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Description
Crappy Days

He never told her, and she would have laughed if he had, but he knew the exact moment he found out he was in love with her.

He had had the crappiest day in his life. He had arrived from a mission with his team which they had barely survived in one piece, and as soon as he was out of the hospital, he was thrust into the classroom to teach thirty five-year-olds who wouldn't stop screaming, and when he finished that, he was readily presented with a pile of paperwork the size of the Hokage tower due in two hours. He had, by a miracle, managed to get out of that alive, and headed towards his parents house for some good home-made comforting meal, only to arrive in the middle of one of his mother's fits. His ears rung for hours after that. The fact that she had made him fix everything in the house because his father was making a show of his "old age" didn't help. He had managed to sneak out while the two of them were bickering about a guest room on the second floor.

He was heading home to his small, cozy, familiar, empty apartment, where the only one who could annoy him was the neighbour's cat breaking in through the window, thinking that the day was finally over and, well, it couldn't get any worse than that.

Ino caught him midway, dragged him to a bar and made him sit and listen to all her boy problems, and when she was done with that, Kiba arrived and decided to talk to him about all his girl problems, and when he had finished, he had stood up and left, leaving the double bill unpaid. And right when he was leaving, Gai and Lee jumped up out of nowhere and decided that he would be the next lucky victim of their flash intensive uber exclusive drop-dead-awesome training.

He wasn't feeling his legs after that. Or his arms. Or his shoulders. The only thing he could feel was his head, which pounded in an ever growing headache. Naruto didn't make it any better talking his ass off, or Sakura when she started screaming at him.

When Iruka saw him and lifted his hand to call his attention, he couldn't help it. He took off running in the opposite direction.

He finally, finally, managed to arrive home, fishing the key from his pocket and opening the door quickly, afraid anybody else would see him and kidnap him again. He stepped into the house hurriedly, and slammed the door behind him, leaning against it for a minute, thinking he was safe now.

That was when a yellow blur rushed in his direction and jumped on him, almost tackling him in the process. He swayed for a moment, before gaining balance and pulling the figure back by the shoulders to stare at it.

Her familiar teal eyes were staring at him in guilt and exasperation.

"I'm sorry!" she gushed uncharacteristically. He stared at her in confusion. "I'm so sorry! I was sneaking in, I didn't see it, then the cat showed up and startled me and when I saw, it was already broken! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it meant that much to you!" he blinked repeatedly, before saying slowly:
"What are you talking about?" she opened her mouth and closed it several times, before looking at him questioningly.
"You mean you don't know about the..." she stopped herself and grinned cheerfully "Nothing!"
"Temari..." he whispered in a tired voice. She sighed and grabbed his hand.

She dragged him to the bedroom, and stopped close to the bed, pointing dejectedly at something on the floor, by the window. There, at his feet, lied the shards of the flower vase his mother had given him as a moving away gift three years back. The vase she had brought from one of her rare trips out of the Fire country, with all the thoughtfulness of a mother who remembers her son. The dark brown, finely painted, horrid looking vase he'd been trying to get rid of for years.

He looked up at her, at her messy blonde hair, her wrinkled clothes, her wide green eyes full of shame and remorse.

And he started laughing.

Uncontrollably.

He cracked up.

Her face flushed in anger and she slapped his arm in indignance.

"What's so funny?"
"You… Should have seen your face!" he choked between laughter. She frowned.
"You mean you're not angry?" he laughed even harder.
"Angry? I've been trying to get rid of that ugly thing for ages! And you were looking… So guilty!" she huffed, crossing her arms and turning her chin away in embarrassment.
"Well, sorry for caring!" she declared crossly.

He stopped laughing, catching his breath, but maintaining a smile. He had been having the crappiest day of his life, and just when he felt like shooting himself, he arrived home to find her there, fussing over something ridiculous, making him laugh and making him forget the bad things.

It was in that exact moment that it struck him that he wouldn't have minded coming home everyday to that. And maybe, just maybe, if he did it right, he could.

"Oi, what are you doing? Why are you in your thinking position? Hey! Are you going to answer me? Crazy man…"

Description
Crappy Days

He never told her, and she would have laughed if he had, but he knew the exact moment he found out he was in love with her.

He had had the crappiest day in his life. He had arrived from a mission with his team which they had barely survived in one piece, and as soon as he was out of the hospital, he was thrust into the classroom to teach thirty five-year-olds who wouldn't stop screaming, and when he finished that, he was readily presented with a pile of paperwork the size of the Hokage tower due in two hours. He had, by a miracle, managed to get out of that alive, and headed towards his parents house for some good home-made comforting meal, only to arrive in the middle of one of his mother's fits. His ears rung for hours after that. The fact that she had made him fix everything in the house because his father was making a show of his "old age" didn't help. He had managed to sneak out while the two of them were bickering about a guest room on the second floor.

He was heading home to his small, cozy, familiar, empty apartment, where the only one who could annoy him was the neighbour's cat breaking in through the window, thinking that the day was finally over and, well, it couldn't get any worse than that.

Ino caught him midway, dragged him to a bar and made him sit and listen to all her boy problems, and when she was done with that, Kiba arrived and decided to talk to him about all his girl problems, and when he had finished, he had stood up and left, leaving the double bill unpaid. And right when he was leaving, Gai and Lee jumped up out of nowhere and decided that he would be the next lucky victim of their flash intensive uber exclusive drop-dead-awesome training.

He wasn't feeling his legs after that. Or his arms. Or his shoulders. The only thing he could feel was his head, which pounded in an ever growing headache. Naruto didn't make it any better talking his ass off, or Sakura when she started screaming at him.

When Iruka saw him and lifted his hand to call his attention, he couldn't help it. He took off running in the opposite direction.

He finally, finally, managed to arrive home, fishing the key from his pocket and opening the door quickly, afraid anybody else would see him and kidnap him again. He stepped into the house hurriedly, and slammed the door behind him, leaning against it for a minute, thinking he was safe now.

That was when a yellow blur rushed in his direction and jumped on him, almost tackling him in the process. He swayed for a moment, before gaining balance and pulling the figure back by the shoulders to stare at it.

Her familiar teal eyes were staring at him in guilt and exasperation.

"I'm sorry!" she gushed uncharacteristically. He stared at her in confusion. "I'm so sorry! I was sneaking in, I didn't see it, then the cat showed up and startled me and when I saw, it was already broken! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it meant that much to you!" he blinked repeatedly, before saying slowly:
"What are you talking about?" she opened her mouth and closed it several times, before looking at him questioningly.
"You mean you don't know about the..." she stopped herself and grinned cheerfully "Nothing!"
"Temari..." he whispered in a tired voice. She sighed and grabbed his hand.

She dragged him to the bedroom, and stopped close to the bed, pointing dejectedly at something on the floor, by the window. There, at his feet, lied the shards of the flower vase his mother had given him as a moving away gift three years back. The vase she had brought from one of her rare trips out of the Fire country, with all the thoughtfulness of a mother who remembers her son. The dark brown, finely painted, horrid looking vase he'd been trying to get rid of for years.

He looked up at her, at her messy blonde hair, her wrinkled clothes, her wide green eyes full of shame and remorse.

And he started laughing.

Uncontrollably.

He cracked up.

Her face flushed in anger and she slapped his arm in indignance.

"What's so funny?"
"You… Should have seen your face!" he choked between laughter. She frowned.
"You mean you're not angry?" he laughed even harder.
"Angry? I've been trying to get rid of that ugly thing for ages! And you were looking… So guilty!" she huffed, crossing her arms and turning her chin away in embarrassment.
"Well, sorry for caring!" she declared crossly.

He stopped laughing, catching his breath, but maintaining a smile. He had been having the crappiest day of his life, and just when he felt like shooting himself, he arrived home to find her there, fussing over something ridiculous, making him laugh and making him forget the bad things.

It was in that exact moment that it struck him that he wouldn't have minded coming home everyday to that. And maybe, just maybe, if he did it right, he could.

"Oi, what are you doing? Why are you in your thinking position? Hey! Are you going to answer me? Crazy man…"