Winky is a bad houseelf.
Houseelfs clean and order. They sort and tidy up. They mend and hem. They cook and garden. They care for the children. They carry letters. They wash the dishes and buy groceries.
Most importantly they do all of that quietly and invisibly.
Winky’s small body shudders in pain as the sickly yellow light of the course hits her. She sees the wide eyes of the students she protected. She sees the vicious grin of Lord Mcnair turn disappointed that his course missed its target. She sees Dobby standing a few feet away, his eyes glossy with tears, her name on his lips.
As she slips away she wishes they would all spare her the shame of being seen.
Winky appears with a pop. She does not hear the pop, because she is unconscious when she arrives. But when she opens her eyes and finds a circle of perfect cleanliness, she knows that must have been what happened. At the edge of the circle around her the dirt is almost half an inch high. There is a lot of dust. There are also a lot of crumbs. A sock so stiff with filth that it looks as if a foot was inside it. Winky checks, just to be sure. She has seen a lot over the years. There is no foot inside it, it is just dirt. Very smelly too. Next to the socks there are tattered scrolls. Winky shudders. On the floor! There are torn wrappers of noodles of all things carelessly strewn all over the scrolls.
Winky has already moved outside of her circle. Unspeakable things dig into the soles of her feet. Then her gaze finds the kitchen and her heart almost gives out. Green furry goo is seeping out of a half opened fridge. Rubbish litters the floor, mostly more of the noodle wrappers, some white little containers with similarly white spoons. There are two knifes stuck in the wall, one apparently serving as a holder for a dishtowel of undeterminable colour and fabric. A bright orange jacket is hanging half on the sink, half on the floor, one sleeve touching the goo that seems to be slowly climbing up the fabric.
When Winky snaps out of her stupor she blushes like a little elfling. How embarrassing! Hastily she pulls both her ears, snips her fingers before her tummy and twirls her hands in prayer to The Great Slob. So many failings! So many years spend in shame! And yet she was granted the most wonderful afterlife. A lonely tear rolls from her eye. Winky sniffles and wipes it off with determination. She will not waste this gift!
Winky normally tries to estimate how long a task will take so she can get the maximum done in the time she has before a human comes and she must not be seen. She estimates four hours for the floor. Then she discovers that the rubbish has layers! She loses a bit of time weeping, to her great shame. But when her six sense tingles and she hastily pops into the wardrobe – which is empty. She has not had time to do laundry yet and there are no clean clothes left! Winky very quietly knocks her head at the wall – she has at least managed to clean a path from the entrance to the bed and the bathroom and has blocked off access to the kitchen. The goo looks as if it will put up a serious fight that might result in casualties if not contained.
The stairs creak and crack as feet stomp over them. The door squeaks in its hinges. Winky makes a note to oil it. Though a crack in the not quite fully closed wardrobe doors, Winky can see the room. A little blond boy enters the apartment and sighs. His clothes are filthy and have holes. They hang of his tiny frame. Why, he cannot be larger as Winky! And his cheeks are so hollow! And -
Winky sort of freezes and goes all wobbly at the same time. A little blond boy with blue eyes. There is a high sound in the room, like a dying cat or a wailing dog.
The boy looks around confusedly and questioningly asks some sort of gibberish. The sound cuts off. Winky’s vision goes all spotty. Oh no! She does not want to stop seeing this, this, this wonder, this grace, this wonderful wonderful paradise that she was gifted with. How – oh she is not breathing. Also, breathing is sort of hard, but Winky has lots of experience with not being able to breath. A hefty bash of her head against the wall or well, the inside of the closet, solves the problem. The breathing is a lot easier, even if her head hurts.
But – so loud! Anxiously she snaps her eyes to the little boy. Her new little master! And – he ignores her! The shameful whining, the unseemly noise of her head – he chooses not to hear! He does not want to see.
Winky weeps in bliss.
Winky is a professional. No, Winky was a professional. Then she became a disgrace. Then she became less than a disgrace and then she died. But she will not waste her chance in paradise. Because it could be nothing else. Nothing but an avatar of The Great Slob could ever dirty an apartment this throughout and quickly while spending this little time in it.
Or could eat ALL of the food she makes.
Or rip all his clothes, every day. Even the underwear.
And most importantly: never, ever try to see her!
But if her deity making the boy a little like young master Barty was not enough of a clue that this is her afterlife the trials are. No house elf will ever strive without a challenge.
So yes – also there are trials for her.
Young master Barty-but-not is very loud and very obvious. But there are masked humans. They hide. They listen. They snoop at random intervals. They try to catch her. They try to find her. They try to see her.
Winky straightens her tea towel. It is time to polish up her skills again!
-----
“Grandpa!” Naruto beams and throws open the door. The old man chuckles and asks in that formal way of his: “Naruto. It is very nice to see you. May I come in?”
“Yeah old man! You haven’t been here in forever!” Naruto rolls his eyes and excitedly jumps into the room. There is a tea table with tea and all! He concentrates really hard when he fills the cup to not spill a drop. He turns with the cup in his hand – but the old man is still standing in the doorway, looking all strange.
“Hey, what is it? You want tea or what?” Naruto huffs. Seriously, old people! Always standing around and staring at things. Finally he moves and takes the cup. “Man, you won’t believe what happened today! So you know that Kiba is kind of a dumbass but you know, normally he is that when he talks and stuff, because he is totally mean without reason to me. But like in spars he is usually really good. I mean not as good as me, because I'm like super strong and fast and stuff. Anyhow so we were sparring today and I got him really good you know? I was totally winning. And then in the middle of the spar he suddenly dropped and then Mizuki Sensei was all like :’Naruto you cheated’. And I was like ‘no, duh! I’m just awesome and he is just a loser’ and then Kiba was like ‘A just have a cramp’. And then Mizuki gave me detention. Even though I totally didn’t do nothing!”
“That sounds very exciting.”
“Yeah, right, I – wait.” Naruto looks at him and squints suspiciously. Hmmm. The old man smiles like he means it but he also was totally distracted just now. “Hey! You are totally not listening. Mizuki was mean and Kiba was so faking it!”
“Naruto, say, you have been a lot more orderly lately, hm?”
Naruto blinks. And pouts. Then he looks around and puffs his chest out. “Yeah! I got the cleanest apartment in Konoha! Believe it!”
The old man hums and takes a sip. “Very recommendable. What brought on the change of mind?”
“You were always telling me to tidy up.” Naruto frowns. “So I did.”
The Hokage looks at him. Aw, man. That is so not fair. “I – like maybe someone is helping me?” he tags on and toys with the handle of the cup. The Hokage’s eyes twinkle. Naruto feels his ears go all hot.
“Ah. Well you are still a boy, so that is really okay, even for a strong ninja such as yourself. But who is helping you so kindly, I am wondering?”
“Eh.” Naruto shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe the masksy people. Like once I dropped a plate – not like a good one and I was kinda startled you know? But when I turned the shards were all gone and a masksy guy was at the window.”
The old man hums one of his old man hums and looks at the window real sharp, like there is the masksy guy even though there is no one. Naruto rolls his eyes. Who cares?
“Well so that is very – nice of the ANBU. Not entirely their job, but going the extra mile is hardly something to judge.” Now he is even talking louder. Is his hearing getting worse? Naruto shakes his head and quickly places a saucer under the cup as the Hokage puts his tea down. Tea rings on the table mean the next day there will be an all green dinner. He shudders. At least the old man stops being weird at last. At least mostly. When they go to Ichiraku’s he keeps chuckling fondly. Getting old must be really strange.
----
In the tree outside the window the team on Demon-Watch-rotation is having a drawn out stare down with the team on Hokage-guard. Leaves wilt. Air cackles. A bird drops down from a heart attack.
Then Owl from the Hokage’s guard breaks into a run toward the ANBU headquarters aka the fastest-gossip-distribution-channel-in-Konoha, cackling madly.
“Get her!” Hound orders and breaks into a mad dash to save his teams dignity.
Down on the streets the Hokage starts whistling. It is truly heart-warming that his ANBU are so concerned about Minato’s boy. Why, he would never have guessed them to be so orderly! He thinks about the sorry state of his office and wonders.
The guard ANBU in the tree (one stayed on the job. They are professionals, excuse you!) feels an icy shiver of dread shake her shrivelled little murderer soul.
-----
“…”
“….”
“…..”
Hound briefly toys with the idea to point out that a blinking stare down between masked people is pretty pointless. For all intends und purposes the other could be yawning with eyes closed and you wouldn’t know. Then he remembers that boar has the reputation to toss smart-asses out through the wall and decides to amuse her. Also, superior officer and stuff.
“Hound.” She nails the foreboding voice, he has to give her that. “What the fuck has your team been doing with the Jinchūriki?”
“… I spent the last two months on consecutive assassination missions.” He notes dryly.
Boar throws a kunai at him and he ducks his head to not get it spliced open.
“This all started when your team was on watch duty and I know who your teacher was. They are calling us ‘Cleaning strike team’!”.
“Really? That’s a new one. When we left it was still ‘Sanitation squat’.”Hound muses and quickly dodges the senbon aimed at his crotch. It sticks quivering in the seat.
“Hey! When Tanuki has in his wild years and slept through Konoha while wearing his mask and they made porn named ‘Tactical fuck and blow squat’, you gave him a cookie for being a filmstar rolemodel.”
Boar grunts as if in pain and glower. Finally she grinds out: “Hokage-sama has been making me sort his paperwork and clean his goddamn office. As a fucking S+ mission.”
“Try to see it as a compliment to your confidential household skills?”
Hound has still rough-cast crumbs in his hair when he limbs down the stairs and into the waiting twenty or so ANBU (twelve in the open, four in hiding, two listening in but giving rough estimates is more socially acceptable and Kakashi has been training for a infiltration mission). Seeing his overall state Owl groans and hands over money to Tanuki, who unashamedly counts it with glee.
About four of the others groan in defeat and Hound is pretty sure who is on Hokage duty and Naruto duty next week.
“Taichu,” Weasel asks looking up at him. Hound just about stops himself to pat the kid’s hair. Little adorable murderer kids these days. “Don’t you think that having the house cleaned by an foreign entity is dangerous for Uzumaki-kun and should therefore really be included in our mission report?”
“Mah? I did include it the first time.”
The others are tactfully silent. “… You mean the comic about the black stick figure and the wash cloth? You don’t think that would be ambiguous to interpret?”
Hound shrugs. “There was a questionmark. It is not my fault people don’t get my misson reports.”
Weasel, who has just joined the force two months ago, sighs and looks at Cat dejectedly. “I understand he cares for his dead teacher’s son.” Hound stiffens in alarm. Weasel gifts him with a flat look because he has eyes and is not a moron, thank you, “but my cousin gifted me a duster when I joined ANBU.”
Said cousin high fives Owl. Weasel ignores him. Cat doesn’t and the snicker dissolves into a yelp as a rank sprouts from the floor and makes him stumble and almost fall flat on his face.
“Oh don’t confuse taicho’s stubbornness to admit he has no idea who is doing it with care. He is just too embarrassed.”
Hound looks vaguely betrayed.
----
“Oy! We will be traveling outside the village. Why haven’t you packed anything?”
Team seven shares a look. There is a silent debate who will tell the bridge boulder that they stopped packing, well, anything, because it will just pop up in perfect quality as long as Naruto is with them. It had gone a long way to endear their annoying teammate to the others. Endless bragging and frankly concerning level of obviousness are a lot more bearable when your stomach is full of steak pie (there was a note attached to the next plate when Sakura wondered aloud).
“We will be provided for.” Sakura finally answers with a strained smile. Kakashi’s eye curves happily. Naruto is jumping up and down excitedly. Sakura’s left eye twitches.
“Naruto has a bottle with him though.” They all turn to Naruto. “Why do you have a bottle with you, Naruto?”
“Huh? Oh, it’s hand sanitizer.”
“…”
“Why? You never know how dirty camping might be!” Naruto defends himself. Sasuke hums and nods. Kakashi wonders whether this trend of Naruto’s germ neurosis spilling over to Sasuke should concern him. Then he remembers that leaving spotless crime scenes is sometimes in the mission request. And if not it will always make the victim’s landlord happy, so he mentally shrugs.
“Also – don’t you need to bring weapons at least?”
Kakashi winces. Sasuke scowls. Saruka’s polite smile wavers.
“Ah – we are a no-weapons squat.” The bridge builder stares at them. Sakura stares back. Wisely, the man chooses not to ask further.
In the evening, when they are setting up traps with scissors of all things, Kakashi glares at Naruto.
“What? It is totally not my fault!” Kakashi’s glare intensifies, “Hey, I am not blunting all the weapons. I don’t know who does it, but why are you complaining anyway? This knife chain of the puddle-ninja looked real painful if it hadn’t been blunted. And I guess the claw things could have cut skin!”
Kakashi drags his hand over his eyes. He would have to take remedial taiijutsu lessons with Gai if this went on. When he opens his eyes a nice roast is turning over a perfectly contained fire and tents are set up in the clearing. Tatsuna-san is losing his shit about it. Kakashi grumpily feels a little mollified about having all his weapons reduced to children's toys when around Naruto.
In the morning he notices that the remains of yesterday’s dinner were as always tidily packed to a little compost heap on the side. Strangely there was a lot of plant matter too, some of it almost black and white. Uh. Maybe they will have salad for lunch.