Just Another Day [Invite Only]

They weren't.

Yuna Uchiha knew her daughter hated mornings. It took her progeny forever to crawl out of bed, and even longer still to be a pleasant person after waking. However, that did not change the simple fact: the Academy started a little bit after the crack of dawn (around 7:30ish). At nearly five past the hour already, Natsuki would probably be late. Those constant tardies were the only blemish on an otherwise academically pristine record. Yuna waited a few moments, and only heard her daughter shift in bed with no other prominent movement. While shaking her head, the elder Uchiha, opened the door; a nasty wooden creak followed, causing Natsuki to draw the ample amount of blankets (three) over-top of her body.

Remaining silent, Yuna, approached the bedside and firmly brought a hand beneath the sheets. In one motion she tore the blankets off (sheets and all), and with another yanked the pillow out from beneath Natsuki. When her daughter still didn't budge, she turned and also slipped the blinds up - letting in as much sunlight as possible. Natsuki whined. It streamed right onto the preteen's body. "It's a lovely day," Yuna said. "You'll need to gather your things and skip breakfast sweetie. Unless you wish to be late again." She started for the door, but halted to glance around the cluttered room. Aside from the ever-present leaning tower of books, at least Natsuki's clothes were in their proper drawers today. "Your father and Ayame are already waiting outside."

"Ugh, mornings are bullshit." Natsuki quipped aloud after several moments of being lost in the quiet (with her face still pressed against the bed), and after she assumed her mother departed. Unfortunately, the Uchiha Matriarch knew better than to leave before the preteen fully awoke, and thus, still lingered by the door. Natsuki could feel that scowl, and knew right away: she should have paid attention, listened for her mother's footfalls and the awful squeals of applied pressure on hardwood stairs. Me and my big mouth, she intoned.

"I see your dad is still in the habit of cursing around you," Yuna replied more amused than angry at the foul language slip up. He's still smoking behind my back too - as if I can't smell it on him. "I'll have a little talk with him later. As for you, get your butt moving." And with that brief command, Yuna effortlessly retrieved Natsuki's Academy attire and laid it out. "Get dressed - your lunch is on the counter. And, try not to act so embarrassed by your father today."

Hatsuo Inuzuka (Uchiha to most for over a decade), had been walking Natsuki to the Academy since she started years ago. He would be damned if such a tradition would die so soon before her graduation. I know she can take care of herself, and my presence mortifies her, but, I refuse to lose these moments right now. When the Uchiha Youth finally appeared on the porch, his canine companion immediately bounded over to her; attacking with licks and nuzzles, but in the process, nearly knocking her to the ground.

Ayame, as most dogs raised by the Inuzuka, happened to be nearly twice Natsuki's body weight. Hatsuo chuckled at the display, approaching his daughter with a contagious grin. She still appeared half-asleep with that satchel full of materials slung around her shoulder; clutched as she endured Ayame's affection. But, she smiled as well. Heh, shouldn't worry so much. If anyone tried to harm her, they'd probably get a mauling for their trouble. He patted Ayame as he arrived beside her. "Ready for another day then?"

"Not really, another hour of sleep would have been lovely, dad."

"You can nap in first period, I won't tell," came the reply. Hatsuo winked - just another day after all. Maybe, but soon life, would be a whirlwind of emotion and stress - graduation ever near, or so she thought anyway: the life of a Genin in Konohagakure wouldn't be precisely glamorous. She'd have plenty of time to read at least; speaking of which Natsuki retrieved a book and began to leaf through it as her 'escort' of dog and man led the way. It wouldn't be a far walk to the Academy.