Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the past...

It started like this:

Team 7 suffered the loss of Sasuke and was consequentially all but disbanded. Not on purpose, but things just fell apart. Sakura went to Tsunade for tutelage and Naruto did the same with Jiraiya, leaving the village in the process.

Iruka didn’t know Kakashi then, not really. He mostly knew what the people of Konoha in general knew; that Kakashi was a highly skilled shinobi of questionable moral character. All of his knowledge about him came from rumors or from Naruto. Prior to the formation of Team 7, Kakashi and Iruka had only interacted a few times.

Naruto had changed that somewhat, serving as something of a link between them. He had frequently mentioned Kakashi in his stories. And whenever Kakashi and Iruka were in the same place at the same time – like in the Mission Assignment Room – Naruto had been a topic to bridge the gap between them, allowing them to talk from sensei to sensei, in a way. Not that that had given Iruka much more insight into Kakashi himself. But now Naruto was gone. Leaving Kakashi as a jōnin-sensei without students. And Iruka without his favorite troublemaker.

Iruka rarely thought about Kakashi those days. When he did, it was mostly favorably. In the privacy of his own mind, Iruka had long since thought that Kakashi was attractive, in spite of his mostly concealed face. This little attraction had started when Iruka had first been on a mission with him – the almost disastrous one that had led Iruka to realize that he wanted to be a teacher. Thinking back on it, Iruka could only describe Kakashi as art. Every movement he made in a combat situation was deliberate and precise. His body was an instrument of everything a shinobi was supposed to be and Kakashi was its virtuoso. How could Iruka not have gotten lost in the experience of Hatake Kakashi in action?

Iruka had never told anyone about these feelings and if he had his way, he was going to take them to the grave. Crushes like that were meant for schoolboys, if for anyone at all. They were phases you grew out of, not something for a grown adult to feel. So, he kept his lingering thoughts about Hatake Kakashi to himself.

It wasn’t as if it mattered, anyway. Attraction wasn’t enough to build a friendship. An appreciation of someone’s skill and physique hardly made for fertile ground to grow something meaningful on. Iruka could enjoy Kakashi’s looks and the sound of his voice while knowing that such feelings were superficial and that it was only a matter of time before their friendly acquaintanceship, given to them by Naruto, was going to deteriorate completely.

Iruka wasn’t particularly aggrieved by this. After all, Kakashi was something of a lazy, arrogant ass and Iruka wasn’t so spellbound by attraction as to forget about that.

He wasn’t prepared to be wrong, though.

It was an evening in winter, only a few weeks after Naruto’s departure. The icy wind was howling through the streets outside and Iruka had made the brave decision to try and reduce his visits to Ichiraku’s in favor of cooking at home. Healthy diet leading to a healthy body and all that. It wasn’t the first time that Iruka had made this decision, but he hoped that his conviction was going to help it stick this time. Determined, Iruka had opened the fridge after coming home from the Academy only to instantly realize that it was embarrassingly empty.

That had led to a trip to the small grocery store around the corner, where he was currently hemming and hawing over what to buy. Or what to cook in the first place. It was quiet, the most notable noises being the humming from the lamps and the refrigeration and the occasional turning of a page as the cashier – the only other person in the store – was apparently reading.

Iruka had optimistically assumed that going to the grocery store was going to be enough to inspire him. He had hoped that something was going to strike his fancy and he was going to know what to cook and shop accordingly. But reality wasn’t so kind. He had already been in the cramped, artificially lit store for fifteen minutes and all he had in his shopping basket were a small assortment of vegetables and sauces that weren’t likely to ever come together in a cohesive meal. Iruka looked over his sad selection. Maybe a stir-fry. Surely, things could work together in a stir-fry.

The bell of the store rang, announcing another customer, and Iruka immediately started to feel unbearably self-conscious about the confused mess in his shopping basket. He had a feeling that anyone who had even slightly more cooking experience than he did was going to be able to tell that he had no idea what he was doing.

He ducked around the corner into one of the aisles to avoid being spotted by the newcomer. He knew he was being ridiculous as he did it. After all, who were they to judge him for his shopping habits? At least there were some vegetables in there, rather than just cup ramen. And this person probably wasn’t even going to care anyway. They didn’t have the right to, at least. And yet, Iruka could immediately name at least three people who were going to give him crap about this for weeks.

The new arrival started to wander the aisles at a slow pace.

Iruka decided to find out whether it was someone he knew and peered around the corner into the aisle he’d heard the footsteps head into. Only to see Hatake fucking Kakashi putting a tub of miso paste into a shopping basket like a normal fucking person. What the hell. Iruka realized that his shock was perhaps a bit unjustified. Kakashi was, as far as he knew, a human being who probably ate food every now and again. But it felt wrong to see him like this, shopping for dinner. Hatake Kakashi belonged on battle fields or in tree tops or in front of the Mission Desk. Not in the soup stock aisle of a small grocery store with a mediocre range of products.

Kakashi looked a little worse for wear than someone in this situation was perhaps supposed to. His uniform was scuffed and dirty with what could very well have been blood. His visible eye indicated exhaustion much more than boredom and his slouch seemed to speak of recent exertion rather than laziness.

Kakashi looked up and Iruka hid behind the corner of a shelf. He cursed himself internally. There was no way in hell shinobi-legend Hatake Kakashi hadn’t noticed him and it would have been way less weird to simply greet him instead of hiding from him. But the mistake had been made and he couldn’t very well go up to him to fix it now.

The only option was retreat. Iruka once again examined the contents of his basket. They were going to have to do. It was better for him to make his exit now before Kakashi and him ended up in the same aisle and Iruka was either going to have to ignore him or give him the most awkward greeting of his life. Both of which were going to risk Kakashi seeing that Iruka – a grown adult in charge of children – was unable to complete the basic task of grocery shopping for a meal.

Mortifying. Iruka headed straight toward the register.

The cashier put her book aside as he approached and took the basket from him. She began to wordlessly ring up all the items. Iruka avoided meeting her eyes and reached for his wallet. Only to find his pocket empty. His heart sank. He tried the other pocket. Nothing. He started to pat down all the pockets and pouches that his uniform had but came up empty. Just then, the cashier told him the total and began to bag his items for him. That’s when Iruka remembered. He had left his wallet in his teaching bag. And his teaching bag at home.

“I’m sorry,” he started, face hot with embarrassment. “I seem to have left my wallet at home.”

The cashier – a young civilian woman wearing dark makeup – gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look complete with an annoyed twist of her lips and a raised eyebrow. Iruka wanted to sink into the floor. “Do you want to go home and retrieve it?” she asked, already pushing the shopping bag aside.

Iruka looked at his bagged groceries. His sad, sad groceries. “I-”

“Will this cover it?”

Before Iruka had a chance to process the question and its origin, a gloved hand held out a bill. The hand deposited the bill on a small tray sitting on the counter and pushed it toward the cashier. Iruka whirled around to find Kakashi standing awfully close behind him. Kakashi took a step backwards and slipped his hand into his pocket. His other hand was holding a filled shopping basket. “Kakashi-sensei.”

Iruka heard the cashier type something into the register. He turned to her. “Wait.” She paused, her irritation visibly growing and Iruka already knew with absolute certainty that he was never going to return to this place. Not even if it was the last grocery store in Konoha.

He looked back at Kakashi. “You- You can’t do that.”

Kakashi stared back. “I think I just did, sensei.”

“But you- you don’t know me. You don’t know whether I’ll pay you back.”

The corner of Kakashi’s visible eye crinkled with amusement. “Will you not pay me back?”

“Of course I will! I mean, I would!”

“Then there’s no problem, right?”

“Why would you do this?”

Kakashi shrugged. “It seems unnecessary for you to have to go home and come back just because of this. It’s already dark out and not to mention very cold.”

Iruka wasn’t sure how to respond to this. He had expected many things from Kakashi. But not this casual act of kindness. Kakashi was not known for his kindness.

“Sir?” the cashier prompted, holding up Kakashi’s money. “Can I use this or not?”

Iruka hesitated. He eyed Kakashi, looking for signs of discomfort or pressure or regret. But Kakashi was either completely non-plussed or far too good at hiding even the slightest sign of emotion. “If you are sure, Kakashi-sensei…”

“Absolutely.” Kakashi produced a mission report scroll from one of the pockets in his uniform. “I’ll be paid soon, anyway.” He smiled.

“Sage help me, Hatake-san, you brought it with you to buy groceries?”

“Maa, the Mission Desk was already closed for the day when I got there. I believe you’ll find it’s very safe with me,” Kakashi explained before putting it away.

“As long as you’ll keep it far away from your dinner plans,” Iruka muttered. A bag was shoved his way by the cashier and the tray with some change sat beside it. Iruka took the plastic bag. He looked at Kakashi, searching his face once more. Then he bowed. “Thank you, Kakashi-sensei. This was very kind of you. I will pay you back the next time we see each other, of course.”

“Ah, please stop bowing. It’s really not necessary,” Kakashi said and Iruka was surprised to hear his usually bored drawl uncharacteristically affected by discomfort.

Iruka straightened his back and met his eyes. “Of course it’s necessary. You helped me out when you absolutely didn’t have to. It’s thanks to you that I get to go home now. And I appreciate that.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. Besides, it’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

Iruka paused. He wanted to believe that that was the case. But if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t so sure. Iruka had a petty streak and if their positions had been reversed, he might have just scoffed at Kakashi’s unreliability instead of gallantly stepping in to help. Or, perhaps he would have helped, but not been nearly as gracious about all of it. “Of course,” he replied quietly in spite of his thoughts. “Ah, well, I don’t want to keep you any longer.” He bowed again, not as low that time. “Have a good night, Kakashi-sensei. And thank you again.”

Kakashi hummed. “Goodnight, Iruka-sensei.”

As Iruka passed him on his way out, he noticed the contents of Kakashi’s shopping basket: Miso, kombu, tofu, scallions, eggplant, shiso leaves and ginger. Things that looked like they could actually be part of the same meal. Damn it.

Iruka ended up not actually using his sad groceries for dinner that evening. He couldn’t think about what dish to make with them and he felt a little guilty as he put them away in his kitchen only to turn on his heel and head out, braving the chilly air once again to get ramen, instead. He promised himself he was going to use the groceries in some way if only to honor Kakashi’s act of kindness.

When he arrived at his shift at the Mission Desk the next day, he subtly inquired whether Kakashi had been by and was oddly disappointed to find out that a colleague had already processed his mission report and that he had been given his next assignment as per Godaime’s instructions. Back-to-back missions. The reality of elite shinobi.

Weirdly, Iruka wondered if Kakashi had had to throw out leftovers because of it. Eggplants and shiso leaves didn’t keep, did they?

That evening saw Iruka in a relatively crowded bar, clustered at a table with his colleagues, listening to whatever gossipy developments were on their minds that day. He learned a lot about people he’d never heard of and new rumors about people that he had. Someone recounted a tale of meeting someone by chance in a restaurant and Iruka was about to share his own strange encounter with Kakashi. Kakashi-gossip was a hot commodity most days, no matter how trivial. But he stopped himself. It didn’t feel right to share that, somehow.

That hadn’t been Kakashi, the jōnin-sensei, or Kakashi, the elite shinobi. It hadn’t even been Kakashi, the bane of the existence of every Mission Desk employee.

That had been Kakashi, just a person shopping for groceries after a hard day’s work and doing Iruka a kindness because he could. It felt precious. Like something that didn’t belong to the Konoha grapevine or to the curious ears of gossiping shinobi. For some reason, even though the entire interaction had been perfectly public and even witnessed by one very annoyed cashier, Iruka felt like it would have been a betrayal to share the story. So he didn’t, treasuring the kind gesture in private.

Iruka had no idea when Kakashi was going to return from his latest mission. And even less of an idea about when they were going to run into each other. He made sure to always have enough cash in his wallet – and to have his wallet on his person – so he could pay him back on sight.

It proved to be completely unnecessary as the next time they saw each other was, predictably, at the Mission Desk.

Kakashi entered the room. After a cursory glance, he got in line at Iruka’s desk. Iruka spotted him immediately and the urge to stand up and slap a ryō bill onto the desk was nearly overwhelming. At the same time it was the last thing he wanted to do because Iruka just handing Kakashi cash ‘he owed him’ was more than enough for rumors to start spreading.

“Thank you for your hard work,” he told the shinobi in front of him.

The shinobi left and Kakashi immediately closed the gap. “Yo, Iruka-sensei.” He held out a scroll.

“Kakashi-sensei. Welcome back,” Iruka said and took the offered scroll. It was a mess, as usual, but when Iruka opened his mouth to properly chastise Kakashi for it, he found his tongue held by the memory of them in a grocery store. He sniffed in disapproval, instead. “Clean up your handwriting next time. You should know this,” he said simply.

Kakashi’s eyebrow rose in surprise.

“Do you want to pick up a new mission right away?”

“Sure, if you’ve got something.”

Iruka nodded and retrieved another mission scroll. He paused to open it, his back turned to the room before going to give it to Kakashi, who accepted it with a nod. Iruka held onto it for a moment longer than necessary to look at Kakashi and say, “It’s valuable, please be careful.”

Kakashi seemed surprised before he nodded with understanding. “I will be.”

Iruka let go off the scroll. “Well, thank you for your hard work.”

Kakashi nodded once more and left, taking the scroll with the ryō bill that Iruka had tucked into it. Iruka couldn’t help but feel a little sad as he watched Kakashi trot off. With the money returned, there was nothing for them to talk about and no reason for them to see each other. Their interactions were once again limited to the Mission Desk.

He had no idea how wrong he was.