#lal01

Not that he would actually go through with it, because Iruka might be impetuous and hotheaded for a ninja but he doesn’t have an outright death wish, but the fantasy is enough to keep him going. He’s damnably bored; his waking hours had been filled with work and more work for his entire adult life, and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a chance to sit around and sulk like a child.

Now he’s stuck in the train station, having just missed the previous train, and Iruka is uncomfortably bored again. 

Looking for something to do, out of habit Iruka reaches into the utility pocket of his uniform pants — and bites down the urge to scream when he retrieves the sporks-snapped-into-shivs that the scientists replaced his actual fucking weapons with. But they’re better than nothing, and to keep his hands used to the feeling of handling a weapon he begins to toss and spin one like he would an actual knife in one hand.

It’s only when a blue-haired woman steps into his peripheral vision that Iruka remembers he’s in public, and that perhaps playing with pointy things isn’t the best, nonthreatening image to present to strangers.

“Uh,” he says, like the competent and confident adult that he is. “Sorry about that?” He’s not even sure he needs to be sorry — he’s hardly the only soldier in this city —but better safe than accused of being threatening in the damn train station.