The Ice Wielder (Iruka x reader)

84. My Queen

Your eyes suddenly snapped open, darting around the room while your breathed heavily. It had been a while since your last nightmare so getting one was surprising. Calming yourself down, you turned to see Iruka sleeping soundly beside you. His hair was pulled out of it's usual pony tail, spreading out across his pillow. He didn't snore but you could hear his breathing, watching his chest rise and fall beneath the blanket. His arms wrapped loosely around your waist. Wanting to get up, you pushed his arms aside and slid out of bed. Your throat felt dry from breathing so aggressively during your nightmare.

Walking to the kitchen, you opened the cupboard and pulled out a glass. Approaching the sink to fill it with water. The feeling of the cool liquid sliding down your throat was relaxing, instantly curing the pain. Placing the glass on the bench, your eyes drifted to the clock which ticked loudly. It was 11:45, 15 minutes away from the time the man had said he wanted to meet you. Harshly biting you lip, you couldn't help but have an internal battle with your thoughts. He said he only wanted to talk, maybe there was a chance he could be a messenger from your parents. Or maybe, he could be a spy sent to kidnap you.

Glaring at the clock, you released a long, annoyed sigh. You couldn't seem to push these thoughts away, they plagued your mind and bothered you whenever you wished to think of something else. With a mind this clouded, you definitely wouldn't be getting back to sleep. Looking down at your clothing, you noticed that you were wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of pants. Your arms weren't wrapped, the scars and blue marking visible. Slipping on your shoes, you made the decision to go. You were confident in your abilities, if this was an attempt to get you back then you could easily fight and win.

Opening the window, you climbed onto the sill and stayed there, crouched. Looking back into the house, you eyed the clock. Five minutes had past since you had last checked, now you only had ten minutes to get to the graveyard to meet the guy. But you knew he would still be there even if you were late, he said that he would wait and you trusted that he would.

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Leaping onto rooves of buildings, you crossed the village, drawing closer to the wall. By now, only a few minutes had past. You knew that going through the main gate would be stupid so you resorted to climbing the wall and getting over like that. You hated sneaking around, especially in the village that you now called home. You had only done things like this in the mist and frost villages, the two which you were no longer affiliated with.

Reaching the tall, wooden wall, you focused a burst of chakra to you feet and launched yourself upward. Landing on top, you looked back over Konoha and smiled. It was nice being here, in a place where so many people cared for and supported you. Deep down, you missed the Hokage but never showed it openly. He was the reason you were allowed to stay here, you wished that you would've been able to save him as well as killing Orochimaru. A bounty was offered to you but you declined it and gave it to the village, a large amount of money was no used to you now that you had everything that you wanted.

After thinking it through, you decided to continue. The graveyard wasn't too far from the gate, if you ran you could make it in five to ten minutes. Jumping from the wall, you landed gracefully on the dusty ground below. From there, you began running, not wanting to be too late. You leapt up into the trees and used the branches, swinging and flipping between each of them.

Up ahead, you noticed a small campfire. It wasn't giving off much smoke so no one in the village had noticed it. Cautiously, you approached. At this point you had reached the graveyard, the fire was nearby. Passing the continuous lines of tombstones, you moved even closer.

Peaking out from behind a tree, you noticed a muscular brunette sitting beside the small fire. He wore a content smile on his face, you couldn't sense any hostility. His hair was short and pushed back neatly, his face freshly shaven. He gazed into the fire with deep green irises.