Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ This Time Around ❯ Chapter 1

Title: This Time Around

Author: Skimmilk

Warning: AU…boys with swords!!! Mwuh ha ha ha! Eventual shonen-ai—maybe even yaoi…we'll see

Rating: PG 13-language…just covering my butt…

Pairings: HinaxKiba, eventual NaruxNeji or Gaara+Naruto…still in the process of deciding, I can be convinced…

Summary: So what if Naruto's the new kid on campus? He's got the skills to be one of the best fencers in his generation…only, who stands in his way? Uchiha Sasuke and Hyuuga Neji—two of the nation's best fencers in the amateur circuit. Classmates, dorm mates, Olympics, oh my.

Disclaimer: what do you think?

AN: not sure…will be an epic if I pursue it…

 

This Time Around: Chapter 1

 

Naruto glared, that was the seventh person that had stared at him in the last hour. All day long, too many people who needed to learn proper manners. Staring is rude.

 

He turned, this time a blond(dyed), shallow, shank. Joy. He just seemed to attract all of the wrong people. “That's rude, you know.” The blond flushed, it might have been cute had she not been plastered with orangey foundation. Unfortunately for her, the embarrassed blush came out in patches beneath the make-up. She turned away, back to her friends who tittered. Stupid girls and their stupid staring, and goddamn, stupid. calculus homework. Generally the shallow idiots avoided the library and the new kids, but these girls were stupider than the average idiot. And dear god, he sounded just like Yogi Bear.

 

He tugged on his necktie, what school expected college kids to wear neckties? Evidently Saint Gabriel's did. At least he made it look good. His blazer had already been abandoned to the chair across from his, the shirt was now untucked, and tie loose and hanging on, barely. As soon as he got out of here, these clothes were going to decorate his bedroom floor.

 

The one o'clock bell rang, and he cursed. His homework would actually have to be done at home, not between classes. As expected, Saint Gabriel's was harder than Kurokana's over across town. Then again, he didn't have the added bonus of the creepy stalker distraction at Kurokana's.

 

His aunt had decided that Naruto was slacking off too much, despite the fact that he was top of his class. Saint Gabe's had the reputation for dishing out top caliber students, never mind that they boasted the best fencing team in the country, despite only being seven-years-old. Naruto had jumped at the chance to attend Saint Gabe's. He had wanted it from years ago, but had not bothered considering, it was at least $10,000 a year more than Kurokana's.

 

He supposed that his family was hoping that going to a harder school would keep Naruto busy enough not to pull any pranks on this administration. The last prank may have been a bit too much.

 

There had been an appointed 911 drill, where the narcotics dogs were brought in to search the dorms. Evidently being rich and living away from home, created drug addicted teenagers. Being the president of the student council, Naruto was one of the only people to know about it. So, he had had fun with it. He planted four ounces of weed in the Headmaster's office. What resulted was expulsion, a black mark on his permanent record, a police record, and a school transfer. No big. His name still had enough influence in the school administration to not have too much noise made about the circumstances of his leaving.

 

Naruto pulled his schedule out of his bag. Out of the bottom of his bag. His very wrinkled and crumpled schedule. Last class of the day, ah, Western Civilizations. Now, he just had to find Kikamaru hall, room 415. For a moment, he regretted ditching the busty, brunette, who had been supposed to be his tour guide. Then again, she had been the first stalker. Her tour had less to do with what he needed to find on campus, and more to do with, these are the best make-out sites, blinks innocently. Yeah, uh huh. Not gonna happen sweetie. Just show me where the hell the john is and the cafeteria and we're good.

 

He found room 415 fifteen minutes late. Great way to start a new year, he'd been late for all but one class today. Which meant that he had to endure the staring because he was late, and because he was the new kid. Joy.

 

Ibiki-sensei was staring at him, some kind of strange bug never seen before in the world of man, homo teenagerous. Yep. He glanced at the class manifest, and without even looking at either Naruto or the class, “This is Uzumaki Naruto. Take a seat.” He stared at the right corner of the ceiling, continuing his lecture, “So, Hammurabi was like Draco in what ways? Well, first there was…” Naruto rolled his eyes, pulling out his Calculus homework again; he'd covered this his sophomore year of high school. He smirked when he noticed that the girl sitting next to him was falling asleep during the lecture. He cast a quick look at her notes, they started out in a neat, loopy, girlish, style, but by the end of each line, it turned in to loopy squiggles that smudged with her messy, thick, ink. Roughly every four lines had a new date as a header. She would not be the girl that he was planning on borrowing notes from in the distant future.

 

By the end of his class, he had finished his Calculus and Psychology homework. He wasn't taking any homework home with him. Joy. He still had a half-an-hour till fencing practice, so he had time to get to the dormitory to change and throw down his books, if he ran.

 

He had only moved in two days earlier, but the room was already a disaster zone. Books were in stacks all over the room, clothes thrown in the general vicinity of the hamper—only one shirt actually in it—and his bed was definitely not made. Naruto threw his books on the bed and groaned when his Literature Anthology slid to the edge and fell between the bed and wall. He shook his head, he'd get it later when he came back—if he remembered, that is. Stripping quickly then grabbing a t-shirt and jogging pants, he was still getting dressed as he stumbled out his door.

 

Naruto knew he was terrible at multi-tasking, but the rest of his floor found out rather quickly, too. He tried, quite unsuccessfully, to pull on his shirt, drag his fencing bag into the hall, and lock his door simultaneously. It would have gone smoothly, had he actually pulled on his shirt before leaving his room, but he hadn't, and got tangled with his shirt and bag, falling on his back with a “whumph.” Onto the cold, tiled, floor. He shivered. Several of the kids in the hall laughed.

 

He snarled. Still lying on the floor, he tugged on his shirt—a slim-fitting, long-sleeved shirt—stretching it out of shape. He shoved his bag away from him violently, where it slid on the tile to hit the door across the hall, only to go back to the bag to tug his lanyard off of it. He locked the door and turned to grab his bag, when he was caught in the sneer of the boy across the hall.

 

Black eyes glared at him, scanning him contemptuously. He held the top of Naruto's bag between two fingers, eyeing it with distaste. “Yours?” he left off, “moron,” but it seemed to be universally understood.

 

“Yes,” Naruto reached for the strap, not touching the other boy, “Sorry about that.”

 

He raised a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow, easily conveying, “Yeah, you should be. Scumbag.” The other boy turned to lock his door, and Naruto realized that he had a fencing bag hanging off of his left shoulder.

 

Shit, I have to fence with this asshole? Please, please, Saint Jude, please tell me this dude isn't foil, cause I'm prolly gonna kill him by the end of the week.

 

Without a second glance, Mr. I-love-my-eyebrows-almost-too-much, speed-walked down the hall. Naruto stared at him for a moment, flabbergasted, but then again, not really all surprised, only still irritated at the rude people he'd met today. Shaking himself, he glanced at his watch and cursed, he was going to be late to practice.

 

By the time he'd found his way to Gymnasium Three—nicknamed the “prison ward,” for the concrete-gray painted walls that looked deceptively like a prison cell—the team had been suited up and warming up. Naruto watched as the two teams filed out the door, looking quite grim on their way to run around the school facilities, looking more like a track team than fencing.

 

He found his way to the small, dark-haired man who exuded authority, and was agape. He stood over a table with a tool kit and several weapons, probably touching up the equipment. This school was altogether too perfect.

 

The coach was a legend, Italian Olympic fencer Leonard Devito. Devito studied him carefully, somehow successfully looking down his nose at the boy who was at least sixteen or seventeen centimeters taller than him. Speaking quietly, but by no means with less authority, “Uzumaki?” Naruto nodded solemnly, Devito stuck out a hand for a handshake.

 

Naruto backed up a step and bowed deeply, ignoring the hand entirely, “It's a pleasure to meet you Devito-sensei.”

 

Devito snorted, humor etched on his grim face, “Polite, better than most of the brats here.” His stuck his hands into his pockets. He eyed him again, this time with less hostility, but a bit of contempt. “Sabre?” Naruto shook his head, “Foil?” he asked, with hope coloring his voice…?

 

“Yes.” Naruto tugged his bag off of his shoulder, letting it drop to the floor.

 

Devito examined his stance, his build, and hands, “Lefty?”

 

Naruto's eyebrows hiked up, hidden by his bangs, “Ambidextrous, but I fence foil lefty, sir.”

 

It was Devito's turn to hike an eyebrow, “You fence foil, lefty?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Can you fence the other weapons?”

 

“I fence sabre with my right hand and if I fence epee it's with my left, sir. My father insisted that I become proficient with all weapons before I chose a specialty.”

 

“Just how many years have you been fencing?”

 

“Fifteen, sir, since I was four.”

 

Without asking, Devito took his bag, slowly taking out the gear, checking for damage, upkeep, and quality. He pulled out one of Naruto's practice foils, a hiss of appreciation passing through his lips, “French grip, not too many kids use it lately.” He smiled over at the other boy. “Belgium and German grips, they're too lazy.”

 

“I'm a bit of a traditionalist, and my father insisted, sir.”

 

Devito held it carefully in one hand, letting his wrist go limp, feeling for the balance of the blade, perfect. The blade was perfectly balanced, the flexibility of the blade was just right, the grip comfortable with excellent quality leather, and the bell was beautifully made. He ran a reverent hand over the bell; blades of this quality didn't come cheap. His calloused fingers caught slightly on the something engraved on the bell, examining closely, his eyes widened at the initials acid etched into it. UA. He turned to the boy with narrow eyes. He now stood balanced evenly on both feet, his hands clasped behind his back, “Who did you say your father was?”

 

Naruto raised an eyebrow, lips pressed into a thin line, suppressing amusement? “I didn't, sir.” Devito growled, and Naruto had the audacity to grin at him, “Uzumaki Arashi.”

 

Only a slight widening of the eyes betrayed Devito's surprise, “Hmm.” Devito turned to the rest of the contents of the bag, another practice weapon, two electric blades, and a practice epee and sabre. All with the initials UA. He raised an eyebrow, “I heard that your father only made one hundred-forty-two of these.”

 

Naruto raised one elegant shoulder, “He only sold that many.” His lips tightened to a thin line again, this time not with suppressed humor, “The rest were left as my inheritance.”

 

“Hmm, I—” whatever Devito was about to say was cut-off as the two teams came into the gym. The girl and boy teams quickly separated, dividing up by weaponry and lining up with military precision. He continued his scan of Naruto's gear in silence. The quality of the gear was excellent, oddly appropriate for the son of Uzumaki Arashi. He smiled at the vibrant purple of the lamae, interesting color. The mask was unorthodox, but not against regulations. The image didn't quite fit what Devito had gotten off of this oddly solemn boy, thus far. Not too many people painted on their masks, it was a distraction. On the mesh of the mask, there was a spiral painted; Devito then realized that this was the personal mask of Uzumaki Arashi. That explained its somewhat battered appearance in comparison to the other, relatively, new gear. He frowned when he realized that Naruto didn't bring all of his fencing clothes. “Uzumaki-kun, where are your fencing pants?”

 

Naruto made a questioning noise, “In my dormitory room. I hadn't thought that we would fence fully suited.” He groaned internally, now that he realized, rather belatedly, the teams were fully suited.

 

Devito once again weighed him carefully, “For the first day, you're excused, but remember for next practice, always fully suited.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Devito deftly placed all the gear back into the bag, “Do a quick warm-up and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. We have monthly ranking tournaments, you choose a good time to come, we'll have a round-robin tomorrow and the day after to decide the starters.” Devito handed him the bag, gesturing toward the left side of the gym where the boys' team was running through drills. Naruto turned to pull on his canvas jacket, “Your father was a good man, and an excellent fencer.”

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, body oddly tense, “Thank you, sir.”

 

Naruto ran through a quick warm-up, watching the teams from beneath hooded eyelids. With irritation, he noted that the black-haired eyebrow boy was a foil fencer. And most of the boys' team he recognized, best in the country indeed. Nara Shikamaru was the number two epee fencer in the country, and from the fact that he was leading practice, the captain of the team. Aburame Shino the number four epee, Rock Lee, the fifth place sabre, Hyuuga Neji, number two foil and twin brother to—his eyes darted to the girls' side, yes, there was his sister—Hyuuga Hinata, number two foil in women's. With wide eyes, Naruto realized, eyebrow-asshole was Uchiha Sasuke, the number one foil in the country; he hadn't recognized him without his customary bandanna. Best team in the country, wow.

 

He pulled two of his weapons out of his bag, slipping his smooth, leather glove into his mask, dangling from his right hand. With a nod to Coach Devito, he stepped up behind him where he was observing the boys practice. He clapped his hands once sharply, audible over the shuffling of shoes and Nara's orders of double and triple lunges with a forward recovery. The boys and girls all stopped abruptly, meeting in the middle of the gymnasium.

 

As the teams lined up, he could feel roughly thirty-five pairs of eyes on him. Masks were pulled off, tucked beneath an arm, sweaty bangs brushed back, and weapons dangled from cramping fingers. Naruto frowned, Devito was right; most of the team was using pistol grip blades. Aside from him, the Hyuuga twins were the only ones using a French grip.

 

Naruto sighed in relief, as soon as Devito began speaking, all eyes went from him to Devito. “This is Uzumaki Naruto, be nice, he's new.” He gestured towards Naruto, smiling. Most of the girls' team smiled as well. The glares from the boys appeared hostile or assessing, his skill, his build, his two foils. Did they think he was pretentious for having two practice foils? He could see Hyuuga eyeing his hands, trying to figure out what hand he fenced with? Devito let the silence drag on for a few seconds too many, and Naruto could feel a flush slowly creeping up his neck, until he knew that he was blushing to the roots of his hair. “Uzumaki-kun, would you like to tell everyone about yourself?”

 

Naruto glared at the older man out of the corner of his eyes, sorely tempted to say, “No.” “Hello.” Several of the girls giggled at the depth of his voice, the boys mostly rolled their eyes, “I'm a senior this year, nineteen, and I fence foil.” He smiled slightly, wrinkling his nose and dimpling—meltdown in two-point-three seconds—more giggling from the girls, all very charmed with the blond boy. “I like ramen and skateboarding. And Gackt.” He sketched an elaborate salute with the weapon in his left hand, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

 

The two teams bowed in unison, and Naruto was taken aback when they announced in stereo, “Welcome.” In an undertone that was muttered, yet still clearly audible, someone uttered, “Gutter trash.”

 

“Kankuro!” Nara hissed. The most of the girls glared, while the boys turned slowly to face a boy with a painted face. Naruto frowned, that makeup didn't look like it could be regulation for the school. Neither did the piercing in the boy's lip. It took a moment, but Naruto realized, behind the paint and metal was the number three epee in the country. Since the boy went to Nationals, he obviously went through some very interesting changes.

 

The boy ignored his captain, and everyone else, eyeing Naruto with derision, “I don't know why they let common trash like you in this school.” It was then that Naruto remembered, this boy, Kankuro was one of the Sandin triplets. Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari Sandin were known as three of the strongest fencers within the amateur circuit. They came from a fencing dynasty, a member of their family on the Olympic team for the last fifty years. There were hopes that all three would be going to be on the Olympic team after their graduation this spring. “No money, no skill, no entrance.”

 

Okaay, obviously this kid was one of the many students who lacked the breeding bred in—or was it inbred?—to his blue-blood. No one said anything, obviously waiting for Naruto's reply, was it some kind of test? Naruto eyed him disdainfully, and with contempt oiling his voice, “Considering how expensive this school is, and since it doesn't have a scholarship program, do you honestly believe that I don't have the money to come here?” He snorted, pointing his weapon at the made-up boy, he hissed, “Do you want to test the caliber of my skill?” Imitating Devito, he looked down his nose at the taller boy. Fully mocking, “Are you challenging me to a duel?” Naruto noted that several of the others snorted at that one. He kinda wished he had his glove on so he could tug it off and slap Kankuro with it. That would be hilarious.

 

Kankuro snarled, “You expect me to fence your pansy-assed foil?!” Quite a few of the foil team glowered at him, obviously offended. Hyuuga Neji actually clenched his fist around his grip on his mask, causing the wires to creak alarmingly.

 

He clearly made some enemies with that comment; Naruto smiled sweetly, “Fine then, I'll fence your weapon.”

 

Kankuro snorted with contempt, “Epee? Do you know who I—”

 

“An asshole?” he cut him off. Nara and Devito sent him a scathing look, not appreciating the language, Naruto shrugged.

 

Shoving several of his teammates, Kankuro stepped onto the rubberized strip to the right of the gym, “Get your ass over here, trash.”

 

Naruto frowned, was this some kind of weird-assed initiation? Because, he'd never seen someone with so much disrespect for his coach, captain, and team. With narrow eyes, Nara, stepped up to Naruto handing him his epee, pommel first. It was righty and a German grip, “You can borrow my weapon.”

 

Naruto automatically reached for the weapon, then with a wince, backed away. “It's okay, I'd rather use my own.” Nara started. Turning his back on the fuming Kankuro and the rest of his team as the settled on the benches to the side of strip, Naruto went to his own bag. He slid his two foils into the bag, and pulled out his practice epee. He slipped his glove on, flexing the fingers lightly. He gripped his epee, the leather molding perfectly into his grip. Flicking his wrist twice, he readjusted to the heavier weight; he hadn't fenced with his epee in three days and felt a little rusty. Turning, he heard the murmurs of the other fencers.

 

As he stepped to the end of the strip, Devito stopped him, “You don't have to do this.”

 

Naruto sneered, “No, I don't,” clearly stating that no one could make Uzumaki Naruto do something if he didn't want to.

 

In an undertone, “Did you know that—”

 

“—he's the number three fencer in the country? Yeah.” Naruto flicked his hair out of his eyes, tugging an orange bandana onto his head. He stepped onto the strip, and smiled at Devito, “I'm good here.” There were startled whispers as the teams clearly heard was he said. Kankuro managed to look really quite angry through the make-up.

 

Again, Naruto wondered if it was some kind of initiation, practice had essentially stopped as the entire team sat on the sidelines watching the bout. Nara and a girl—Temari? the female Sandin—stood on either side of Devito as floor judges.

 

With a curl of his lips, Naruto wondered how often Kankuro washed the bib on his mask, because with all of that boy's makeup, it had to be filthy. Holding his mask, Kankuro saluted the coach and his team with a casual wave of his blade. Naruto's face was neutral, but he wondered, why was Kankuro so rude to his coach and teammates. Point up, Naruto brought the bell of his blade to his lips, the acid-etched initials catching on his slightly dry lips; with sharp, precise motions, he saluted the coach, the team, and God. In a distant part of his mind, he heard the murmurs of appreciation. He pulled his mask on, and dropped into an on guard position.

 

Devito smiled, Kankuro's on guard looked sloppy next to Naruto's. “Are you ready?” Naruto gave a single sharp nod of ascent; Kankuro grunted something that could have been taken as an affirmative. “Alles.”

 

As soon as Devito spoke, Naruto leapt forward, with a twitch of his wrist, he stabbed at Kankuro's wrist on the six side. Kankuro grunted, and his grip on his blade loosened. His blade dropped from the weakened grip. Naruto retreated back to the beginning line. Kankuro gripped his wrist, shook his hand slightly, and picked up his blade. As he went to the beginning line, Naruto turned to Devito, “You gonna call the score, Devito-sensei?”

 

Devito glared, “One to zero.” He sent Naruto another searching look, “Ready?” Again, Naruto nodded, Kankuro grunted. With a smile, Naruto noted that he had evidently hit the nerve that ran along the outer part of Kankuro's forearm; his grip was weak, and the blade dipped slightly as he settled into on guard. “Alles.” This time, Kankuro tried to move first, he did a ballestra and then lunged. Naruto smirked; Kankuro was dangerously easy to read. Naruto advanced, and before Kankuro lunged, he dropped into a lunge position without moving forward. Kankuro lunged straight into Naruto's blade, and the point of his blade was where Naruto's shoulder had been a second before. Once again, Naruto retreated quickly, “Stop thrust, two to zero.” They both dropped into an on guard as quickly as possible. “Ready? Alles.” Naruto once again, got the jump on Kankuro, and as he attempted a one-two, Naruto quickly beat the blade aside, and pegged the inside of Kankuro's wrist. That would leave a mark. For a second time, Kankuro dropped his blade.

 

“Three to zero. Ready? Alles.” Kankuro, instead of being offensive, decided to be defensive, and retreated. Naruto followed, knowing that he was trying to make Naruto close the distance so he could use his longer reach to his advantage. Naruto, obligingly, followed and gradually closed the distance. When Kankuro's back foot touched the warning line for the end of the strip, someone hissed, and Kankuro took it as his cue to move. He lunged forward, beating aside Naruto's blade brutally, using more of his arm than his wrist, and lunged again. He aimed for Naruto's wrist, and hit on target.

 

Unfortunately, the tip of the blade slipped through the gap in Naruto's glove, meant for the cable necessary for fencing electric, and under the sleeves of his jacket and shirt. Kankuro retreated quickly, and as the blade slide back out of Naruto's sleeve, a sharp pain slashed across his wrist. The blade slipped out the sleeve, coated lightly in blood and pieces of “things” that could only be skin, and Naruto dropped his weapon. He gripped his wrist tightly with his free hand, curling his body around the wounded limb. Within seconds, the white canvas sleeve was red with blood. “Your blade was not protected properly,” he snarled. With a flick of his head, his mask flipped off, his bandana slipping off with it. Dropping to his knees on the strip, Naruto picked up his bandana with his injured hand. Distantly, he realized that someone was running to get the first aid kit, and someone was talking into their phone to the school doctor. Devito reached for him, firmly pressing fingers into the inner portion of Naruto's upper arm—pressing into the artery. Pushing at the coach, Naruto quickly tugged his jacket off, now dotted with copious amounts of blood. Gripping his bandana with one hand and his teeth, he twisted it neatly into a knot around his wrist on top of the five-centimeter gash on the inside of his wrist.

 

He stood gracefully, despite the protestations of the team and Devito. “You better be paying my dry cleaning bill.” Kankuro looked up from where he was wiping at the blood on his blade with a handkerchief. Naruto picked up his discarded jacket and epee, and walked to his bag. He quickly stripped off his shirt, using it to wipe at the excess blood on his arm, then tied it on top of the bandanna, and threw his jacket on the bleachers. He pulled an extra shirt out of his bag, and tugged it on. He grabbed his other jacket pulling it on jerkily, he scowled when he felt it tighten around the makeshift bandages on his wrist. He seized his right-handed glove and turned back to the strip where Devito was watching him with thinly veiled incredulity. Kankuro stood empty handed, obviously thinking the bout was over. “It's not over asshole.” He made his way to Nara, “Nara-kun, may I borrow your blade?” Nodding dumbly, Nara handed him his weapon. Naruto frowned, he rarely used his right hand to fence epee and he'd only used a German grip once or twice. His hand flexed awkwardly around the grip, they would cramp quickly in this position. He scowled, this bout had to end quickly, or his muscles—ill used to the heavier epee and the strange grip of the blade—in his wrist would not be very happy tomorrow. He stood on the strip, waiting. Kankuro slowly pulled his glove back on, and tugged his blade out of his bag. Naruto waited for a moment, and turned to Devito, “Are you going to start the bout?”

 

“Ready?” Kankuro frowned, but nodded slowly, Naruto growled an affirmative, “Alles.” Viciously, Naruto beat Kankuro's blade aside, arm barely shifting from the effort, and with a snarl, he stabbed at Kankuro's mask. He quickly retreated as Kankuro reeled from the force of the blow. With a small smile, Naruto noted that the mask now had a visible dent on the mesh. “Four-one.”

 

“Ready?” Kankuro gave a wobbly nod, “Alles.” This time, Naruto beat the blade upward, and dropped his wrist, letting the blade jab at Kankuro's right foot.

 

Temari attempted to call floor, but was sent a cutting frown by Devito. Naruto obviously had hit the other boy's foot; Kankuro had dropped to the floor to massage the pain away from his wounded foot. “Five-one. Uzumaki.”

 

Naruto turned to Nara and handed him the weapon grip first, “Thanks.” His knees gave out, as the blood loss caught up with him.

 

As he dropped to the floor, and his arm was gripped quickly by the school doctor, Iruka. Iruka pulled the jacket and mask off, snarling something about incompetent coaching. He tapped at Naruto's cheek, “Naruto-kun. Naruto-kun.” Naruto turned glazed eyes to the doctor. “When was the last time you ate?” Several of Naruto's teammates frowned, curious. Nara stared piercingly at Naruto. “Naruto-kun, where's your kit?” Naruto's eyes moved swimmingly towards his gear. Iruka turned to Devito, “Can you grab his bag?” Puzzled but compliant, Devito grabbed the bag and brought it to the doctor. One hand still pressing down on the artery in the upper arm, Iruka sifted through Naruto's bag, emptying it completely. He pulled out a small leather case as Naruto's eyes closed. Roughly, he shook Naruto till his eyes opened again. He brought out a small machine, slightly smaller than a palm pilot. There was a strip hanging out of it, and he dragged the strip through the blood on Naruto's wrist. He frowned at the number that came up on the screen. He turned back to Devito, “Devito-san, can you hold onto his arm here?” As soon as Devito was holding Naruto's arm properly, Iruka drew out a syringe and bottle of something clear from Naruto's bag. He drew out the liquid carefully, and lifting Naruto's shirt stabbed the syringe into his belly, exposing tight abs and some interesting scar tissue. Within minutes, the color was back in his face.

 

“What was that?” Neji, the closest to Iruka, slowly began putting everything back into the bag, pausing when he examined the weapons.

 

“Naruto-kun is hypoglycemic.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It means that his body's production of insulin fluctuates depending on what he eats. If he eats his prescribed diet, it should stay at a normal level, but if he doesn't eat, he could die. Blood-loss makes it worse.” Iruka looked down on him, shaking him a little, Naruto's eyes opened slowly, “What the hell did you eat today, Naruto-kun?”

 

“I had a cookie, it was supposed to be sugar-free.”

 

“Idiot.” Iruka quickly swooped in, lifting the boy easily, “I'll take care of his arm in my office.”

 

As he left, Neji lifted a blade to look at the bell carefully, “Is this an Uzumaki Arashi?” His pale eyes widened and met the eyes of his sister. “These are like, 50 million yen, each! What's he doing with…six?!” He moaned. “Oh, that's so not fair!”

 

Iruka turned slightly, his burden now sleeping in his arms, “Naruto-kun only fences with UAs, his father wouldn't have it any other way.”

 

“His father? His father is Uzumaki Arashi?”

 

“Hyuuga-kun, I'd appreciate it if you would drop off Naruto's things after practice.” He left quickly.

 

Kiba came close, “Neji, what's an Uzumaki Arashi?”

 

Hinata answered instead, “Uzumaki Arashi was a fencer roughly our parents' generation. He was a legend, after going pro, he had a no loss record for three years. And he was set to go to the '92 Olympics; everyone thought that he was prime for the gold medal. The thing is, he retired before his career really took off, they say it was because his wife died leaving just him and his son. So he stopped fencing to take care of his kid. In his free time, he started designing and making weapons, and even today, they're acknowledged as the best weapons made. Only, he made less than 150, and now, since they're so rare, they're worth millions. So the fact that Uzumaki-kun has six of them is unheard of. Especially since he uses them for practice. The few that I know of are in private collections, in glass cases.” She turned to her brother, “Neji's been trying to get one for the last three years, with no avail. Our dad said that an UA was wasted on kids like us.”

 

Kiba frowned, “Why'd he only make 150? If he was that good, why didn't he make more?”

 

Hinata paused, wondering how to proceed. Everyone would find out sooner or later really, “Well, he died.”

O
O
O
“Nii-san.”

 

Iruka moved from his desk, handing Naruto a bottle of water. He reached for it with his left hand, only to wince and reach with his right. He took a cautious gulp, holding it on his tongue for a minute. “You gave me quite the scare Naruto.”

 

Naruto watched the water in the bottle slosh, “Sorry. I thought that cookie was sugar-free.”

 

“Yeah, stupid, what else did you eat?”

 

“…”

 

“That's what I thought. You are such a moron. How many times are you going to have to go to the hospital before you get it through your thick skull, you need to eat right or you die.”

 

“Everyone dies eventually, Nii-san.”

 

“Yeah, shut up. You also did an interesting number on your wrist.”

 

“Yeah, Jiriaya is gonna kick my ass. How long before we take out the stitches?”

 

“Just try not to be too rough with it, knowing you, your gonna come back in four days and we'll have to restitch you.”

 

“If I'm good to it, how long?”

 

“With the way you heal, ten days.”

 

“So, for ten days, I'm supposed to fence righty? Joy. Jiriaya really is going to kill me.”

 

“Suck it up. It's only ten days, and you still get to fence. Just think of it as you training to be better than you are. Get past your flaws.”

 

“Kiss my ass, Ruka-nii.” Naruto flexed his left forearm slightly. Frowning, “Nii-san, do you think that you can drive me home today?”

 

“Why? You told me yesterday that you had everything that you needed.”

 

“Well that was before I realized that I had to fence foil with my right hand. That's gonna suck ass.”

 

“Why don't you ask Jiriaya to stop by your house and bring a few by tonight?”

 

“Cause that would mean bringing several more blades here. It already makes me nervous that I have six with me. And I'm surrounded by rich brats who actually know about who my father was, and what those blades mean.”

 

With a quiet knock, Neji opened the door to the infirmary. “Iruka-sensei—ah! Uzumaki-kun, you're awake!” he came into the room and quietly closed the door behind him, “Your bag.” He handed Naruto the bag, who opened it to search the contents, “Kankuro took your jackets, he apologizes and is taking them to the dry cleaners as we speak.”

 

Naruto and Iruka exchanged glances, smirking, Naruto translated, “You mean, that someone, I'm assuming that it was Devito-sensei, told him that he was going to dry clean my jackets or he'd be sorry.”

 

Neji smiled drolly, evidently Naruto had a sense of humor, “Actually, it was Hinata and Sakura, they made him feel very guilty.” His pale eyes glittered menacingly, “He'll try to stay below their radar, last time he pissed them off, they put superglue on his fencing socks, mask, glove, and his wristwatch.”

 

Naruto winced, grimly promising himself not to get on the bad side of the Hyuugas and whoever this Sakura was. Iruka laughed, “Yes, I remember, I had to help him cut all of it off. Kankuro lost quite a bit of body hair with that incident.” Or Iruka's.

 

“And his favorite glove, watch, and a perfectly good mask. He wasn't too happy.”

 

“Sakura?”

 

“Yes, she was the girl with the pink hair.”

 

“Ah. Isn't that non-regulation?” Naruto frowned. He stood on wobbly knees, scratched his head, and glared at the ceiling, evidently the paint had wronged him sometime in this life—just to note, it was beige. He picked up his bag, and started walking toward the door, “Ja, Nii-san.” He walked out the door, headed toward the dorms, Neji followed, close to his side.

 

“Yes, but the Haruno, Sandin, Uchiha, and Hyuuga families were the ones who first funded this school.”

 

“Ah, so that's how Haruno-kun has dyed pink hair, Sandin-kun has a lip piercing, dyed hair, and makeup, and why eyebrow boy is such an asshole.”

 

“Lee? Lee's not an asshole.”

 

“Lee? Rock Lee?” Naruto shook his head, from what he had heard about the Lee kid, he was unfailingly polite and self-effacing. “No, Uchiha, he's got such pretty eyebrows.”

 

Neji snorted, “Ah, I think he gets them waxed. So, you've had a problem with the heir to the Uchiha conglomerate?”

 

“You mean aside from the fact that he's a prick?” Neji smirked, not too many people felt anything other than awe when it came to Uchiha. Awe of his looks, skills, lack of personality… “I've seen him fence. He's got no respect for other people. He's an asshole.”

 

“On the strip?”

 

“Yeah. I saw the way you two fenced each other during the finals of the Junior National Tournament…three years ago? And I saw you at the Amateur National Tournament.”

 

Neji winced, “Not exactly my finest hours.”

 

“I know, I've seen you fence before,” Naruto sent him a sympathetic glance, everyone had their bad days, “He fenced like an asshole.” Naruto frowned, “He fenced the way I fenced today, and I wanted to get Kankuro pissed.”

 

“You fenced well.” Neji smiled tightly, not truly reaching his eyes, “Even though you fenced with your weak arm. That bout was forty-six seconds.”

 

Naruto scowled, “Yeah, well I'm gonna get plenty of practice with my weak arm in the next week.” He gestured to the bandages on his arm, “Ten days, if I'm lucky.”

 

“That sucks.” Neji paused for a second, standing in front of a door, Naruto stopped with him, “What weapon do you fence Uzumaki-kun?”

 

“Foil.”

 

For a moment, Neji mouth widened to a genuine smile, “Great, welcome to the team!”

 

Naruto scratched his head, confused, “Um…I haven't tried out yet.”

 

“No, don't worry about that, you did great today. There's no doubt that you'll be varsity.” Without a pause, he knocked on the door. There was two quiet voices speaking behind, and conversation stopped at the knock. They waited for a moment, “Hina! Open the door!”

 

There was grumbling on the other side, before there was the audible sliding of a chain, and triple click of the unlocking door. The door was opened a sliver, and a pale eye stared out the gap, “Neji, what do you need?”

 

Neji pushed the door slightly, enough to get Hinata to back up, and the door to protest against the chain, “I was going to introduce you to Uzumaki-kun, but if you're going to be rude, we'll leave.” He pushed Naruto slightly who winced a little. Neji sent Naruto a startled glance, but continued with his farce. Pale eyes widened, the door closed and the chain was heard sliding again, she opened the door fully this time. “Besides, I know that Kiba's in there with you.”

 

Hinata flushed, but as Naruto entered the room, it appeared empty.

 

“Kiba you can get out from under the bed.” A dusty, flustered Kiba slid out from beneath the bed, and Hinata blushed deeper.

 

Distraction seemed to be Kiba's best friend, “Yo, you okay, Uzumaki-kun?”

 

Naruto nodded and smiled slightly, “Six stitches and I'm good as new.” Kiba and Hinata sat on the bed, on opposite ends. When Neji motioned for Naruto to take the desk chair, Naruto waved it off and settled for leaning a hip against the cluttered—probably unused—desk. Neji spun the desk chair around, and straddled it.

 

Neji turned, gesturing, “That's Inuzuka Kiba, and if you know who I am, then you—”

 

“-know your twin sister Hyuuga Hinata. And you're Hyuuga Neji.”

 

Neji smiled ruefully, “Huh, I didn't introduce myself, did I?”

 

“Nope.” Naruto dropped his bag next to him, “You know, I'm Uzumaki. You can call me Naruto.” He ran a finger through the dust on the far edge of the desk, and grinning in disgust, showed the finger to Neji who sneered.

 

“Hina, you need to clean this room sometime.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I forget sometimes.”

 

Naruto grin grew larger, “Sometimes? This looks like two or three months of dust.” He wiped the dust off on a pant leg, “May I ask a question?”

 

Kiba smirked, “You just did.”

 

“Yeah, thanks asshole.” Naruto flipped him off, despite Hinata's faint frown. He stood with his hips canted forward, head tilted to the side—a full body question mark, “I was wondering if today was some kind of weird initiation?”

 

Hinata frowned, “No, it wasn't. Kankuro has just been really…off lately. You just got the brunt of it because you were an easy target.”

 

Naruto nodded, frowning, “But, what's up with practice, everyone just stopped like that, and I can see that practice is over now. Shouldn't practice have been longer than this?”

 

“Well, we all wanted to check out the skills of the competition.” Neji smirked, “And we're supposed to take it easy before the ranking matches.” He shrugged and glanced at his sister, “When you got hurt, that was a little...er...not good?” He laughed, a little uncomfortable, “and you did a little bit of damage to Kankuro.”

 

Naruto frowned thoughtfully, “I didn't hit him that hard.”

 

Kiba shook his head, laughing, “No, you didn't, but you rattled him a bit. Enough that he's gonna suck at the ranking matches tomorrow.”

 

“…sorry.”

 

Hinata waved a hand dismissively, “Don't worry about it. Kankuro deserved that. And if he does poorly, he'll try harder next time.”

 

Naruto glanced at his watch, “I need to get something to eat soon; I've got practice tonight.” He stood up, the others standing with him, “You want to join me for an early dinner?”

 

Kiba smiled, “If we don't, will you eat anyway?”

 

Naruto rubbed his neck, “Probably, but not well.” He grinned, picking up and slinging his bag onto his shoulder, “But if there are no people to witness it, no on can tell Iruka-sensei that I didn't eat well.”

 

“For the sake of the team, I'll eat dinner with you,” Kiba stood from his seat, stretching, not successfully sounding put out. “Don't need you fainting again.”

 

“I didn't faint,” Naruto huffed, “I lost consciousness.”

 

“Dude, you fainted like a little girl.”

 

Neji stepped between them, and pushed them both out the door, “We'll all join you. It's always rough being the new kid.” Neji shoved his sister out the door, and motioned to Naruto's bag, “You want to stop by your room? Where is it?”

 

“310, so I'm four doors down.” Naruto turned towards his room.

 

“UZUMAKI NARUTO! What the hell did you do to your arm!?!” Neji, Hinata, and Kiba all jumped at the voice booming down the hall.

 

Guiltily, Naruto turned fully towards the white-haired man who was standing in front of his door. “…uh…hi…Jiriaya.” Naruto moved closer towards Jiriaya, sending a glare toward his companions when he realized that they were edging farther away, “What are you doing here so early?”

 

He reached forward, taking Naruto's left arm, at the elbow, in hand. He glanced at the bandages sharply, noting where blood had marked the white slightly, “Iruka called me. You jackass, you're going to be fencing righty for the next week-and-half.” He shook Naruto, still gripping the arm, “Fencing foil righty? Your sabre technique is going to go straight to hell, Kakashi is going to kick your sorry ass. And he's gonna try and kick my ass. I don't have time to put up with his shit. And your epee and foil is going down the crapper by the time you're done healing!”

 

“But, Ero-sensei,” Naruto dimly noted that Kiba and Neji pushed Hinata behind them, “You could have bitched at me over the phone. What are you doing here?”

 

“Iruka asked me to bring by your spares, since you won't be needing these. I'll take your lefty blades, so you aren't tempted, and drop them off at your house, and when I get back, we'll practice. Until then, you eat.” He took the bag from Naruto and walked towards the exit, “You better eat well, idiot, I'm not putting up with you fainting. I'll bring you some spare jackets too.”

O
O
O
By the time Naruto sat down with his dinner, the other three were already eating their meals. Salad, pasta, cookies and fruit, their meals were normal apparently. They stared at Naruto's dinner with open disgust: a large salad, a sandwich, cereal, two hard boiled eggs, several slices of beets, an apple, an orange, a banana, a slice of pizza with everything, and some stir-fried rice. He looked at them staring at his meal, and bristled, “What?! My diet is weird, so I need all of my food groups and this is the only way it works!! Besides,” he waved a hand toward his pizza, “by eating the really healthy stuff, I can get away with eating the bad stuff.”

 

Kiba curled his lips in disgust, “That's still really gross, dude.”

 

“If this is the way you usually eat, then I'm not surprised that you fainted when you ate only a cookie,” Hinata took a neat bite of her salad, turning away from the sight of Naruto eating some of his beets.

 

Neji sniffed, “I hear beets are very good for you.” Without warning, or asking, Neji skewered a beet slice, and stuffed it in his mouth. His eyes widened, and he choked, purple juice dripping out of his mouth and down his chin, staining pale skin. He grimly continued chewing, and swallowed tightly, tendons and muscles jutting out sharply in his throat, wiping the juice with his napkin. “I have to agree with Kiba, Naruto. That was disgusting.” Kiba and Hinata barely hid their grins.

 

“I never said that I ate them because they taste good, my diet is weird!” he whined, sulkily finishing his beets. “I don't like it anymore than you do.” He peeled a hard-boiled egg, and stuffed it whole into his mouth. With the egg not fully swallowed, he began eating his cereal, leaving bits of white and yolk on his spoon when he pulled it out. Kiba began gagging. Audibly. Several of the students nearby, including a sullen-looking girl reading a book in the corner, looked up to stare.

 

“Naruto, if you continue to eat with us, I'm going to have to ask you to eat your…er…food separately, by…uh…food group,” Neji choked out, trying not to watch Naruto eat, and trying desperately to ignore the gagging sounds being produced from Kiba.

 

Naruto swallowed, and watched them all carefully. With a smile, he nodded, “Okay! I was wondering what was going to gross you guys out completely.” Taking a napkin to wipe the excess off of his spoon, he grinned and began eating his cereal, normally.

 

“What?!” Kiba snarled.

 

“My diet is weird, but I was only eating it that way to see how long it would take you guys to get grossed out,” he smiled cheekily, then grimaced, “That was really…er…unpleasant.” He stuck his tongue out, “Blegh.”

 

“You were riding us?” Neji said slowly.

 

“Yep,” he continued eating his cereal, finishing it off by slurping up the milk directly from the bowl. He missed the shared glances of the others. He also missed the packet of salt and pepper Kiba dumped into his Coke. He reached for his soda, then frowned. Putting it back down, he went back to the juice and soda dispenser, and got a new soda. The three exchanged confused and somewhat guilty glances, when Naruto came back with his new soda. “I forgot, I got Coke instead of diet.” He smiled and took a deep slurp. “Kiba you want mine?” Kiba shook his head, and went to get some orange juice instead.

 

Despite the fact that he had brought more food than the other three, and had begun eating later, Naruto was done with his meal before they were. He took his time peeling his banana, watching the interactions of the other three as they stole food from one another.

 

“Neji, can you help me with my Psychology homework? It's kicking my ass,” Kiba quickly stole a cherry tomato from Hinata, stuffing it in his mouth before she could get it back.

 

Neji frowned, picking the chocolate chips out of his cookie, “Yeah, no problem, I hadn't started mine either. Was it difficult?”

 

Kiba laughed, “Not really, but I missed the lecture on Archetypes, and I'm totally confused.”

 

“You're an absolute idiot,” Neji scowled at him, “You could have borrowed my notes like a week ago.” Neji frowned and turned to Naruto, “You're in our Psych class, right? You want to work together tonight? I don't think I can handle house training Kiba by myself.”

 

Kiba shouted, “Hey!” before Naruto shook his head.

 

“I've got practice tonight, and I'm done with my homework anyway.” He divided his orange into segments, offering pieces to everyone. Hinata and Neji only took one, while Kiba tried to take half. He only took two when Neji glared at him.

 

“Practice?”

 

Naruto nodded, biting carefully into his orange segment. “With Jiriaya, the old guy that was waiting at my door earlier.” He took a segment, sticking it to his lips, an orange smile. Like a dog with a treat, he snapped his teeth and caught the segment in his teeth, chewing thoughtfully, “He's my fencing coach. Well, one of them.” He shrugged gracelessly.

 

“You have a personal fencing coach?” Kiba was breaking his cookie into pieces, sharing with Hinata, “Wait, you have more than one?”

 

“Yeah. Jiriaya is my foil and epee coach. And Hatake Kakashi, my sabre coach.”

 

“So, you fence all three!?”

 

Naruto smile ruefully, not too many people understood how he worked, “Well, foil's my specialty, but I fence the other two, too.” He motioned to his wounded arm, “Kakashi's going to kill me. Usually I only fence sabre with my right hand.” He glanced at his watch, eyes widening slightly, “Speaking of, I need to get going.” He grabbed his apple, taking a large bite out of it, “After practice, I'm going skating, any of you feel like joining?”

 

Neji and Kiba exchanged glances, “What time?”

 

“Probably around 8:30 or 9:00.”

 

“Sure, we'll meet you at your room.”

 

“Kay. Ja.”

O
O
O

Naruto found his way back to his dormitory at ten to nine, his usually spiky blond hair plastered to his scalp with sweat, and his limbs aching more than they had in years. The extent of Jiriaya's annoyance was usually expressed in the difficulty of his lessons. From the hot burning in Naruto's very fatigued muscles and the deep purple marks on his chest, arms, and thighs, Jiriaya was pretty angry. He grinned when he saw Neji, Hinata, and Kiba sitting in front of his dorm room, playing cards. He leaned around Kiba, planting a foot on his back to unlock the door. He opened the door and motioned them in. “I've got to shower, but that'll take like five minutes, make yourselves at home.”

 

They wandered through the room, trying to avoid the stacks of books and manga on the floor. Hinata tripped and knocked over a stack, before planting herself on one of the only safe places, the bed. Kiba threw himself down next to her, and Neji carelessly shoved aside stacks of books to clear a path for the desk chair to move to. He dragged the chair toward the bed and began shuffling. Shaking his head, Naruto put his bag down behind the door, grabbed a towel and wandered into his in suite bathroom.

 

He had been surprised when he realized that Saint Gabe's offered in suite bathrooms, but then again, considering how much he was paying to be here… But it was cool. The bathrooms had good water pressure, plenty of hot water, and he didn't have to share it with any strange people. Strange, dirty, people.

 

He was done in five minutes, wandering out of the shower in just a towel, forgetting to bring clothes into the bathroom with him. He ignored the scowls sent by Neji and Kiba and the bright flush from Hinata.

 

Neji watched Naruto through the veil of his eyelashes, pale, gray, eyes hooded; the heat of the shower had turned his skin a bright lobster red. The scar tissue that he had noticed earlier had been turned a painful red, brighter and harsher than the healthy flush of the rest of his body. It began on his shoulders and dribbled down his chest like a perverse kind of lace decorating the dips and valleys of muscle. There was an interesting scar that formed above his right nipple, jagged and sharp, slightly bisecting the dark brown flesh with a hint of pink. The most severe of the scarring cut across his belly in a jagged line, disturbing the smooth lines that cut Naruto's stomach into a six-pack.

 

With his back to the room, Naruto slipped on his boxers under his towel, then tugged it off, hanging it around his neck. Neji realized that the scarring faded onto Naruto's back too, creating strange shadows onto the play of lean muscle—hardly noticeable in comparison to the scarring on his front. He snagged a pair of baggy shorts and a long sleeved shirt that was worn cuddly-soft with multiple washings.

Naruto rubbed his hair vigorously, throwing it into sloppy spikes. He tossed the towel towards the hamper, grabbing a pair of socks, he turned to his companions with a grin. Wielding the socks like some kind of medieval weapon, “Ready to bounce?” He looked confused at the faces of his friends, particularly Hinata's blush.

 

“You have no shame,” Neji announced.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You completely forgot that we were here, didn't you?” Kiba frowned.

 

Naruto sat on the edge of his desk, balanced precariously as he pulled on his socks, “Of course I didn't forget that you were here. What do you mean?” he looked up tilting his head slightly.

 

Neji watched him, incredulous, “Naruto, you got out of the shower in a towel, and got dressed in front of us. Namely, you got dressed from naked, in front of Hinata.”

 

Naruto frowned, “I don't get it.”

 

Kiba stood up, gesturing at Naruto in large expansive arm movements, “You…and the nakedness…” He looked confused at his own inability to express what he was thinking.

 

Naruto laughed, “Are you embarrassed that I wasn't wearing any clothes?!” He ran a hand through his hair, “A body's a body. No big deal.”

 

Neji slowly stood up, “Let's go,” he sighed. “Some how I think that we'd be here all day if we keep trying to explain to this idiot.”

 

“Hey!” they filed out of the room, Neji and Hinata kicking up their boards and Kiba grabbing his skates.

 

 

 

Tbc…to continue or not…hmm…I live on reviews….

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hmm…still no reviews… *pouts*

 

Random notes for those who don't fence:

 

Weapons-three of them, epee, foil, sabre, heaviest to lightest, respectively.

 

Epee- pretty much you poke and hope…j/k. You use a thrusting motion, and can hit anywhere on the body, mask and feet included.

 

Foil- lighter than the epee, same thrusting motions. The target is the torso, you can't get points for hitting the arms, legs, or head.

 

Sabre- lightest of all, you use a whipping motion, known as a cut. The target is the entire upper body, including arms and head. (Generally considered by the other weapons as butcher work)

 

Build wise- Foil and sabre fencers are the smaller of the three, epees are generally larger and taller.

 

Ballestra- if an advance is considered a step, this is considered a hop or a skip, while a lunge is, well, a lunge.

 

Alles- French, begin. Spelling, I have no idea if I'm right.

 

Lunge with forward recovery- the typical lunge is with a backward recovery, from the lunging position; you push off of the front leg, into an en garde position. The forward recovery is from the lunge position; you push off with the back leg, thereby gaining a few feet. This is generally harder, and sometimes, if you lack the muscle strength, you can get stuck in the lunge position, which makes you a sitting duck. Yay! Easy point!

 

Floor judge- since you can score a point on any part of the body in epee, a person from both teams, watch the opponent's weapon to make sure that the point called actually hit a body part, and not the floor.

 

One-two- when you let the tip of your blade dip beneath the other blade switching to the other side of the weapon, then back again. It's used as a feint, usually.

 

Beat- a quick jerk of the wrist to tap the blade of the opponent's weapon to get it out of line, while you begin an attack.

 

French grip- you generally see it in the movies, basically straight, in line with the blade, held in line with the forearm, no fixings. This and the Italian grip are considered more of a traditional grip.

 

German/Belgium/pistol grip- held and shaped like a pistol grip. Looks like your blade is the barrel of the pistol. It's initially more comfortable, but creates problems when put into practice—when fencing, the blade is supposed to be moved by the wrist and fingers, when using this type of grip, it requires a heavier hand, using the entire arm. Considered the lazy man's grip.

 

Lamae- part of the foil or sabre fencer's uniform when fencing electrically. The lamae is a fitted jacket made of fine wire that covers the target area. The fencer is hooked up to a machine, as is the lamae and weapon, when the weapon hits on target, it creates a closed circuit to light up a machine, indicating who scored the point.

 

Bib- looks like a bib, is attached to the front of the mask, guarding the neck/throat. It is usually attached by buttons, allowing for easy removal and clean-up.

 

Six side- the body is divided into sections, if you are a righty, like Kankuro, the six side is the outside or back of your body. Four side would be the inside, or front of your body.

 

Guarding a weapon- practice weapons end with a flat, blunt tip. To protect the opponent more, it I usually covered by a rubber tip. If covered improperly, the tip will often go through the rubber and the metal might get warped with damage.

 

Five points- games go to five points, or who ever has more points after three minutes. Foil generally has the longest bouts, epee next, then sabre. Rarely does a sabre bout go the full length of three minutes, usually done within the first minute. In Olympic style, the points go to fifteen, and the bouts go for five minutes…I think.

 

Lefty/ambidextrous- I kinda feel like I made Naruto too perfect. Leftys are generally rare, but those who are, are usually damn good/hard to play. Naruto is lefty, but like a lot of leftys he is ambidextrous. And yes, having six weapons is extremely excessive.

 

Masks- yes, people can, and do, paint the mesh of their masks. Once I saw someone with a smiley face painted on his mask; frightening really, he was one of the most stone-cold guys I've ever met.

 

General notes:

 

This story came about when I was telling my sister about why Naruto was such a cool character. As I was describing him, I started talking about how generally he's an obnoxious dork, but sometimes, when it really counts, he has these moments of absolute brilliance. Then I went on to talk about why he acts like an idiot, and then it occurred to me, that maybe, just maybe, Naruto is really smart, but he got into the mentality that the way to get attention was to be a prankster, not acting intellectually, not showing how smart he can be. So, I thought, what would happen if Naruto grew up with parents that paid attention to him, and praised him when he did well, ect., ect. And this story was born. Naruto, with a childhood, where he actually was a child for a while, Neji and Hinata without the suckage of their respective houses, you get the idea. Neji was another character that I thought deserved an…er…different childhood. I gave him Hina, and I thought that together, Hina could learn to be tough, and Neji could learn to be great. Because after his comment during the chuunin exam, we know that Neji has a strange sense of humor, I just wanted to cultivate that.

 

Devito is not a legendary fencer, as far as I know; this is a salute to my personal fencing coach. I heart you.

 

What Kankuro did to Naruto, is possible, I've seen it happen at some of the tournaments I've been to. Blood…euch…

 

Brownie points for whoever can figure out which characters are my favorites. ^_^;;;

 

And a gold star if anyone can figure out the significance of Naruto's room number!

 

Next part out in two-three weeks.