Ayumi's Ninja Way

Shikadai’s bored gaze slid from the chalkboard that Miss Ayumi was writing on to the row of seats in front of him, where he heard his classmate Boruto snickering quietly to himself. Shikadai leaned over the edge of his seat, attempting to find out what was so funny, then scowled when he realized that it was a paper airplane that was so amusing to the young boy. He watched as he folded the last edge, held it up, and took careful aim at the back of the teacher’s head. As he let it fly, Shikadai considered warning the poor lady, then gasped when Miss Ayumi whipped around and plucked the paper airplane right out of the air.

“Boruto,” she sighed, crushing the paper construction mercilessly in her hand. The culprit gulped and slid down in his seat, having not expected to be caught. “If you’re going to make a paper airplane, at least make one that isn’t so noisy when it flies,” she finished with a sigh, dropping the crumpled airplane into the wastepaper basket and crossing her arms primly as she glared disapprovingly at the young boy.

“Man, teach. You may not be a ninja, but you’re still scary…” Boruto mumbled. Ayumi just rolled her eyes and pointed to the information on the board.

“What’s scary, Boruto, is the fact that you lack basic geography. When you become a real ninja, I’m scared you won’t know the Land of Stone from the Hokage Summit!” she scolded, and the class erupted into laughter. Boruto didn’t find this very funny, and continued to mumble under his breath. “What was that?” Ayumi asked threateningly, and the boy fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Nothing! I said I’ll study!” he yelped, and Ayumi smirked slightly, deciding to let the boy off the hook this time.

“Good. I hope you all study, because I’ll be quizzing you on this tomorrow,” she warned, and a collective groan filled the classroom. Ayumi ignored it and announced, “Class dismissed!” As the students filed out of the building, chattering to each other, Shikadai walked over to Ayumi’s desk and carefully set a package down. Ayumi turned from erasing the board, looking at the young boy with a curious expression. “Shikadai? What’s this?” she asked, taking the package and looking over it. It was crudely wrapped, as if the young boy had done it himself.

“It’s a present,” the boy answered, shifting uncomfortably. “I thought you might like it…” Ayumi smiled softly and unwrapped the boxy shape, gasping when the paper fell away to reveal an old, painstakingly illustrated tome. As she flipped through the pages, her eyes lit up in excitement.

“Shikadai, this is wonderful! Why on earth would you get me something like this? I imagine it was so expensive…” she murmured. Shikadai looked away guiltily, but Ayumi didn’t notice, continuing to inspect the pages happily.

“Well, I wanted to thank you somehow for bringing me to my dad and stuff,” he answered. Ayumi smiled and closed the book, straightening up.

“Shikadai, you don’t need to thank me for that. It was my pleasure,” she smiled. Shikadai propped his arms on the desk and plopped his head down, glancing up at her as she continued to finish preparing to leave.

“So why aren’t you a ninja, Miss Ayumi?” he asked, then instantly regretted it when he saw the older woman tense up. She then continued to go about her business, as if nothing had happened.

“I just decided that it wasn’t my path in life, I suppose,” she sighed heavily, sitting down in her chair when she was finished. She stared down at the book, swiveling slightly in the chair. “My father was a ninja. He taught me the basics, but when it came time to enroll in the Ninja Academy, I ran away,” she laughed. “He found me in the woods sleeping under a bush, but rather than scolding me, he just asked me why. I had been interested in history for some time, and had studied a lot already. I told him that I wanted to study history so that we could be better people and stop hurting each other. I guess you could say that's my ninja way.”

“Wow. You’re a really nice person, Miss Ayumi,” Shikadai whistled, and the teacher laughed once more.

“You think so? Thanks, Shikadai,” she mused, then turned in the chair as someone stomped heavily into the building. Shikamaru walked right up to the desk, snatched up the book Shikadai had given her, and grabbed his son by the ear.

“What were you thinking?” he scolded, and his son squirmed in his grasp. Ayumi blinked in confusion, completely floored by the sudden appearance of the Jonin.