the back of the class, Kiba struggled to keep his eyes open, despite the unbearably suffocating silence that was the collective noise of deep concentration. The notion that he should probably have fixed that problem by now crossed his mind– unfortunately, his eyes just didn't seem to care for his predicament at all. There were people to the sides and below that all had theie eyes open…probably had had breakfast…maybe even a few hours sleep…that's where he was going wrong, he was sure.

His eyelids felt like a tonne of led bricks that had sunk six miles underwater; the chewed up pencil in his limp hand sitting patiently waiting for Kiba to start carving his ideas down onto the pristine paper that sat perfectly before him in a snooty, unblemished manner. If he were fully awake, that paper would not only have had to taste the cold hard tang of graphite as it was mercilessly assaulted with every doodle that had already been dug out of the wooden desk in front of him - but it would also have had to die a slow agonising death as it was brutally balled up and hurled at the nearest unsuspecting blond - either Ino, or on good day, Naruto.

With his head lolling around from side to side occasionally, and a sliver of drool escaping his slack jaw to dribble down his chin unceremoniously, he vaguely wondered why no one had commented on it, let alone done something. Someone could have jumped him, snuck up beside him to bellow a wake up call in his highly sensitive ears, thrown something at him, anything…but nothing. Not a single glance or mention as far as his semi-alert conscience could tell. Things really weren't going well.

In fact, today sucked. It sucked big time. The usually speedy dash to school on all fours so as to arrive painfully late while still helping to get the blood pumping, had become a sloth like drag that not only had brought him to school early, but had also earned him 'helper' status, as he was immediately assigned to give out the class materials for the day with little to no enthusiasm what so ever.

Of course Iruka sensei had picked up on the fact that Kiba was half heartedly flinging the pieces of paper to there roughly targeted destinations with no real conviction, and, like the good old sensei that he was, the chuunin made him pick up every sheet of paper and painstakingly set each one perfectly straight, smack bang in the middle of every desk.

He wasn't sure exactly what was keeping him awake, or why he hadn't just bailed out of there when Iruka sensei had left to get his coffee for the morning, but whatever it was, it had already been cursed and damned to every version of hell he could think of, with the exception of the classroom itself of course. That was a worse fate that seemed to have been especially reserved for him.

He snorted slightly as he felt something tap him lightly on the arm, but he didn't move. Probably the wind…from underneath the door…or something.

The tap went away for a while then came back, as a slight poke. He growled. Stupid cheap door. Couldn't do anything right. It was even making a noise….a slight whisper. It sounded human. Maybe someone was yodelling in the next country.

Kiba suddenly felt the urge to hit someone. Maybe the person making the noise. Maybe the thing poking his arm. Whichever was closer. They were invading his dozing time and deserved to be stopped from such evil manipulation. It was a conspiracy, he could tell.

To his languid dismay, the noise grew louder over a period of 5 minutes and he was sure it was the poke that accompanied it every 10 seconds. Kiba's fuse was out and he could take no more.
The evil would be stopped!

His arm lashed out from the side scrappily and clawed into thin air, earning a slight squeak and the distinct smell of fear. Heavy and putrid with a hint of adrenaline. His sheet of paper had drifted away like a parachute in its smug and mocking manner; floating with some kind of paper smirk.

He was going to maul it like no shredder ever could.

The smell was still fresh, and his eyes lifted with all the strength they could muster to track it down. He looked around blearily and yawned, trying to work the kinks out of his legs with a good stretch. Looking to the left slightly, he froze; legs still out stiffly and his back arched slightly.

Beside him, a stunned, cold sweating Hinata stared at him like he'd suddenly brandished a chain saw and slid on a ski mask with matching blood stains; her eyes wide and arms up in an instinctive attempt to protect herself. She was shrunk back and on the edge of her seat, pencil long forgotten. He suddenly realised that he had probably just attacked her. Or at least, that's how she probably saw it. She was obviously quite upset and he couldn't believe that she even looked like she might cry.

Hinata shrunk back a little more so that she looked even smaller and swallowed; waiting for him to make his next move like a deer in the headlights.

Iruka-sensei seemed unawares to the scene and continued to drink his latte with his feet perched comfortably on the desk. Today really was…

Waahaaah!

The coffee in his hands slipped and crashed to the floor; liquid jumping away from the shooting porcelain only to reacquaint itself with them when gravity took its toll seconds later.

Everyone turned round towards the back aisle to stare at Kiba with accusing and curious glances, whispering with a sense of conspiracy only children could be blessed with.
Kiba held on to his knee in pure agony while wrestling with himself in his chair, wriggling and yelping as he tried to stop the sting that made itself known over and over and over again in his back. It was like something was eating him alive.

It didn't help that he had jumped so high when the first bout of pain came either, hence the resounding crack of his knee cap against the table and how he was drawn to tending to his knee or ripping his coat off to roll around the floor in an attempt to stop the splintering pain in his back, all over his back. Whatever had decided to attack him, it was doing it well!

A chorus of laughter and howling broke out as they watched Kiba throw himself around recklessly due to an unseen force that was making a meal out of him as they looked on.
The foot-stamping laughter continued as Iruka moved in to help the struggling boy as he waded through the chairs and desks of some careless students that had stood up to get a better view.

On the last row, Shino watched Kiba howl and jerk in pain; a slight smirk hidden behind his collar.