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Life in Konoha used to be peaceful, all things considered. Sure, some years ago you could easily find one or two mass murderers around, a handful of beasts trampling the buildings and, sometimes, a maniac with an unhealthy love for snakes, but aside from that, the village used to be much more peaceful before…
…Before whatever it is that's happening in front of his eyes started to be a monthly occurrence.
His vision blurs a little near the edges, but Iruka quickly shrugs it off with a deep gulp of alcohol, the real protagonist around here; it's quite normal for an eye to develop a nervous tick when you see your own previous students engaging in a (un)friendly, probably deadly, spar.
Why couldn't they be a normal bunch of talkative drunkards? At this point Iruka would gladly accept some sensible, crying drunk teenagers instead of these… menaces to society.
A quick slash of air being cut right next to his ear is a fair reminder on the reasons to not give his back to the current battleground happening right behind him; Kankuro, the literal royalty from their most loyal allies, comes flying through his side, a curse catching on his lips once he hits the rough bark of a tree.
Iruka turns to help the young adult, a bit worried about the probable poor state of the kid's back, but the puppeteer barely acknowledges him, raising his glass of… mysterious substance to his lips and cheering when another body went flying away from that maniacal every-shinobi-for-themselves place.
A sigh forces its way past his lips as the chunnin decides to search for the table where the kids put all their alcohol, which is heavily guarded by an strangely amused Kazekage.
He must have shredded his armor, I can see that silver scar Lee gave him during the Chunnin Exams.
“Is this seat taken?”
Gaara tilts his head, narrowing his eyes like he needed help to see past something blurry; the soft, barely-there blush in his cheek speaking of a few too many drinks taken, “Lee was here, but I doubt he'll come back for the time being.”
The Kazekage's eyes go back to the fight occurring some good feet away from them, seemingly focusing on the green figure dashing around the battlefield. Iruka ignores the urge to slap his forehead as Tenten, sporting an noticeable blush due to blatant intoxication, starts to throw her many, many, deadly weapons at the blurry green and pink that are her teammate and Sakura, both having engaged in a taijutsu spar after kick-rocketing away each of their opponents.
Iruka focuses on the various drinks spread around the table, because everything is better than that ; tons of opened beers, scotches, wines, sake, absinthe, vodka and others Iruka won't bother reading the labels of because his patience is vast but not infinite, and Naruto would ignore him for a week if he put an end to this - rather unorthodox - party.
Iruka lifts one of the mysterious, unlabeled ones and sniffs… and almost chokes as the absolutely fool, burning smell of mixed alcohol assaults his nose with the ferocity of one of Naruto's smelly bombs.
Gaara stares, raising one browless eyebrow as the chunnin starts to turn into a sickening green tone.
“Kiba said his beer needed a power up. It all went downhill from there.” the sand nin explains, taking a sip from his… Iruka really wishes it's wine. The pungent smell is a strong counterpoint that he decides to ignore.
“Iruka-sensei!”
The usually loud voice is now even louder, rattling Iruka’s teacher-adapted ears with the sheer volume; Gaara, beside him, ticks one eye, half aborting a hand from covering his ear.
“Iruka-sensei, Shikamaru is getting married!” The blond nin explains, jumping close and attempting to get another bottle. Going by the impressionable red on his cheeks, Iruka makes the responsible decision here and slaps his hand away. “Iruka-sensei!”
“I know, Naruto, you said it this morning, remember?” he mumbles, ignoring the angry pout from his students.
“Oh… I did?” Naruto frowns, trying to find the memory inside his vast, empty, drunk brain. The still-genin turns to his friend as if the redhead could answer all the answers of the universe.
“Yes-”
“shaaAANAROOO-”
Naruto jolts back, wide eyes searching for his teammate before a foxy smile claws its way into his face “Bush brows, Sakura-chan, wait for meeee!”
With that, the blond instantly makes the hand signs for his infamous kage bunshins, a thick mist forming from the amount of numbers on Naruto's personal army before he all but jumps between the two taijutsu specialists, who both simultaneously decide to gang up on him.
Iruka is seriously considering whether it would be better to slam his face till blacking out, or witnessing his former students kill each other over-
“Why are they fighting?”
Fifty minutes ago
“Sakura-chan! Sakura-chan!”
“What, Naruto?” Sakura mumbles, trying to figure out if it would be a good idea or not to let Sai get drunk. The ex-ambu doesn't really have any desire to drink, hasn't even understood why people would poison themselves for fun despite Naruto and Tsunade’s conjunct explanations, but at the pace Kiba is going, she's is fairly sure the Inuzuka will somehow drag her teammate into a competition.
He already dragged Kankuro, Tenten and Ino, after all. Sakura herself is fighting the part of her that wants to get there as well, but one of them has to be responsible here, and goddess knows neither Shikamaru nor Gaara would, the first because it's far too demanding, and the latter because he was the first to get drunk.
Who would have thought… but again, Tsunade did say multiple times that alcohol was the only thing keeping her sane as a Hokage.
“Guess who just arrived?!” Oh, right, Naruto.
“Sasuke?”
“Oh… how did you know?”
He's the only one late, it's not that difficult, “Magic.”
Naruto sticks his tongue at her, crossing his arms and closing his eyes like he used to do when they were kids, “ Ha ha ha, really funny.”
“What can I do, it's in the blood.” she declares, theatrically raising her hair with a hand and pointing her nose upwards.
Naruto stares, silent. “What?”
“Eh, nothing, nothing. Anyway, help me get Teme drunk!”
It's an attractive proposition, in her humble opinion. Still, she has a reputation to maintain, “And why would I do that?”
“Because we want to see him embarrass himself, obviously.”
A twin smirk raises the sides of her mouth, and Sakura doesn't need a mirror to know her face must be mimicking the one on Naruto's.
Somehow, they manage to trick Sasuke into slipping one of Kankuro's devilish alcoholic mixtures, and from that point on the Uchiha was far too gone to care about his broodiness.
Of course, with that unholy amount of alcohol in their bodies, it was an easy thing, really, to convince the others to join the friendly spar . Sakura doesn't even remember why they joined it, but as she ducks down from Naruto's side kick, drinking from the bottle clutched in her hands, she finds out that she doesn't really care either way.
Forty minutes ago
“Are they sparing or trying to kill each other?”
“Sparing.”
“Naruto almost exploded Sasuke's arm. Again.”
“They're sparing,” Shino repeats, lazily watching the vodka move around in his glass, “Why? They're not screaming at each other.”
“That's… actually a good point,” Kiba admits, finishing his powered up beer in one gulp, “plus, Sasuke isn't lore-dumping his past around.”
“What about Sakura, though? That punch there coulda’ve beheaded Sasuke.”
“I'm sure Sakura-san is skilled enough to prevent such things from happening, Kiba.” Hinata says, handing Akamaru another chicken leg. She still has a clear mind, despite Kiba's attempts on making the whole party drunk, but Shino doesn't know how long she will remain that way. He himself had induced in a few glasses, to the despair of the colony in his body.
“That punch could have definitely killed somebody!”
“Sparing”
“Did Sasuke just pull out a katana?”
“Sparing.”
“Is that a mini bijuudama?!”
“Sparing.”
“I think I heard a bone crack there-” The Inuzuka is interrupted, rather roughly, as Naruto barrels into him with the full force of a cannon. They both hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses and death threats. Hinata winces in sympathy, but doesn't move from her spot as Akamaru’s head pillow to help the drunkards.
“HEY YOU GODDAMN IDIOT-
“GET OUT OF MY FACE, YOU BUTT-SNIFFI-”
“Should we help?” Hinata asks, trying to get to her feet, but Akamaru, spoiled rotten by chicken legs, wines, a pitiful sound that cuts right through the Hyuuga’s heart.
“ Sparing.” Shino repeats, watching with interest as Kiba Tunneling Fanged his way into Team Seven’s friendly spar.
Thirty minutes ago.
“Gaara-kun, shouldn't you stop a bit?” Rock Lee tries, again, observing with growing concern as the Kazekage finishes his tenth bottle, though one wouldn't ever guess, based on his blank, unchanged face.
“I'm following medical prescriptions.” Gaara states, calmly reaching for another bottle.
Maybe this time he will pick something light, like wine- Lee’s hopes don't live much longer, as he watches him pick up one of Kankuro's attempts at mass poisoning.
Lee himself, despite Kiba's current and past attempts, hasn't tried alcohol for quite some years, even since one eventful evening involving an almost deadly encounter with a bony fight. His glass of water remains clutched to his hand, safe from rogue drops of alcohol.
“Medic prescriptions from who…?”
“Tsunade.”
“Ehm, Gaara-kun? I don't think Hokage-Sama’s prescriptions are very valid here,” Lee takes one second to regret his choice of words, shooting to his feet and almost tipping over a few forgotten glasses on the table.
In his humble opinion, moving to that table had been a great mistake, for it made it even easier for the Kazekage to indulge in Tsunade's suggestions, but Gaara has been adamant on sitting there after a… rather unyouthful move from Sasuke put the alcohol at risk.
“Tsunade is the greatest medic-nin on this world, Lee. I'd say you should have more faith in your own Hokage.” Gaara says, almost reprovingly. Lee winces at the strong smell oozing from his refiled glass.
“I know! And I will forever be grateful for her, but…”
Kankuro saves him from having to find a way to politely explain why Tsunade, Konoha’s most important political figure, wasn't the best example in regard to alcohol, by shoving a hand in his face and asking, rather rudely, “Lee! Are you done with this glass yet? I need it to test something quick.”
“Oh right, Kankuro-San, just let me…” Lee hushes back to his place, finishing his water in one go and handing it to Kankuro.
The puppeteer frowns, staring at the glass in his hand with something close to disappointment, “Oh, I thought your glass was clean.”
“But it is!” He affirms, confused.
“It is. It's right there,” Gaara says, voice strangely clipped. When Lee turns to face him, there's a familiar, asymmetrical scowl in his face.
He's pointing at a glass. Filled with water.
Oh, and Gaara's glass is nowhere to be seen. Probably because it is currently being held by Kankuro.
Twenty minutes ago.
“He seems to be very receptive to alcohol.” Sai, the other member from Naruto's team, states as he takes two bottles from the table. Gaara doesn't know much about him, to be honest, but he's pretty sure it is for Yamanaka Ino, since the pale man doesn't seem much of the type to drink.
“Indeed,” Gaara accepts, watching as said Shinobi tried and failed to run in a straight line in his pursuit; somewhere down the line, Kankuro had decided to tag along, reason to why he is currently being chased by one angry looking drunkard, who's also being chased by an wild Kiba and a giggling Naruto, Sakura a few steps behind after dragging one passed out Uchiha out of the danger,
“I thought siblings helped each other. Shouldn't you or your sister help him?” it's strange to hear the pale Shinobi talk, like a chalkboard who learned how to speak the words in it, but hasn't quite gotten the hold on the emotions in them
Gaara moves his eyes to the oldest Sabaku, who's busy bribing Shikamaru into a drinking contest. Then he turns to observe the slow motions of his glass, “He's alright. And anyway, both me and my sister have better things to do.”
“I see.” a moment, then, “I believe there's somet-
“Gaaaara-kun! Wan’ fightm?” Lee asks, appearing out of nowhere to ask, for the seventh time, that question.
It's an impressive feat of resistance that he is still awake, let alone on his feets.
“Me and Sai are busy for now, Lee.”
“In fact, I am not-
“Ask me again in ten minutes.” Gaara interrupts the artist, smiling with honest dishonesty, “But for now, I think Temari wants to. Why don't you go ask her?”
The present
“I have no idea.” Gaara answers, eyes never leaving the battle. It's a bit unsettling, but most things about the Kazekage are, as far as Iruka knows. His heart breaks a little when Hinata, sweet, shy Hinata, decides to follow her dreams and join Naruto's personal army.
The whistling of sand startles him out of his life doubts as it flies up, around the table, over his head and even under his feet. The last thing he sees, as the sand starts to condense and close, is Temari and Tenten - covered by… red chakra? - about to shuffle their fans - one, white with purple dots and the other…
Why is his student brandishing one of the Rikudou Sennin’s weapons?
The sheer force of wind, allied with the overwhelming chakra, is enough to knock the air out of him, even under the infamous protection of the Absolute Defense.
Gaara, for his credit, doesn't even look surprised, using the moment to fill his glass with the mysterious bottle of - wine, just wine . If anything, he just looks a bit upset about having to break eye contact with the fight.
“Is it safe to assume this is not the first attempt at public destruction?”
“No, it's not. Mass destruction became allowed around the same time Kankuro tried to use his Performance of a Hundred Puppets,” Gaara points at where his brother must be now, based on the cloud of puppets floating around.
Now it makes sense his protection of the table. Gaara, as if reading his mind, continues, “I came here after Sasuke tried to use Kirin. Alcohol is highly flammable, and it tends to not be greatly cherished once exploded.”
“Sasuke is here? From all of my students, he's one the the few I wouldn't expect to join a drunk brawl!” At least most of the time. The kid is bipolar like that.
“Sakura and Naruto got him drunk. He went feral.” The sand lowers, revealing a mess of twisted trees, unleveled ground, shattered tables and wheezing teenagers. Their table is the only thing still on its feet.
“I can't see him, though?” Sasuke, when sufficiently annoyed, could summon an impressive amount of endurance in a fight, powered by ten thousand generations of sheer stubbornness.
“He fought for half an hour or so before blacking out from intoxication,” the Kazekage says, happy to go back to watching the fight. Seriously, why is he so focused on that? “He's beneath the table, by the way. Sakura put him there and asked me to remember her later.”
Uchiha Sasuke is a lightweight. Iruka wasn't expecting that. He bends to see his student under the table, who's indeed asleep, sporting one nasty black eye and a victorious smile.
Before Iruka can drown himself in disappointment, a war cry thunders from his left, and sand stops Kiba from stomping directly into Gaara's precious cargo as the Inuzuka jumps right over Ino’s head (when had she joined the battle?), Akamaru right behind.
The furtive assault leads to a whole cascade of consequences, as a furious, long rant of curses start to stream from the kunoichi’s mouth. It's loud enough to distract Naruto, who leaves his stomach unguarded and is rewarded by a lightning fast kick from Lee, who then, somehow stumbles into nothing and falls to the ground, blacking out and starting to snore all in one second.
Tenten, busy with trying to dodge Kiba's wild advances and attacking the sand siblings, doesn't see the blond’s body until it's too late, and both her and Naruto collide into a tree.
Sakura and Choji (when had Choji joined this madness?) are the only one unaffected, busy trying to arm wrestle each other. Something Iruka isn't able to see makes them both lose balance, hands loosening and hitting the ground. It cracks, revealing what Iruka could almost swear is sand in the ruptures.
Iruka feels his eye tick again, and takes one grateful look at Shikamaru, Gaara and Sai, “It's quite a relief that you're not indulging in that… activity.”
Gaara wheezes something under his breath, a glint almost maniacal crossing his features before the Kazekage schooled his expression and turned to Iruka, “I am.”
But you’re doing literally nothing, is what Iruka wants to ask. Instead, he tilts his head, confused and just a little dreadful, “I'm sorry, I don't think I'm following…?”
“I'm twisting the ground around their feet each time they try to kick, change stance or stop fighting. It's quite easy to rill up drunk people, they will always blame the next person.” somewhere to his left, Iruka hears Temari cursing something about invisible traps on the ground, “I'm also destroying the underg-”
“My my, that's what I call a party!”
Iruka barely stops his soul from jumping out of his body, already used to Kakashi’s furtive antics.
“Kakashi,” Gaara knowledges, offering a bottle of sake to the ex-ambu and unknowing next Hokage, if Tsunade's dark schemes succeeds on its trap.
“Took you long enough, Kakashi-Sensei!” Naruto yells, angry and almost pierced in two by a strangely familiar red haired puppet. Familiar as in, Iruka is pretty sure he saw it on the Bingo Book.
“Kakashi isn't here yet, usuratonkashi,” Sasuke mumbles in his sleep, the inherent need to talk shit about his sensei far greater than the mortal limits of sleep, “he'll be… over… later.”
“At least I'm late, not lightweight,” Kakashi bites back at his sleeping student, showing how far his maturity goes.
“Kakashi-Sensei! Try the… the purple green drink! It's greeeeat!” Sakura laughs, maniacally, as she tries to help Naruto against the conjunct alliance of Kankuro, Temari and Tenten (weren't they trying to kill each other just two minutes ago?) and only succeeds on kicking a crater on the ground where Naruto was a moment prior. Somehow.
“Tempting, but I'll pass for now,” Kakashi says, accepting the bottle of sake from Gaara and waving to Ino and Choji, who both seemed to be having some kind of early mid-life crisis. The Jounin probably relates to that; Iruka definitely does. “What are they fighting for?”
Iruka shrugs, “Don't look at me, I'm just as lost.”
Gaara ignores them both, raising a new barrier of sand again when a indistinguishable figure dashed at alarming speed in their direction. It's not a flying body this time, at least, but it's equally concerning.
“Gaaaara! Les’ fimghttt?” Lee beams, trying and failing on keeping his usual stance, legs wobbling, unnaturally boneless. The laws of physics are too weak for Lee, it seems, since he's somehow still standing.
“Not now, Lee, we're a bit busy,” Gaara smiles, his words coming out with the cadence of something that has been repeated multiple times, “ask me again in a few minutes.”
Lee shrinks, tearing up; his complaints are cut short when Kankuro starts to curse Temari for betraying him loud enough to drag the fighter’s attention, who bolts back to the fight.
“How many times have you said that?” Kakashi asks, raising one brow. Iruka sees the noticeable amount of alcohol missing from the bottle. How did he drink that much? I didn't even see him put down his mask!
“Lee has an… exceptionally low resistance to alcohol.” Gaara informs the obvious, dodging Kakashi's question with the subtleness of a sandstorm.
Iruka lets it go, changing the topic, “and how much did he drink?”
Kakashi doesn't let it go, though, ignoring Iruka, “I'm sorry, I must have missed. How many times did Lee ask you to fight?”
"Dynamic~
Iruka frowns at the man, annoyed at being ignored, and very much not petulantly decides to not warn him from the incoming danger. Gaara, the tactical war strategist, seems to decide that's indeed the best course of action as a much bigger green blur runs past his lazy defense.
"ENTRY!"
The grown-up version of Lee saves Gaara from having to reveal his deceiving nature, and Iruka winces in sympathy when a loud flying kick sends the masked jounin flying straight into the middle of the brawl, Might Guy right behind.
Unfortunately, their contributions to the drunk brawl is short lived as the ground start to shake, loose like sand - as if someone had been grinding the underground stone beneath it secretly.
Iruka only has time to glare at the Kazekage (who's sporting a... deeply unsettling smirk) and facepalm, dreading the mess and the time it will take to clean it all up, before the ground gave out beneath his feet.