Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dad, you need to stop pressuring yourself so much,” Naruto says, handing me the ice pack.

The moment I bring it into contact with my aching back, pure bliss floods my senses. I moan, leaning backwards, letting the ice work its magic on my poor muscles.

“You know it hurts more when the weather changes,” I say, my body unfurling with relief.

“That bastard,” Naruto hisses with a frown, referring to the cause of my injury. “If only I could turn back time, I’d pummel him until he spat blood.” His hands clench to tight fists, knuckles whitening, no doubt thinking of..

Mizuki. Ex friend, ex boyfriend, ex lover, ex everything. Treacherous piece of scum that carved my spine with a blade, because neither me nor my adopted son realised what kind of a sick individual he was until it was too late.

It could have been so much worse, though, all things considered; at least I can still walk, and my precious boy is unharmed.

“Hey,” I say softly, wrapping my palms around Naruto’s fists. “It’s all right. He’s behind bars now. There’s no need to blame yourself, you hear me? You couldn’t have known. Neither could I. He tricked us, he tricked both of us, but the important thing is that we’re still here. You are still here, and so am I.”

“I can’t not blame myself, dad,” Naruto says, shaking his head. “If only I was stronger, I could’ve..” A beat, his gaze locking to mine. Shifting, from regretful to fiery. I know that look. That determined look he gets when he’s ready to fight the world. “Listen, dad. I’ve made a decision. I.. I want to get stronger. So that I can protect you.”

I sigh. Not this again. “Naruto, I..”

“Please,” he adds, fists clenching tighter in my grasp. “It’s not a spur of the moment thing. I’ve been thinking about it all this time, since that bastard got you. Dad, I..” His voice chokes with emotion. “I never want to see you like that again. Ever. What..” A big gulp that sounds like a wail. “What’s the point of being family if I can’t protect you too?”

“Baby, it’s not your job to protect me,” I say, stroking his cheek. My precious child. “It’s mine. It’s mine and I fail–”

“No! ” At this, he’s adamant. “You never failed anyone! In fact, without you neither of us would be here right now,” he says, his fists trembling. “And I can’t.. I can’t.. Dad, please,” he begs, his voice finally breaking.

Fuck, I can’t say no to him. My heart bleeds to see him like this, all my parental instincts screaming at me to comfort my child so that his hurt goes away and never comes back. At the same time..

“I.. Even if I said yes, I don’t know if we can afford it,” I say in all honesty, but Naruto latches on to that small glimmer of hope.

“I can work part time! I’ll get a job to save some money and then I’ll go to that famous dojo, the Hatake one! They’re the best, dad, if I manage to get even a few lessons from them there’s no way anyone is laying a hand on you ever again! I’ll be your number one protector before you know it, you'll never have to worry about anything! For good! All right?”

Naruto fires himself up with such enthusiasm it’s almost contagious. Almost. In an ideal world he’d be able to do what he said, but we don’t live in an ideal world. Nobody wants to see him achieve his dreams more than I do, but I also don’t want him to get hurt if he doesn’t make it. If he’s insistent on this path, maybe we should try setting some more realistic expectations to begin with.

“Kiddo, I hate to rain on your parade but you know that the Hatake dojo is famous for only accepting a handful of new students each year, right? It doesn’t matter how much money the applicants have.” I pull him in for a quick hug, offering him some of my comfort. “Not that I don’t think you’re special, because you are,” I say, tousling his hair, “But we don’t know if you’ll be what they’re looking for. I only..” A sigh. “I only don’t want your heart to be broken if they don’t accept you.” I let him go, but give his hair another affectionate ruffling. “How about we try another place instead, mmm?”

The Hatake dojo may, indeed, be the best one out there, but when it comes down to it, nobody knows its owners’ criteria for selecting their students. Of course they have social media accounts advertising their business like everyone else, but because of their unusual business practices they’re infamous rather than famous. It doesn’t look like they care however, because they never bother replying to or taking down the hateful and trolling comments.

“No! The Hatake dojo is the best and I need the best to protect you! I’ll do whatever it takes!”

Determination courses through my son again, almost making him shake. The stubborn fire in his eyes tells me arguing with him will be pointless. I know from experience that nothing stops him when he gets worked up like this, but I owe it to myself to try, one last time.

“Naru-chan, are you really sure? You have such a gentle heart, too,” I say softly, clasping his hands with both of mine again. “I don’t.. I don’t want you to..”

“I’m not gentle when someone threatens those I care about,” my son counters, eyes blazing, and it’s the simple truth.

I can’t argue that I’m not precious to him. I’m all he has. And he’s all I have. We’ve only ever had each other.

The logical part of me tells me I should support him, but the emotional part of me that always sees him as my precious child wants to hold him in my arms and keep him there forever. Where he’s protected. Where he’s loved. He’s been through so much shit already and he’s not even an adult yet. Our orphanage days may be behind us, but I don’t want him to ever suffer again.

“I should be the one protecting you,” I argue, inwardly cursing my own weakness, but I'm repeating myself.

“You already did,” my son says, leaning forward for another hug. He buries his face in my top, but I’m not sure who is comforting whom anymore. “You already did, dad, and you paid so much for it. I never.. Now it’s my turn,” he adds, voice trembling.

“Foolish boy,” I say, my arms wrapping around him. “I’m your dad, of course I protected you. It doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as you’re safe.” Because the blade that carved my spine? It wasn’t meant for me. It was meant for him. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.” I hold him tighter. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I say, over and over, apologising for everything. For the attack, for our shitty past, for our current circumstances. I wish I was a better parent for him. I wish I had more leftover money to give him his heart’s desires. I wish..

Tears stream down my face. An anguished sob escapes me, my hands clutching at my son. My body switches to comforting mode, rocking us, although my range of motion is limited because of my injury.

“Not your fault, dad, not your fault,” Naruto tries to soothe me, but his voice is broken again. He buries his face deeper in my top while a muffled sob also escapes him, then holds me like he wants to protect me from the world.

We cry together. We cry in each other’s arms, two lost children grasping each other in the dark. Each other’s only family.

Naruto is the first to break our embrace. With a deep sniff, he shakes his head to clear it, then wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “No more tears,” he says. “I’m going to try for the Hatake dojo, all right? Please understand.”

“All right,” I concede, drying my cheeks with the heel of my palm, “But only if it doesn’t harden your heart. Remember the fire inside you, yes?”

“Always, dad,” Naruto reassures me. “That training won’t change a thing, you know it won’t. Believe me.” He’s so adamant about it that I do.

I nod. “I believe you, Naruto. Now that that’s decided, let’s see how I can help you gather more funds. What kind of dad will I be if I don’t try to support you? Maybe I can take on some dancing classes..”

“No, dad,” my son interrupts me, face full of concern. “I’m the one who decided to apply for the dojo, you don’t have to suffer for it. I said I’ll save some money with a part time job, please don’t worry about it. You’re not well enough to teach anyway.”

I wave his worries away. “I’m well enough to open up a few slots, if anyone’s interested.”

Turns out, my professional career may have been ruined forever because of the injury Mizuki caused me, but I should still be known enough that people will be interested in my personal classes if I return to social media. Or at least I hope they will. One good thing my previous fame and micro-influencer status could help me with. Apart from attracting stalking psychopaths, of course.

“Dad, no. You shouldn’t have to,” my kid says. “You left that shit behind for a reason. That’s how that bastard got to you. To us.”

“Sure, but look where we are now.” I motion at our small apartment, the place we ran to in order to hide from the world. “No social media, no extra money. No professional career, no money period. I’ll need to find another way to feed us eventually anyway, because my savings will only last us for so long.”

“But you’re not healed yet,” Naruto insists.

It’s true. I’m not. Not completely. Neither physically, nor mentally. I’ve come a long way these last few months but it still hurts to walk or bend over sometimes, not to mention the small phobia I have developed about blades. I can barely look at a kitchen knife without flinching after the incident. But we are getting low on money and I was going to turn to teaching private dancing classes for income anyway, so.. might as well rip off the band aid.

“Only a handful of slots,” I reassure my son. Seeing him worry at his lip in doubt, I press on, “And I’ll make them extra pricey. If I have to subject myself to the social circus again, we can at least try to get enough money out of it.”

Naruto sighs in defeat. He knows we don’t have many options. “All right. But please be careful?”

“I will,” I promise.

A nod. He reaches for his phone. “And I’ll check when the Hatake dojo opens up applications again.. Oh! They’re opening today?!”

“They are?” I ask, surprised.

“Yes! Dad, listen to this! ‘Apply online now for a spot in the famous Hatake dojo. Limited time offer, open for one day only. Fill in the application form by midnight, local time zone, telling us why you want to learn, and if you’re lucky you’ll become one of our students and receive a full scholarship’??? Dad, this is perfect!”

It is. “It sounds too good to be true,” I say, narrowing my eyes with suspicion at his phone. “What’s the catch? Check if there’s any fine print, or I can do it for you.”

“You’re better at details than I am, dad,” Naruto says, handing me his phone.

I scan the page with my full focus, going through every single line of text, including the font size six ones that I have to squint to make out, but the only extra details I uncover are that the Hatake estate is not held accountable if the applicant is not selected for the promo et cetera. The usual waiver fees involved in a giveaway. I’m familiar enough with social media to know how they work, although the Hatake dojo doesn’t collaborate with sponsors.

Maybe they’ve had a change of heart and are genuinely trying to brighten their image by taking in someone for free? At the end of the day, it’s none of my business. As long as it may help my son and there are no hidden disadvantages, this works in our favour.

“No catches that I can find. I guess it doesn’t hurt to try,” I say, hesitant, but my son snatches the phone away from my hands before I’ve finished my sentence.

“Yatta! I’m going to apply right now, see!” His fingers fly on the screen, typing as he speaks. “I’m Uzumaki Naruto and the reason I want to learn is that I want to protect my dad after he was seriously injured protecting me from a sicko-”

“Naruto! Don’t put our personal life in there,” I chastise him, reaching out to stop him, but it’s too late.

“Aaand, sent!” At my look of panic, he adds, “Relax, dad. I have a different last name than you. But even if I didn’t, what happened to you isn’t a secret. If they do a background check on me they’ll find out anyway, right?”

Kami, grant me strength.

Taking in a deep breath, I run my hand down my face, surrendering myself to the inevitable. Like Naruto said, what happened to me isn’t a secret. Hell, it broke through the usual social media-sphere all the way to traditional news. ‘Self-made golden boy dancer mutilated by jealous lover’, or some similar headline. Everybody loves a good tragedy, right?

Oh, well. If the Hatake dojo does decide to run a background check on my son and finds out about the incident, I have nothing to be ashamed of. Unlike the person who did this to me.

There’s only one thing left for it. Acceptance.

“Kami help us, but you’re not wrong,” I tell my son. “Here, where’s my phone, let me also advertise those dancing classes and see if any people will be interested. Let’s get this over with.”

It takes me a few minutes to reinstall all the apps and remember my passwords, but I manage to log back into my media profiles without much fuss. Good thing I didn’t delete them altogether, which was my first thought during recovery after the attack. I’ve lost a big chunk of my follower counts, which is expected since I haven’t uploaded anything in over half a year, but there’s still a decent amount of people I can reach.

Ignoring all the accumulated unread messages, both good and bad, I clear all past notifications so that I can begin from a relatively clean slate and launch into a quick update on my twitter and insta, announcing the first tentative baby steps of my return to the world. That return being my willingness to teach other people how to dance, for a fee. No refunds. Limited number of slots only, due to personal health reasons. I don’t elaborate further. Not that I need to. My remaining followers should already know what I’ve been through.

Fully expecting to only get a handful of retweets and likes out of pity with about one or two genuine applicants if I’m lucky, because the internet has a short memory span and I have hiked up the prices as I told my son I would, I minimize the apps and throw my phone on the table.

“There. It’s done.”

“Let me give you your first like to get you started, dad! I may only have a few friends, but every little bit helps.” Naruto fiddles with his phone, doing what he says. “Here, let me share… ‘Hey guys, please help out my dad put his foot back in the world, hashtag helpmydad..’ Aaand done.”

There’s no point arguing with my son when he makes up his mind like this. He can be stubborn like a mule sometimes. I’ve also told him to not use his real name for his socials but he insists on ‘Uzumaki Naruto’ because apparently everyone else in his generation is using their real names nowadays. Unlike mine, when everyone would pick a cool-sounding handle or two and stick with them.

The thought of moving with the times and exposing my real name to my social media profiles may make me uncomfortable, but at the very least I can still look out for my boy. Every so often, we run together routine checks through his posts for creeps and predators in the comments, although so far he only has a handful of followers, all of them from his school. For example, I only expect Shikamaru to like this post, if anyone, or maybe Sasuke, my son’s frenemy.

But for now, we have more important things to discuss.

“So, Naruto, I have a very serious question for you,” I say, leaning forward. The ice pack, which has melted during all this kerfuffle, slides down my back, causing a small flare of pain around my scar. “Fuck,” I hiss, flinching, and my son rushes to my side in a heartbeat.

“Dad?” he asks, all concern. “Wait here, don’t move, I’ll get you a new ice pack,” he says, but I wave him off.

“No, it’s fine.” I take in a deep breath. “It’s fine,” I repeat. “It was the sudden movement that caused it. I’ll be better in a moment. Let me only..” I shuffle. “Adjust..” I make myself comfortable again, the flare disappearing. “Ah, so much better,” I sigh with relief. “So, returning to our conversation.. My very serious question was.. what would you like for dinner tonight?”

My son raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Really, dad? That was your serious question?”

“I was trying to be funny,” I say, dejected. I’m too young for dad jokes, but at the same time I am a dad, mid-twenties or not.

“Umm.. How about Ichiraku?” Naruto asks, trying to mask the note of hope in his voice and failing.

Oh, my precious child. If he had it his way, we’d be eating Ichiraku every single day.

I try to reason with him. “Naruto, be reasonable. We had Ichiraku yesterday.”

“We did, but it’s so delicious! I could eat enough of it to burst, it’s that good. Besides, old man Teuchi always gives us a little bit extra. How about it, dad? Please? Please? Pretty please?” He gives me his best puppy dog eye expression, the one that I can’t resist.

“Oh, fine,” I cave in, and he jumps up and down with joy.

“Yosh! I’ll go order right now! You stay right here dad, don’t move a muscle! I’ll be right back before you know it!”

“Take your phone with you,” I remind him before he gets out and he throws it in his pocket after a handful of notes from my wallet and his keys. “And be careful out there!”

“Will do, dad!”

The door clicks on his way out.

He doesn’t necessarily need to take his phone with him when Teuchi’s ramen stall is literally under our feet, on the ground floor of our apartment building, but after my experience with Mizuki I’ve grown more cautious. Naruto’s phone is now customised with special alarms, panic buttons, the works. If anything happens to him, both I and the local police department will know about it at once. After Mizuki’s attack, a couple of the local police officers became casual friends of ours. Ibiki-san may look intimidating, but he’s got our backs.

All I want is for us to be safe and healthy and happy, is that too much?

My attention returns to my phone. I’ve turned off notifications, but it’s been a few minutes. Has anyone applied for my services yet or are we dead in the water? Only one way to find out.

My phone feels like an oxymoron on my hand. Reassuring in its solidity, but distressing because of its potential contents. With only a small wave of dread, I check my socials.

As expected, my accounts aren’t what they used to be. The amount of current engagement is pitiful compared to what it was, no big surprises there. However, the most expensive of my slot tier, the single ‘I’ll coach you one on one, one hour daily for a month’ platinum package option that I put there as a joke and would be enough to feed me and my son until the end of the year has been booked. Or attempted to be booked. By one account: ‘Dog lover Henohenomoheji’.

Is this person serious? Do they really have that kind of money to spare?

I frown, suspecting a scammer or a troll, so I pivot to their profile.

It’s a man, I think, but he hasn’t uploaded any new pictures since the pandemic; not that there are many to begin with. Gravity-defying silver hair, although his skin looks youthful. Surgical mask, as most people back then. And an eye-catching scar. Literally; it runs in a vertical line from straight above his left eyebrow down his eye, carrying on until it disappears under his mask.

Ouch. I wonder what happened to him, but I know first hand how annoying it is to have curious people ask you how you got this or that mark on your skin. My fingers rub the scar on the bridge of my nose by reflex.

Anyway, scarred or not, he could still be a scammer or a..

Wait a minute. Wait wait wait a fucking minute. What’s this?!

Right there, a few rows down, is a photo with over a hundred thousand likes, unlike the usual dozen or so for this account. I click on it; of course I do.

It takes my brain a moment to process what it’s looking at. My eyes widen when I recognise the other man in the picture, so I read through the tags to confirm I’m not dreaming and sure enough, this post is tagged with the Green Beast of Konoha himself.

‘Hanging out with my best friend and eternal rival,’ says the caption, with my Henohenomoheji guy and Green Beast Gai drinking coffee together.

He’s friends with the Green Beast of Konoha?!?!

Everyone knows Green Beast Gai. He has, oh, about three hundred million followers on youtube? More? His usual videos have titles like ‘I built an entire house from scratch while doing jumping jacks from start to finish and then donated it to a homeless family,’ or ‘I cooked for an entire orphanage while jumping rope and then surprised all the orphans with loving adoptive parents,’ or ‘I did push ups for ten hours straight for charity and then used that money to buy an ambulance for my local hospital,’ or ‘I built two hundred wells around Suna with my bare hands while doing squat jumps.’ One gets the idea. He may be a bit of a fitness freak, but he has a heart of pure gold and he donates so much back to the community that everybody loves him.

If my henohenomoheji man is friends with Green Beast Gai himself.. he can’t be that bad, can he? Gai is a fucking angel, no matter which way someone looks at it. He wouldn’t have a scammer for his best friend. There’s no doubt in my mind that they’re friends; Gai wouldn’t leave such a fabrication in the caption of a photo he has tagged himself.

Not sure what the rivalry part is about, but they look congenial enough in that picture, so I’ll take it as the usual social media exaggeration of reality. In all likelihood it was simply a way to make the caption sound cooler and drive up user interaction. I know how it works. I used to play the game myself.

All right, mystery man. I’ll bite. I click ‘accept’ on his offer, which will send him an automated payment invoice. When it has been processed and I receive my receipt of transferred funds, I’ll reach out to him with my contact details and ask him his preferred time schedule.

“Dad, I’m home!”

“You’ll never believe this, but we may be able to get some good money,” I tell my son and motion him closer.

“What? Really?” Naruto jogs to my side, the steaming stack of ramen bowls tilting precariously in his arms. Trusting him to not drop anything, only because ramen is his favourite food in the world, I angle my phone screen towards him. “That’s great, dad! What happened? Lemme see!” He lays the food and his keys on the table, then takes my offered phone from my hands. His eyes widen when he spots the amount on the invoice. “Whoah.”

“It hasn’t been paid yet but hear me out..”

Chapter Text

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘Would it be easier to meet in your place or mine for my coaching? I don’t mean to pry, but I’m aware of your injury.’

I’d be surprised if he wasn’t, to be honest. Even if he found my posts via pure luck, my last updates before I went dark announced to everyone that I was leaving, as well as a few words about why. Not that the traditional news outlets didn’t fill in all the remaining sordid details back then. He’d have to be a hermit to have missed the story.

The DM stares at me, unassuming, although there’s a man behind those printed characters. A man who has paid good money for my private dancing lessons. In fact, he’s the only one who gets one-on-one time with me and my undivided attention; every other slot was for group classes.

My eyes dart around our rented apartment, knowing full well that it isn’t suitable. Not enough room, not to mention that the thought of inviting someone else in my family’s private space without knowing them at least a little scares me somewhat after what happened with Mizuki. Not that anyone would blame me though, I think.

My alternative is to direct him to the small studio next door which I’ll be renting for everyone else, but since he has paid for the ‘platinum package’, the ultimate choice is his. For the amount of money that he’s spending, the least I can do is accommodate his preferences to the best of my ability. Within reason, of course. As long as he doesn’t live too far away, I should be able to make it to wherever he is without impeding my recovery. Public transport in Konoha is reliable, although I’ll need to be sitting down during the journey if the ride is longer than a couple of stops.

Needless to say, if I’m going to his place I’m also having at least four other people know at all times: Naruto, Teuchi, and Izumo with Kotetsu, the married couple next door who helped my son save my life all those months ago. My new best friends. Unlike Mizuki, they’re the real thing.

And maybe Ibiki-san, because one never knows.

All right, Iruka. You can do this.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘You paid for the platinum package, so the choice is yours. If you feel more comfortable in your place, I can make it. As for my wellbeing, as long as you live near Konoha I’ll be fine. Thank you for checking, though. I appreciate it, truly.’

Not everybody would be so considerate. People tend to get entitled when they pay for services. More so when they pay high figures, like he did.

His reply doesn’t take long to arrive.

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘I will come to you, then. It should be better for you. And if it helps you feel safer, please also forward my contact details to your friends and family. Or have them sit through our lessons. Or both. Whatever you prefer.’

Oh, shit. Is he for real?

This man must be a knight, or a saint. I haven’t had many of my regular followers act with such genuine concern over my wellbeing since I was attacked, let alone a random stranger. No wonder he’s friends with Green Beast Gai if he means it. Not that I see any reason why he wouldn’t. I’m not as known as I used to be, not that I used to be that big in the first place, and I somehow find it difficult to picture him lying about something like this. One never knows I suppose, but..

Again, worst case scenario my friends and family will already know where I am. And since he not only doesn’t mind but is encouraging me, I’ll try to bring along Izumo and Kotetsu as well, at least for our first lesson until I get vibe check verdicts from both of them. I may be willing to see the best in people, but I’m not stupid. Not anymore.

My friends will be delighted for the chance to watch me in action, so this will be more along the lines of free entertainment for them, but at the same time great support for me. Both physical and emotional. My only concern is potential working schedule conflicts, but since Kotetsu works mostly during nights and Izumo evenings, we should be able to figure something out earlier in the day. As long as henohenomoheji dude is also available around then, that is.

I text my client my studio address and we finalise his timetable according to our combined availability. Since lo and behold wonder of all wonders my son managed to somehow win that coveted scholarship position in the Hatake dojo, I’ll have to juggle my dancing lessons around Naruto’s classes, but in the end henohenomoheji guy and I manage to iron things out. Since he also works in the evenings, we make arrangements for noon. Perfect.

Which reminds me, I should ask for his name. I can’t call him Henohenomoheji guy when we meet, as fun as that would be for a first introduction.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Apologies if this sounds rude, but what would you like me to call you?’

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘You mean Dog lover Henohenomoheji doesn’t roll off the tongue?’

I snort, almost choking on my tea as I read his message. So, compassionate and with a sense of humour. I need to proceed with caution here. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Whatever the platinum package customer likes. See you tomorrow, Dog lover Henohenomoheji-san.’

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘Will be looking forward to it, Bottlenose back flip-san. But for the sake of brevity, feel free to call me Kakashi.’

“Kakashi.” I roll it on my tongue, trying the shape of it. Its sound. The way it dances in my mouth. “Kakashi,” I repeat, slower, savouring it.

A name to go with that mysterious face: Kakashi.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Thank you, Kakashi-san. You’re probably already aware of my name, but in case you aren’t.. it’s Iruka.’

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘I wasn’t, until now. Thank you for trusting me with your name, Iruka sensei. And please, no honorifics. Kakashi is fine.’

I blink, trying to process what I’m reading. He didn’t know my name. There’s no doubt he read about my injury, hell, it’s right there in my last posts right before I went dark, but he didn’t know my actual name. Even after I made national news headlines for a week when it happened. Did he.. did he live under a rock at the time? Was he away from the country and missed it?

He.. He must have, somehow. How.. How did he find me and decide to book me, then? Was it pure chance? Does he often browse to random stranger profiles and help them out?

His best friend springs to mind again. Green Beast Gai. Maybe.. Maybe, like Gai, Kakashi also does random acts of kindness, although unlike Gai's they’re smaller and he doesn’t like advertising them to the world. I can’t come up with another explanation. Not that I’m going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He has been a gentleman so far in our communications, although of course direct messages differ from real life.

We’ll see if he passes the vibe check tomorrow. Mizuki did, but I could always tell there was something.. a little bit off about him. It felt like no big deal. Until it was. And I won’t let my guard down unless Kakashi also gets a pass from both Izumo and Kotetsu. Because three vibe checks are better than one.

When I go to bed, for the first time in ages I keep my phone near me, and I don’t even know why.

In my dream, I’m dancing. I’m dancing, and I’m floating on a cloud, and nothing hurts. It’s amazing. My partner is warm and attentive, his sole focus on me, and I somehow know that I’m the centre of his world. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know what he looks like, he’s the centre of my world too. Because apart from my partner, he’s also my groom and husband, and this is our wedding dance. A dance for the ages, while red rose petals flutter all around us and our hearts beat in sync.

Morning appears faster than I’d want it to, but my son’s screeching alarm clock doesn’t let me sleep in.

Bleary-eyed, I stumble to his room, because there’s only one way my son is getting up, no matter how long the alarm clock rings for. I swear he has selective hearing to be able to block it out to this degree. Unlike me, he’s capable of letting it ring for hours without raising an eyelid. I turn the damn thing off, because right now my eardrums are the only ones getting hurt.

“Naru-chan, time to wake up,” I say, yawning while I pull away the covers.

“Five mmmore mmminutes,” he mumbles, trying to roll over, but since he’s no longer covered he frets.

My son can’t fall asleep if he isn’t covered with something, doesn’t matter how hot it gets. Sheets and blankets provide him with a sense of safety and comfort, a remnant need from his shitty orphanage days he hasn’t been able to shed. And since he can’t fall asleep without being covered.. that’s also how he gets up. Does a small part of me feel guilty about exploiting his weakness to get him out of bed? Yes, but his school attendance is more important.

“Come on, baby, you have to get up or you’ll be late,” I coax him.

“Daaaad,” he whines, but he’s half-awake now.

Close enough. All he needs is one more push. “I’ll make you red bean soup for dessert tonight if you’re out of this bed–”

“I’m up! I’m up, see!” He jumps out of bed like he’s hit by an electric current, heading straight for the bathroom.

“If I knew all I had to do was promise you dessert, I’d be doing it more often,” I grumble behind his back, but there’s no heat in my words.

Since he entered puberty a couple of years ago, his sleeping schedule has become a mess. Well, not exactly a mess, but he often feels tired for no reason and sometimes even dozes off in class, wrapping himself with his jacket as a makeshift blanket.

Puberty is such a chaotic time, I understand that; mine wasn’t that long ago, either. I wish there was a way to help him, but even knowing what he’s going through, my hands are tied. No matter how much I wish otherwise, I can’t live it in his stead. He’ll have to go through all these changes himself. All I can do is be there for him and hope for the best.

Oblivious to my musings, Naruto appears from the bathroom all freshened up and ready for the day. Thanks to my timely intervention at waking him up we even have time to enjoy a quick breakfast before he heads out, but after he does and I clean up, there isn’t much left for me to do.

Well.. not quite. I still have to prepare the studio. My first client, Kakashi, is supposed to arrive at noon, so I’ll need to perform some rudimentary changes before he gets there. The place is supposed to have been cleaned already, but I’ll need to double check just in case, as well as move around the sparse furniture it comes with and set up the mirrors. Oh, and let’s not forget the music. I can’t teach dancing without music.

A small part of me is nervous, I won’t lie. Nervous about whether I’ll be a good enough instructor, or if my premium customer will be satisfied enough with my work, or if I’ll even be able to go through the entire evening without collapsing in pain. Worry gnaws at my insides, tying my stomach in knots.

The doorbell rings.

“Hey, buddy!”

“We’re here to help!”

I know those voices. Izumo and Kotetsu. When I open the door, I’m wearing a genuine smile on my face. Something rare for me in the last few months, unless my small circle of precious people is involved.

“Good morning, esteemed neighbours,” I salute them, and they salute me back with matching grins.

“Right. Where are the things we’ll be moving? We thought we’d help you set up now, before our grocery run, then return at noon for the fireworks,” Izumo says.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what the studio needs, apart from the mirrors. I was about to go check, but it already comes with some basic furniture so we may need an additional couple of chairs at most. And something to play music, of course.”

Kotetsu chuckles. “‘Something to play music’, he says.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “Bestie, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

Izumo gives him a loud kiss. “Absolutely. My husband isn’t a famous DJ for nothing. He’ll deck you out with such fancy equipment, you’ll be turning your studio to a nightclub before you know it.”

I raise my hands in mock surrender. “There’s no need for anything so extravagant, really, all I need is to have some audible rhythm so I can direct people on the dance floor..”

“It will be audible, all right,” Kotetsu says. “I’ll lend you one of my old consoles and a set of cheap speakers, that should be enough to get you on your feet.”

Izumo mouths ‘not that cheap’ with exaggerated movements, obviously teasing his husband.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Kotetsu says fondly. “They are, for my profession. And old. And I haven’t used them in almost a decade, since I first started out. They’ve been doing nothing but gathering dust on the shelf all these years. But for Iruka, they’ll be perfect. A premium production, the least he deserves. After all, we can’t be having his customers claim that he’s cheap, even if his speakers are. Not that they’ll know it, trust me.” Turning to me, he adds, “Because you aren’t. Cheap, that is. You’re worth every ryo, and then some.”

“We’re here for you, buddy,” Izumo says. “And don’t worry, we’ll give this Kakashi dude the most thorough vibe check you’ve ever seen. Both of us. Mine has never failed me, has it honey?” he asks his husband.

“Well, there was that one t–”

“Robots don’t count,” Izumo blurts out and I raise my eyebrows.

“Robots?”

“It was a killer robot,” Kotetsu says ominously. My eyebrows go even higher.

“Shush, it was only malfunctioning because Hana spilled water on its circuits by accident and fried its electronic brain. Remember how she was so happy because someone had adopted their eighth dog from her shelter? Eight rescue dogs, can you believe it? That person must have been a saint, no matter how you look at it.” Izumo realises he’s babbling and ruffles his hair. “Anyway, not the point. The point is if anything about this dude seems even the tiniest bit off, anything at all, we’re never leaving the two of you alone. For the entire month.”

“That’s too much,” I start, shaking my head, but both of them wave me off.

“Nonsense. That’s what friends are for. That being said, since you’re not sure what could be missing let’s all go together. I need to scope out the space for the best corner to set up my sound equipment anyway,” Kotetsu says.

Izumo, always practical, eyes my clothes. “Do you also need a minute to get ready, buddy?”

It only dawns on me now that I’m still wearing my pyjamas. “Oops.” I flush a little.

A true sign of how comfortable I feel around them. Oh, well. They’ve seen me in worse. Much worse. We burned those clothes together in a symbolic cleansing ritual the day I was discharged from the hospital. For new beginnings.

“Be right back,” I say, motioning them inside. “Come in, have a tea while I change.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” Kotetsu says, leading Izumo to the kitchen. Raising his voice because by now I’ve reached my bedroom, he asks, “Do you want one too?”

“Yes, please!”

I had a cup earlier while I was preparing breakfast, but it’s better to rehydrate myself before embarking on physical activity. My scar has only been bothering me to a limited extent so far today, but that could change at any minute.

Izumo presents me with a fresh mug of hojicha the moment I reemerge in the kitchen, and we all spend a few moments enjoying its comforting nutty taste. Ah, so good.

“Thank you,” I say when I’m done.

Kotetsu snorts. “Shouldn’t we be the ones thanking you instead? We came in your home, consumed your tea, created more dirty dishes for you to wash..”

“Sure, and you’re also about to help me move things to my studio because of my injury. Not to mention lending me all that expensive DJ equipment, don’t make that face Kotetsu, I know it’s not as cheap as you claim it is. A cup of tea isn’t going to cut it; I’ll have to make it up to you with dinner. What would you guys like me to cook? We’ll have you come over, only bear in mind that my son pretends to be allergic to vegetables.”

“Honestly, I’m fine with some syrup,” Kotetsu says, and we all chuckle, the inside joke being that Kotetsu in all honesty likes eating pure syrup. Izumo teases him all the time about secretly being a bee.

“Anyway, I’m ready when you are.” I set down my now empty mug. “Let’s make this happen.”

“Lead the way, esteemed neighbour,” Izumo says with a mock salute, and we’re out.

When I say the studio is next door, I mean it. It’s on the building adjacent to ours. We’re there in the blink of an eye, my new keys jiggling as I try to wriggle them in the lock.

“I don’t remember which one’s which,” I mutter, because there are two identical-looking keys in the keychain that the landlord gave me.

One is for the building entrance and the other for the studio. As soon as I figure out which one’s which, I’m adding some kind of distinguishing mark in one of them, otherwise I’ll be fiddling with them every day.

I try the other key. This time there’s a click, accompanied by the entrance giving way. “Ah, so you’re the one,” I say, satisfied, and we enter the building. “First floor, same as our apartments,” I inform Izumo and Kotetsu who are following me.

It doesn’t take us long to spot the studio door, and with me still dividing the two keys between my fingers, we enter with a flick of my wrist.

“This is it.” I spread my arms as we take a few steps inside, encompassing the space around us.

It doesn’t look like much yet, but I’m hoping it will by the time we’re done with it. The landlord has left the shutters open, as I requested him to, so there’s plenty of natural light entering from the windows, casting the place in the warm glow of the sun. Sunlight is the best kind of light to inspect for dirt and imperfections, which is what I’m going to do as soon as we finish setting up.

“Where do we start?” Izumo asks, looking around to take in everything.

“I’m thinking of placing my console in that corner over there,” Kotetsu says, pointing. “It’s out of the way, but accessible with ease. Will you be using this area for your dance floor?”

We start making plans, our discussion turning animated as my friends get swept in my future vision for this place. It may not seem anything special or fancy now, but if my experiment turns out a success and I can sustain myself financially like this, I’m hoping to make dancing classes my new main source of income.

When we get to work, it’s with a spring in our step. Well, most of us. My scar pulls at me a little when I try to carry one of the full-length mirrors, so I have to take a small break to massage my surrounding muscles and warm them up more, at which point Izumo takes over the carrying and I hobble next to him like an old man although I’m still only in my mid-twenties until I can sit down again.

“There. I think it’s good enough for now,” I say, finally satisfied.

“Bestie, you’re crazy, you know that? And I mean that in the best possible way,” Kotetsu says.

“Iruka, this looks so good that if I wasn’t here for it I wouldn’t believe it was cobbled together in only a handful of hours,” Izumo adds. “We even had time to squeeze in our grocery run while you finished cleaning, I’m still not sure how that happened.”

The place still looks like a small studio, because at the end of the day that’s what it is, but at least now it comes off as a professional small studio.

Not a speck of dust to be seen, not even tiny motes dancing in the sun rays; floor polished to the point where I can see my own reflection; sparse furniture, plain but comfortable; big mirrors covering the entirety of one of the walls; the best kind of sunlight with the curtains open, and Kotetsu’s high tech DJ gear. Not to mention that we’ve added my new dance school name plates on the outer side of the studio door, as well as downstairs next to the corresponding buzzer.

“We are ready.to.open,” I say, clapping my hands between the words for emphasis. “What time is it?”

Izumo checks his watch. “Quarter to twelve.” His eyes rest on me. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ve got you.”

I nod, a flutter in my stomach. My anxiety faded in the background while we were busy working, but now that we’re idling it returns full force.

“Hey, you’re the best dancer I’ve seen,” says Kotetsu, “And coming from a DJ, that means something. If you don’t trust your previous self-made fame, trust us. There’s nothing for you to worry about. You’ve got this. And we’ve got you.”

Moisture wells up in my eyes, unbelieving of what I’ve done to deserve such kind friends. “Thank you so, so much,” I say, voice trembling, and Izumo rushes in for a hug.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. It’s all right, buddy. That’s what friends are for, right? It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. We’re all fine.” He angles his face towards his husband. “Right, honey?”

“Absolutely,” Kotetsu adds, joining in and turning the hug to a group one. “Now go in there and triumph.”

The effect of his mini speech is squandered by the fact that my studio is still empty, but I take his words to heart. Pulling myself together, I wipe the corners of my eyes and thank them again with a watery smile.

“Right. I’ll go wash my face, and then we can wait for this Kakashi together.”

“Do your thing. We’re not going anywhere,” Izumo confirms.

Chapter Text

The exact second the hands on the wall clock meet, there’s a ring from the intercom. Wow. There’s punctual and there’s this. I must admit, I’m impressed.

“Hello?” I ask, to be sure.

“This is Kakashi,” a smooth voice says. “Iruka sensei?”

“That’s me. Please come in. First floor, second door to the left,” I say to save him the time of reading the door sign and buzz him in.

There’s no point in waiting for him to ring this bell too, now that I think about it. I open the door the moment he’s about to knock. His raised hand hovers in front of my face for a second, but I greet him with a cordial smile and a small bow.

“Kakashi-san,” I say, retreating enough to motion him inside.

“Iruka sensei,” he returns with a small bow of his own. “Just Kakashi is fine.” He takes a cautious step forward, examining his surroundings. “This is nice,” he adds. “I haven’t been in a dancing studio before.” Turning to Izumo and Kotetsu, he bows again. “I’m guessing you’re Iruka sensei’s friends? Thank you for joining us today,” he says, as if he’s the one who asked them to chaperone us. To be fair though, he was the one who suggested it, for which I’m grateful.

“Our pleasure,” Kotetsu counters, not missing a beat. “I’m Kotetsu and this is my husband, Izumo. As you said, we’re Iruka’s friends. Thank you for being willing to put up with our presence. Pretend we’re not here.”

While Kakashi’s focus isn’t on me, I take the opportunity to study him. His hair looks as gravity-defying as in his photos, but I don’t discern any remnants of styling which means it must be natural. He’s still wearing a mask, either because of illness or by choice, so I can’t see much of his face, but whichever is the case I’m not going to pry. What he does with his body is his own business and I’ll respect that. Overall, the impression I get from him and his body language is sincere. Humble, maybe?

“I wanted Iruka sensei to feel safe and comfortable,” Kakashi says, turning to me. “I hope you won’t find this intrusive, but I read through your last updates about your injury. I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you. Such people are truly the scum of the earth.” His expression darkens for a moment, but clears with a small shake of his head. “Of course I understand if after what happened you’re hesitant to be alone with someone else, especially a stranger like me, so whatever helps put you at ease, please let me know. I mean it.”

I.. I may have to upgrade my opinion of him from knight to angel. Nothing of what he says sounds false. These aren’t empty words of goodwill for the sake of social pleasantries, either; they’re too genuine for that.

He’s honestly one of the most understanding persons I’ve come across in my life. Without me even asking him to, he’s offering to accommodate me on my level while requesting from me to establish boundaries that I’m comfortable with. And let’s also not forget that he decided to come to my controlled space because of my injury or how he tried to ensure my ease by requesting my friends’ presence.

In our earlier communications, he specifically mentioned that he wanted me to feel as safe as possible. Hell, he was the one who asked me to forward his contact details to Izumo and Kotetsu, just in case. Either he’s a big empath, or..

Or he has also gone through some shitty trauma of his own that left him with scars. Maybe not only visible ones, like the one down his eye, but also others, that cannot be seen. Those are the worst. I know, because I also have some. My back may be almost healed, but my soul still feels like it’s bleeding sometimes.

It would explain why he’s gone silver at such a young age, for a start. It would also help explain his preternatural levels of understanding. He understands, because he knows how it feels. The thought of him having been through something similar to me fills me with compassion, compassion and anguish. My heart goes out to him, because nobody deserves such terror.

“Thank you. I.. appreciate it. Truly. First, please make yourself comfortable,” I say instead, directing him to one of the few chairs at the side. “Would you like some tea while we discuss your options?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” he demurs, taking a seat.

There’s something dignified about the way he moves, a quiet confidence that in all honesty makes him mesmerising to watch. Unprompted, my mind paints the mental image of him joining me for a cup of tea with those same movements, a glimpse of his inner wrist as he pours..

“You’re not imposing,” I say, shaking myself on the inside. I’ve barely talked to the man, why am I already starting to envision our future together? “I was about to make a cup for myself anyway.”

I lick my lips, trying to decide how much to divulge, but he has already admitted to reading my updates so he must know the general gist of it. Even if he did somehow manage to miss the entire affair when it made national headlines.

Eh, fuck it. We’ll be seeing each other every day for the next month. He deserves to know as much.

“My injury, you see,” I explain. “It helps if I keep my body hydrated, so I’ve taken to drinking more tea. Now here’s what I have, but if you prefer something else then one of us can pop to the mini market around the corner and grab a box: matcha, genmaicha, sencha, hojicha, kukicha–”

“Does it always hurt?” he interrupts me.

I pause, caught off guard. “Eh?”

“Your injury. Does it always hurt?” At my confused look, he tries to clarify. “My apologies if I have overstepped any boundaries. It’s only that I.. I have some experience with chronic injuries. I was thinking of ways to help you with the pain, if possible.”

My eyes dart to Izumo and Kotetsu. Is this guy for real? Again? He can’t possibly be this kind, can he? This must be a dream, or a hallucination, or I don’t know what; but not reality. Both my friends give me a quiet thumbs up, however. Passing vibe checks so far, which means, as crazy as it sounds, that he’s genuine.

My face flushes, a wave of shyness overwhelming me all of a sudden. I don’t like asking for help, however we will be working together daily for the near future. If he can somehow improve my range of motion, it will benefit both of us.

“It’s..,” I start, hesitant, but carry on. I’d be a fool to reject his offer to help. “No, you’re not overstepping. It hurts when I strain myself, but massaging the muscles in the area to keep them limber helps. I already told you about the hydration. I’m still in the late recovery stages, not completely healed. My physiotherapy lasts until the end of the month. After that, I honestly don’t know what it will feel like.”

Kakashi nods, taking in everything. “I see. Have you heard of pressure points?”

I cock my head to the side. “Like acupuncture?”

“Something like that. If you’d be willing, I could stimulate the pressure points near your injury to increase your recovery speed.” It sounds almost too good to be true. Some of my scepticism must show on my face, because he adds, “It’s something like a cheat, I won’t lie, but it serves us well in martial arts tournaments.”

Ah. That explains it. It also explains the way he moves. He must be a trained martial artist. Again, it fits in with being a friend of fitness maniac Green Beast Gai; I can’t imagine Gai hanging out with people who have no relations to physical activity.

“Could you describe the process to me in more detail?” I ask before I commit myself to something I might regret.

“Of course.” Kakashi gives me a thumbs up. “I will be exerting gentle pressure with my thumbs on key points near the affected area. I may not be a trained medical professional, so I’ll understand if you say no, but I’ve assisted plenty of other martial artists like this, as well as my students. If at any point it hurts, or feels uncomfortable, you’ll be welcome to stop me. Any of you.”

So, a martial artist and a sensei himself. This man gets better and better in my eyes with each passing second.

“Why do I feel like I should be the one paying you now?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

He’s the one who must have emptied his wallet to book this private dancing package with me, yet what he’s summarising sounds like a full on therapy session. Under normal circumstances, something fancy like that would be outside my price range, trained medical professional or not, yet he’s offering it to me for free. A faint sensation of heat rises to my cheeks again, while my fingers scratch the scar on my nose by reflex.

Kakashi chuckles. A rich, throaty chuckle that for some reason sounds precious to my ears. He doesn’t look like a man who laughs often, which is a pity. I.. I’d like to make him laugh again, if I could.

“If I ease your pain, doesn’t it benefit both of us?” He sidesteps the question while echoing my earlier thoughts, but I get the impression he feels a bit flustered.

Does he.. Does he feel uncomfortable receiving expressions of gratitude?

“Regardless, you’re the one who booked my platinum package. I should be catering to your every whim and desire, but we haven’t even discussed what kind of dance you want to learn yet. Instead, I feel like the one being catered to,” I try, testing my theory with the subtlest wording I can come up with on the spot.

Pink rises on the small part of his cheeks that is visible. “As I said..,” he mumbles. “Helping you out would benefit both of us.” His eyes dart around the room, avoiding me.

Holy fuck. Holy fuck, he’s shy!

The revelation makes me want to squeal with delight. Right now he looks so adorable I want to pinch those cheeks and reassure him that everything is going to be fine, then squeeze him in my arms and never, ever let him go. Holy fucking Kami, he’s a treasure.

Everything falls into place, like the last piece of a puzzle.

How he’s best friends with the mother Teresa of youtubers, the Green Beast of Konoha. How he, a random person, stumbled upon my post for whatever reason, and, unlike any of my previous followers who already knew who I was, didn’t hesitate to book my most expensive fucking tier to help me stand back on my feet. How he’s volunteering to try to improve my recovery, out of the goodness of his heart, because there’s no way I’m buying that shitty ‘mutual benefits’ excuse, without asking for payment. He’s asking for nothing in return. And again, how after reading my story he’s been placing my sense of comfort and safety first, every single step of the way.

This precious man needs to be protected, at all costs.

He must also recognise this himself, at least to some degree, which explains why his social media account has the internet presence of a recluse. The fewer people that try to interact with him, the better. A way to shield himself from the world.

Don’t worry, Kakashi sensei. I won’t hurt you. Neither will I let you get hurt as long as I’m here. From one bleeding heart to another, you’re safe with me.

My eyes grow warm.

“..Kakashi sensei,” I say, and his name now sounds intimate on my lips.

A small shake of his head. “Please don’t call me sensei. Here, I’m the student. Your student.”

So he is. “Kakashi, then. All right, you’ve convinced me. I’m willing to try your cheating recovery method, but I’m still having a cup of tea first. Once more, would you like to join me?”

His eyes snap back to mine, clearly surprised. “You are? Willing, that is.”

I don’t blame his reaction. If I didn’t have that epiphany right now, I’d still be hesitant. I’m not going to reveal to him that I figured out he’s a saint though. If anything, I get the impression that if I do anything of the sort he’s going to run away, never to be seen again. And the last thing I want him to do is run away.

“You said I’ll be free to stop you if it gets uncomfortable, right?” I ask with a shrug.

“You will,” he reassures me with a quick nod, leaning forward. “Any time. And again, so will your friends.” He lays his hands on his knees, but keeps them palms up to signify openness and honesty.

My earlier thought returns to me, that he’s either an empath of the highest calibre, or.. or both. Something inside me tells me it’s both. He has suffered. I don’t know exactly how, or when, I don’t know if it’s related to that scar of his at all or not, but I feel more certain of it by the second.

My heart goes out to him. Again. I may have my own shitty issues, I don’t deny it, but if there’s anything I can do to help him heal, I want to try it. Because he deserves it. Because he looks like he needs someone by his side, but he’s standing all alone.

A mental promise to myself. We can do this, Iruka. Let’s see how we can make this precious man’s days brighter.

“Then it’s settled.” A smile blooms on my face. One of my rare true smiles, the ones which emerge straight from the depths of my heart, radiating warmth. I extend my hand to him. “Let’s try it. But you still haven’t told me your preferred kind of tea.”

Kakashi’s gaze freezes on my face for a few moments, almost going unfocused, and I think I hear a small intake of breath. His hand rises to meet mine, but the motion is slow. It feels.. almost subconscious, somehow? Like he’s not in full control of himself and has resorted to running on autopilot.

“Hojicha,” he says, sounding somewhat breathless as my palm curls around his.

“Hojicha it is,” I confirm, still smiling as I help raise him to his feet. He sways a little, probably because he was seated all this time and his muscles have started falling asleep, but he remains focused on my face as if he’s hypnotised. Something about this moment feels special; intimate. I’m reluctant to let it end. “Guys?” I ask over my shoulder, my hand still holding Kakashi’s.

“We’ve got you,” I hear Izumo say.

“How do you want me?” I ask Kakashi.

A slow blink, like he’s struggling to process things. Is he dizzy? It’s not too hot in here, is it?

“Any way you want,” he says, sounding faint, but I’m not the one with the pressure point experience.

More importantly, however.. “Kakashi?” My smile drops. I lean closer, my brow furrowing with concern. One of his pupils is much wider than the other. It looks like it’s about to swallow his iris. “Are you all right?”

“Never been better,” he says, but his voice is a dazed whisper. If he is, he doesn’t look or sound like it.

Fuck. I don’t know much in terms of first aid, but I suspect a dizziness spell. Whatever it actually is though, I’m not about to let him pass out in my arms, so I sit him back down and give his hand a reassuring squeeze before letting him go.

“Wait here,” I tell him. First off, the least I can do is bring him a glass of water. We’ll take it from there. Maybe the heat got to him. Or maybe he skipped breakfast. Anyway, I’ll be damned if I just stand here and wait for him to collapse.

“What? Why? Iruka sensei?”

“I’ll get you something to drink,” I say, already halfway to the sink. At least the studio comes equipped with a kitchenette so I don’t have to go all the way to my apartment. “Since I’m here, I’ll take over the tea too,” I tell Izumo.

“What happened to him?” Izumo whispers.

“I don’t know, but he looks faint,” I whisper back.

“Want me to call an ambulance?”

A subtle shake of my head. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but if he gets worse, have your phone ready.”

I take both a glass of cool water and a steaming cup of hojicha to Kakashi, offering them one at a time. “Water first,” I say.

He looks a bit better now. For one, his eyes actually track my movements instead of fixing on my face and staying there in a daze. Thank the kami. Whatever kind of spell this was, it must have passed.

I turn my body to face the window and give him some privacy while he drinks. If the reason he covers his face is not because he has a cold, then receiving his permission before looking at him is important. I’d motion for Izumo and Kotetsu to turn around too, but they’re currently busy exploring each other’s mouths so I don’t bother.

“You’re truly spoiling me,” I hear Kakashi say. “And.. thank you, for not looking.” The gratitude in his voice vindicates my hunch. This was the right decision.

A nod, while my gaze focuses on the distant traffic across the street. “You’re welcome,” I say simply. “You don’t have to explain yourself,” I add. I’ve had my fair share of inquisitive fans and followers in the past to the point where it felt intrusive. I’m not about to cause him that kind of discomfort if I can help it.

“I..” A sigh, followed by a rustle. I think he’s threading his fingers through his hair. “You’re too understanding.”

It’s my turn to chuckle, my eyes tracking a bicycle that’s about to disappear around the corner. “Is that a bad thing?”

A deep breath. “No. No, it isn’t. Rare, but not bad. The opposite, in fact. By the way, you may look now.” Both the water and the tea are gone, the glass and the cup looking like peace offerings in his hands. “..Maybe one day,” he says when I take them.

Knowing what he means, I hum in agreement as I patter back to the kitchenette to set down the glassware. It feels like a measure of his trust. A trust I’m willing to earn, because by now I’ve decided I’m not breaking it. The fact that he’s already considering extending it to me is an honour and a blessing.

“So, about that cheating therapy of yours, what would be the best position for it?” I ask, returning to my previous spot and the topic that started all this. “Standing? Sitting? Lying down? My injury is on the middle of my spine,” I add for clarification.

Kakashi cocks his head to the side, considering. “In that case I think lying down would be best, but..” He takes in the sparse furniture around us. The few chairs aren’t that accommodating for what he has in mind, but no matter how much I’m drawn to him I hesitate to invite him to my bed only a few minutes after I’ve met him in person, even with my friends present. Not to mention how unprofessional that would be.

My eyes drop to the freshly waxed wooden boards beneath our feet. “Does the floor work?”

His eyebrows rise. “Would you be fine with that?”

“If it makes the pain go away, I’m fine with anything,” I answer truthfully. Without further ado, I get down to business with brisk movements. The floor is warm because of the sunlight, the pleasant kind of warmth that would be perfect if I wanted to nap, but I’m not here to nap. I lie on my stomach, cushioning my head with my arms, and wait. “Is this good enough?” I ask, my voice muffled.

A beat. Another. Then, as if spurred on by some invisible signal, Kakashi kneels next to me, the fabric of his trousers rustling. “Yes,” is all he says, although his voice sounds weak again.

I wonder if he’s suffering from a return of that dizziness spell from earlier and make a mental note to ask him later. If I’ll be coaching him for the next month, I’ll need to know about any potential health conditions that we may have to deal with. As well as their preventative measures, in case I need to apply them.

Chapter Text

“Are you all right? Let me know at any point if you don’t feel well or if you want to take a moment,” I tell him.

I hear him shake his head. Maybe to clear it? What follows is an amused huff. “Turning the tables on me again? Shouldn’t I be the one telling you these things while trying to reassure you? If you insist however, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.”

I shrug. “It goes both ways. Besides, the sight of the mangled tissue on my back can be gruesome.”

That’s not my only concern, but I don’t know how to tell him that I’m worried about his wellbeing without coming off as ignorant or potentially pretentious. For a start, he knows his health issues better than I do. He also looks responsible enough to try to manage them if possible. I’ll have to trust him to tell me if he has a condition or needs my help.

Circling back to safer waters, I remember to warn him regarding what he’s about to lay his eyes on. “I.. I’m sorry you’ll have to look at it. In fact, are you sure–”

“You’re too kind, Iruka sensei,” he cuts me off, but his tone is gentle. “Let me assure you that whatever your scar looks like, I’ve seen much worse. Anyway, I’m going to need to raise your top to check your injury, would that be all right?” he asks, all soft.

I wouldn’t be lying on the floor if it wasn’t, although I appreciate him wanting to confirm this with me.

“It’s all right,” I reassure him, although my mind replays his words like a tape on a reel.

‘Much worse,’ he said, and he hasn’t even looked at it yet. I wonder what horrific things he has witnessed in the past that the prospect of a blade scar on my spine doesn’t unsettle him. You poor angel, what have you been through? Once more, my heart goes out to him. That’s what, the third time today? It’s beginning to form a habit.

Kakashi’s fingertips settle at the small of my back with a gentle motion, although the sensation is dampened by the fabric of my top. He keeps the pressure light, however, so light that it feels more like the ghost of a touch than actual touch. “Is this all right?” he asks anew.

“Yes,” I confirm.

He takes hold of my hem and begins to raise it, slow but steady. “Again, let me know at any moment if you want me to stop,” he says, and if I hadn’t realised he’s a fucking saint already, I think this would be the moment.

“I will.” A deep breath. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it.

I can tell the exact moment when my injury is revealed to him, not because of the cool air against my skin but because of Kakashi’s sharp intake of breath.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and I know it’s not the prettiest thing in the world but he did volunteer.

“Again.. I’m sorry you have to see it. I did try to warn you,” I mumble against my sleeves, a strange wave of shame coursing through me. Exposing my scar like this to him.. feels intimate, somehow. Why does his reaction feel like a rejection? Foolish me was hoping–

“Sorry? You are sorry? Are you serious??” His voice rises half an octave at the last question. “No, Iruka. Whoever did this to you should be sorry. Very, very sorry.” His tone takes a dark edge, sharpening. “Please tell me that the person who did this to you has paid for it. If there’s any justice in this world, is still paying,” he says, his voice now so gruff it approaches a rumble. Suddenly he sounds dangerous, but I understand that it’s not directed at me.

The shame washes away, to be replaced by something bubbly and buoyant. For this saint of a man who expresses righteous indignation on my behalf. For this treasure of a being who didn’t recoil in disgust at the sight of my mangled body. For this angel who still wants to help.

I try to make light of the situation however, because no matter how close or drawn to him I feel, this is a way too heavy conversation to be having with him on our first meeting.

“I hope so. Last thing I heard he will be locked up behind bars for a long, long time. But if he does get out while I’m still alive, he’s not allowed to come anywhere near me. Ever. You said you read my story, right?”

“Yes. You didn’t mention that bastard’s name, although he didn’t deserve such compassion. I also skimmed through a few of the comments. Some of your followers weren’t as magnanimous as you. Under normal circumstances I don’t condone doxing, but since he did try to murder you..”

He did. So he did. Well, he went for Naruto first, but there’s no doubt in my mind I’d be second if he had succeeded. And it’s been haunting me ever since. Half a year later, I’m almost as good as new on the outside, but on the inside? Sometimes I still cry myself to sleep. In silence, because I don’t want my son to know.

I just..

A deep sigh. “I just want to forget,” I whisper, suddenly tired. Tired of feeling paranoid, and afraid. Tired of always being on my guard. Tired of the way I don’t only see the best in people anymore. Tired of everything.

Something warm descends on my skin, right where my scar is. Something warm and rough, but the motion is gentle. His palm, I realise. His callused palm is resting on my scar, fingers splayed, in a blatant effort to offer me some comfort.

“Is this all right?” Kakashi asks, his tone so heartbreakingly tender that I can only nod, because a lump is beginning to form in my throat.

“I wish I could help you,” he says, in that same tone. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, please tell me.” A soft squeeze. “I mean it.”

This isn’t a dancing lesson anymore. I’m not sure what’s happening between us, but I can almost sense invisible threads bringing us together.

“You do?” I keep my voice low because it’s close to breaking.

Something about Kakashi’s kindness, the gentle way he’s been handling me from the start, is unravelling me. Layer by layer, the metaphorical band-aids I’ve plastered on my emotional trauma in order to ignore it until it gets bored and goes away, start to peel off and come loose. Leaving me exposed. Vulnerable. Raw.

If he keeps this up, he’s going to make me shatter. He’s going to make me shatter, but if he does, he’d better stay and help me pick up all the pieces after so I can glue myself together again.

Another squeeze is my only answer, warm and reassuring. Tenderness flows, from him to me, tenderness and understanding, and something inside me finally gives. A sob lurches from the depths of me, then another, and another, and another, each more violent than the last, and before I know it I’m bawling my eyes out, right here on my polished floor.

“Shh,” Kakashi croons. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispers, taking me in his arms, while my friends also jump in.

“Bestie!”

“Hey, buddy. It’s all right. We’re all here for you, it’s all right.”

“I’m sorry– I’m so sorry,” I wail, but my sobs only become harder, my body jerking with the force of my hiccups while the lump in my throat expands so much it’s getting difficult to breathe.

“Not your fault, not your fault, never your fault,” Kakashi says, over and over again, cradling me and rocking me and rubbing my back in soothing circles like I’m a lost child in the dark while all I can do is latch onto him and weep.

“Hey bestie, we’ve got you, we’re here, we’re here for you, all right?”

“Shh, shh, you’re safe. You’re safe now. All right? You’re safe. Shh, it’s gone now. It’s all gone and you’re safe. You’re safe,” Kakashi carries on, his tone so tender it only makes me cry harder.

My fingers clutch at his back like he’s my lifeline, my anchor and sole salvation. The logical part of me is mortified at my clinginess, but at the same time I can’t let go of him right now if my life depends on it.

Angling his face towards my friends, he asks, “What soothes him, usually? Something to drink, like tea or cocoa? A soft blanket? Candles? Music?”

“Good idea,” Kotetsu says. “Do you mind Beethoven?”

Kakashi must not mind, because a few moments later the unmistakable opening notes of Moonlight Sonata’s first movement surround me like a serene sea, flooding from the speakers around us.

Kakashi keeps rocking me with gentle motions while I try to hold back my wrenching sobs, but despite my best efforts I’m physically unable to. My mouth is an open well of despair, so I try to at least muffle the damn thing by burying it in Kakashi’s top, not caring that I’m ruining his clothes with my snot and tears.

“That’s it, let go. Let go, Iruka. You can let go. You’re safe now, you’re safe,” Kakashi repeats, and every time he tells me I’m safe something inside me believes him, little by little, tentatively putting back together something broken and fragmented, one sliver at a time.

The music helps. My favourite sonata acts like a soothing lullaby and after the first few minutes I find myself calming down, note by note, to the rhythm of Kakashi’s rocking and rubbing motions.

“That’s it, I’ve got you, you’re safe,” he keeps whispering in my hair, not letting me go for a single moment.

“I– I’m so sorry,” I choke out, voice still broken, but this time it’s for a different reason. This time I’m not apologising because of what happened to me. This time I’m apologising for losing it in front of everyone.

Kakashi seems to understand. “Shh. It’s all right. It’s all right,” he coos. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you. All of us, your friends included. Right, guys?”

“You know it,” Izumo says.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Kotetsu agrees.

I nod, my face still buried somewhere in Kakashi’s chest, or shoulder. It’s hard to tell because we’re a mass of sprawled limbs heaped on the floor, the only steady thing being his strong arms around me. It dawns on me that I’ve ended up half-straddling his lap and I sense myself flush with so much embarrassment that my cheeks emanate tangible heat.

Good job, Iruka. First day and you’re making a mess of–

“Not your fault,” Kakashi says, adamant, as if reading my thoughts.

My fingers find the strength to loosen their hold on him, although they’re still stiff, and only now do I realise that my knuckles hurt. How hard was I clenching them all this time?

My response to Kakashi is a self-deprecating snort while I try to wipe my tears with my palms, but I realise early on that this isn’t going to cut it. I’m such a mess I’ll need to go wash myself.

“I mean it,” he says, serious. “Not your fault. Ever.” A beat. “Please,” he adds, and I don’t know why but his plea shoots straight to my soul.

“I..” I trail off, not knowing how to respond because I find myself at an honest loss for words. “Please,” I echo, my voice a hoarse whisper, but I’m not sure what I’m also pleading for.

Again, Kakashi seems to understand even when I don’t. A nod. “Only remember that you’re safe. You’re safe and we’ve got you. Are you.. Are you good to go clean up? Do you want me to take you?”

If I allow him to take me to the bathroom right now there’s a good chance I’ll drop dead from sheer mortification, so I shake my head. “I.. I’ll manage. Sorry. I’ll be fine. I..”

“Shh. It’s all right. I understand. You don’t have to say anything.”

It would be easier to hide from him if he wasn’t so perfect. He said he understands. He said he understands and I know it in my gut that he’s being literal instead of throwing empty words around to appear sympathetic.

Kami, he knows. He knows how I feel. He.. Fuck. Because he’s been through something similar. Because someone also hurt him.

My personal misery takes a backseat to the cold, coiling fury that builds up inside me for whoever caused him pain. It’s easier to let go of my wretchedness when I can direct my emotions towards outrage for his wellbeing instead. It helps me manage to snap out of this spell, newfound determination burning through me.

Pull yourself together, Iruka. We can do this.

Kakashi and I somehow manage to get me on my legs and I patter to the bathroom, sniffling while wiping my face with my hands, but it’s so wet all I do is spread my tears further.

The sight that greets me in the mirror is such a fucking mess, if I didn’t know this is me I’d be hesitant to identify me. All right, Iruka. Let’s become human again, then try to salvage the rest of this dancing lesson, hmmm?

First of all, I turn on the tap and splash a handful of cold water on my face. Then I do it again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

It helps. Water always brings me peace, so I carry on until my face is drenched and everything is clean, including my mind. I return to my senses, and after also wasting about half a toilet roll blowing my nose, I think I’m ready.

I do another check in the mirror. My eyes are still somewhat puffy and bloodshot, but they’re clearing by the second. My ponytail is skewed, so I fix it with a quick pull, while my top.. Yea, I’ll have to change. So will Kakashi, I realise. Because I bawled all over him. I’ll have to grovel and beg for his forgiveness for ruining his clothes, then wash and iron –

“Buddy? Are you all right?”

Izumo’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Coming,” I say, and give the countertop around the sink a quick wipe before leaving the bathroom. “Sorry I’m late,” I add, striding back to the main studio area as fast as I can without aggravating my scar. “Ah, I’m afraid the two of us may need to change our tops,” I tell Kakashi, checking out his size. He’s of a similar build to me, but with a broader back and better muscle definition. I know, because I felt his body when he was holding me like the world was about to end. But first things first. Apologise for wrecking his clothes. “I’m so sor–”

He stops me mid-bow with a sharp shake of his head. “Please don’t. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” he says. His gaze falls to his top. “Although I didn’t bring any extras. Is there a shop nearby where I could buy a replacement?”

“There’s no need for that,” I blurt out, waving my hands in placating motions. He’s already spending a small fortune on these lessons, there’s no way I’m making him pay more. In fact, with the way today has gone so far, I’m going to give him an extra day at the end of the month to make up for it. “I’ll put this in the washing machine and lend you one of mine if that’s all right?”

Kakashi blinks. “There’s no washing machine,” he says, stating the obvious.

Except, well.. “My apartment is nearby,” I explain. “I’ll be back in five minutes with a spare. Any preferences for the colour?”

“Dark, if possible. And thank you in advance for the loan.”

I nod. “Dark it is. And, uh, don’t worry about today. We’ll do an extra lesson at the end of the month, for free.”

“We don’t have to.” At my look of disbelief, he adds, “It’s fine, honestly. In fact, I insist. Please. But I still haven’t tried my pressure technique on you. For the pain.”

..Right. I hope my friends approve, because I’m marrying this man.

“You will in five minutes!”

For the first time since the attack, my feet feel like they have wings. I fly to my apartment and back to the studio in record time, fresh in a new clean top while holding out another for Kakashi.

“I picked a dark blue one, similar to what you were already wearing,” I say, offering it to him. “Feel free to change in the bathroom. I’ll put on a new washing cycle as soon as you’re done.”

“Again, thank you.” There’s genuine gratitude in his tone, when I’m the reason he needs to change in the first place. Could he be any more considerate? The answer is no.

He reaches for the top, our fingertips brushing. Static electricity shocks me and my startled hand almost withdraws by reflex, but I hold it in place at the last moment.

“You’re electrifying,” I joke, because if I don’t I’m going to embarrass myself again.

The fabric of his mask shifts. I think he’s smiling.

“I’ve heard that before,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Is he.. Is he flirting with me? Before I can process what’s happening, he waves the top I gave him like a flag in silent explanation and disappears in the bathroom.

“Guys,” I hiss, lowering my voice so that Kakashi can’t hear us. My friends rush to my side. “Guys, help. Did he.. Did he flirt with me? Or did I hallucinate it? Vibe checks, can I have vibe checks? Give me all the vibe checks. I’m not going crazy, am I?”

“Buddy, marry him,” Izumo whispers.

“Yesterday,” Kotetsu agrees.

My eyebrows rise in disbelief. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Izumo shakes his head. “For something this serious, never.”

“I can pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you,” Kotetsu says, pointing at me.

“You should have seen the way he held you when you were crying,” Izumo adds, swooning a little.

“Wh– What? In love with me? Come now guys, I’m sure you’re pulling my leg.”

“I shit you not,” Kotetsu hisses. “Remember when you gave him that angelic smile of yours and he almost fainted? It was right then that his heart started beating for you,” he says, emphasizing his words by poking at my chest.

“What? That was a dizziness spell,” I try to disagree, but I’m not so sure anymore.

“Dizziness my butt,” Kotetsu insists. “I tell you he was lovestruck and my instincts are never wrong. Not to mention his vibes. He’s the real thing, bestie. Trust me on this. I have no idea how the fuck he’s not married yet, he must have been hiding in a cave or under a bunch of rocks or something, but you need to snatch him. Now.”

“Apparently, kami still walk the earth,” Izumo adds. “My husband being another, of course. Right, honey?”

“Damn right. Anything for you, my sweet bee.”

I let my friends kiss, because Kakashi emerges from the bathroom. My pupils widen, trying to absorb every detail of the vision in front of them. I must admit, he looks good in my clothes. My top is tight on him, not so much that he can’t move, but enough to accentuate some of those muscles I know are concealed under the fabric.

His eyes meet mine and I hasten to give myself a mental shake. Focus, Iruka – before he notices the dreamy look I’m sure I’m sporting right now. We’re supposed to be professional here. Less drooling, more working. We can do this.

“Is the top comfortable enough? It looks a bit tight,” I say.

Kakashi stretches his arms, one after the other, then his torso with careful motions. He looks every part the martial artist warming up before a match. Unused to this amount of muscle definition, the fabric strains at the seams, but thank goodness it holds. Kakashi hands me his ruined top next, in a gesture that has no business feeling as intimate as it does.

“My range of movement is unhindered, which is good. This may sound strange, but.. what do you use to wash your clothes?”

“Eh?” To say I’m caught off guard is an understatement.

His eyes dart to the side. I think he’s being shy again. “It’s only that.. I have a strong sense of smell and most softeners and detergents are aggravating to my sinuses, but yours.. Yours simply smell nice,” he finishes in a small voice.

“Oh.” It’s my turn to fluster, because.. “I make my own.”

His gaze snaps back to me, eyes wide. “You do?” he asks, surprised, as if it never occurred to him that he could do such a thing.

I shrug. “It’s not difficult. The smell may not be aggravating to you because I only use natural ingredients. None of those synthetic fragrances or harsh chemicals that industrial products have. I make my detergent from Castile soap because my son has a sensitive skin, although I alternate between one or two other homemade softeners.” Inspiration strikes me. At the thought of being of some help to him, even if it’s only for washing his clothes, I get excited. “I can.. give you the recipes, if you like?” I offer. “Is it even called a recipe, if it’s for a fabric softener and detergent? Anyway, I can tell you how to make them.”

“Yes, please.” His reply is instant, no hesitation whatsoever. “All of them.”

At this I can’t help but smile. “Remind me to write them down for you at the end of our lesson. Speaking of lesson.. We never got around to that pressure therapy of yours. But first, let me put your top in the washing machine, give me another few minutes.”

“No need buddy, I can do it for you. Fast cycle, spin and dry?” Izumo asks.

I hand Kakashi’s top to him along with my apartment keys. “Thank you so much,” I gush, because I hate having to leave the studio and delay our lesson again.

“That’s what friends are for. Will be back before you know it,” Izumo says and disappears.

My focus returns to Kakashi. “Now, where were we.. Ah, pressure points. Give me a moment to lie down again,” I say, doing just that. “Hopefully this time our attempt won’t end in tears.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, even if it does,” he says. “And again, feel free to stop me at any moment.”

I hum in agreement, using my arms as a makeshift pillow. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Chapter Text

Kakashi lifts my hem again, but this time his motions feel more confident. Likewise, there’s no gasp or intake of breath when my scar is revealed to him, although he does make a noise that sounds suspiciously like a low growl.

My blood thrums for no apparent reason. Something bubbly forms inside me again, at the thought of him being my champion. No, wait. Champion doesn’t cut it. Guardian angel, more like.

A deep breath, in and out. “I’m going to apply pressure at the top first, then work my way down while going around the area, all right?” he asks.

“Yes,” I encourage him.

I sense his thumb settle on my skin, near the upper edge of my scar, warm and comforting, but he keeps it motionless. “Is this all right?”

“I think we’ve established by now that I’ll tell you if it isn’t. Please go on.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I confirm, the bubbliness inside me expanding at his note of concern. After my experience with him today and what my friends told me, I trust him. Besides, if his treatment causes me pain or makes me uncomfortable somehow, I can always tell him. We’ve established this.

“Thank you.” At first I think I hallucinate it, because his volume is so low the sound comes out as the rustling of a breeze, but.. it’s not a breeze. It’s him. I’m not sure he even meant to say this out loud, but.. why is he the one thanking me when I’m the one– “For trusting me enough for this.”

Is he for real? Again?

“Get out of my head,” I joke, keeping my tone light because he may have fallen in love with me almost at first sight according to Kotetsu, but as crazy as it sounds.. I’m not that far behind. I’m not that far behind at all. My heart does a strange thud in my chest, pulsing, which would make me lurch forward if I wasn’t lying on my stomach.

“Oh, was it yours? I hadn’t noticed,” Kakashi jokes back, that subtle, underrated humour of his I caught a glimpse of during our direct messaging. It sounds more charming in reality, because now I can also hear the tone of his delivery. His thumb presses a few tight circles on my skin, as if trying to find a specific spot, and–

“Ah!” I gasp, my back arching of its own volition.

“Shit, did that hurt you?” His thumb is replaced by his palm in an instant, fingers splayed against my skin in what feels like a protective gesture.

I rush to shake my head, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “No! No. It was.. unexpected, only. In fact, that area feels better already. Please carry on.”

“Only if you’re sure,” he says softly.

“I’m sure.” In fact, I’m so sure that I can hear wedding bells in the distance, getting closer.

Another deep breath. His palm retreats and my skin instantly misses its added warmth, but his thumb returns, continuing to circle me for what I assume are these elusive pressure points. I wasn’t lying when I said it feels better already. A small wave of warmth expanded from whatever kind of knot or pressure point he unwound, making that small area feel more relaxed and supple.

He carries on to the next one. This time I’m more prepared for the sensation of release, although my back arches again. It’s like an automatic reflex; I have zero control over it.

Kakashi’s palm steadies me again, a soft rub of his fingertips soothing me. I don’t know if this is part of the usual procedure, although I’m not complaining. For all I know, he may not even be aware he's doing it.

“Shh, it’s fine. You’re doing fine. You’re doing so well, are you all right to continue?” Kakashi encourages me, but this kind of praising talk makes me think of other situations. Less professional ones. My cheeks grow warm due to increased blood flow, and I bury my face deeper in my arms where no one can see it until I can get hold of myself again.

I’m so fucking thankful that I’m not facing him right now. “Yes. Please continue,” I say, proud of myself for keeping my voice steady.

He does, his thumb moving on. “So, your son has a sensitive skin?”

I recognise this for what it is. Talk to fill the silence. Not small talk, though. Kakashi is a man who chooses his words with care. If he didn’t give a shit, he wouldn’t ask.

I nod, then remember that he can’t see it. “Yes. Naruto. I suspect he was already prone to skin problems, but all those years in that shitty orphanage couldn’t have helped.”

“How long has he been with you, if you don’t mind?”

A casual shrug. “Why would I? About.. six– No. Seven. Seven years. He was a child when I got him. So was I, in a way. The day I turned eighteen years old I legally adopted him and took him as far away from that hellhole as possible.”

“You were an orphan, too.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes.” It’s nothing to be ashamed of. “My parents died in the Kyuubi terrorist attack. So did Naruto’s, but he was still a baby back then.” I don’t need to say more. Everyone remembers that day. So many people dead, entire neighbourhoods razed to the ground. The horror can’t be understated.

“Fuck.” A deep exhale, followed by another. And another. “Fuck,” Kakashi repeats, but this time there’s no force behind it. “I.. I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding so sombre and genuine it makes my heart turn over. He means it. Holy Kami he truly means it.

“It wasn’t easy, I’m not going to lie,” I say with all the detachment I can muster. Those years are long behind us, although their shadow will never fade away entirely. “But we made do. We always have. Naruto has been my family since the day he said my name. It was the first word he said, actually, although it sounded more like gurgling than anything. Only I could make out the ‘Ruru’ that my baby was trying to tell me.” The corners of my mouth curl at the precious memory, my heart filling with warmth. “We’re more like brothers than parent and child, if it makes sense. Because of the small age difference. But whatever we are, he has my heart’s blood. I’d give my life for him in a heartbeat.” In fact, I almost did.

Another pressure point is released and I let my breath leave me in a rush as my back arches again.

“I had no idea,” Kakashi says, voice thick. “You.. You’re truly admirable, Iruka sensei.” There’s something in his tone I can’t decipher, but whatever it is it’s not bad, I can tell that much.

I scoff. There’s nothing admirable about me. “I just happen to be quick on my feet and flexible with my body, that’s all. My natural sense of rhythm helped me pursue my dancing career which is the reason I managed to get my son out so early and still have enough to feed both of us, but you already know what happened to that career. You’re looking at its end.”

“I’m so sorry you can’t continue pursuing your dream. Maybe I can help? If my pressure treatm–”

“No,” I interrupt him, firm but tranquil. There’s no need for him to beat himself up about it. It wasn’t his fault to begin with. He’s already doing so much for me out of the goodness of his heart. “You’re too kind, but please don’t worry about it. That ship has sailed.”

His thumb lingers on my skin, hesitant. Something tells me he won’t drop this unless I explain, so I do.

“Dancing wasn’t really my life’s dream from the start, only something I was good at that made me money. Enough money to put food in our mouths. I don’t mind resorting to teaching now, as soon as I make a full recovery. At the end of the day, all I want is to keep my family safe and fed, with a roof over our heads and clean clothes on our backs.” My lungs expand, filling with oxygen to the point of saturation, then collapse again as I try to get rid of that invisible weight on my shoulders. It doesn’t work, but it helps a little. “Is that.. Do you think that’s too much to ask?” I ask, tentative.

“No. No, I don’t think that’s much at all,” Kakashi says softly, and something in the way he says it is my undoing.

If I hadn’t cried once in his arms today already, I’d be doing it again right now. As it is, I only sniffle a little. “What about you family?” I ask, wiping the corners of my eyes on my sleeves in a blatant attempt to divert the conversation away from me.

“They’re dead,” Kakashi says, and I immediately want to kick myself for being so insensitive.

“Oh. Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

Gentle pressure on my back, his fingertips acting as grounding points. “It’s all right. You didn’t know either. But it was a long time ago and for the most part the wounds have.. dulled.”

I know exactly what he means; I still have faint memories of my parents myself. “They dull, but they never go away,” I find myself whispering, not expecting a response.

“Yes.” Simple as that. Something resonates between us, a solidarity that is born of facing similar adversity. We’ve both been forged in fire, it seems. “You’re truly a kindred spirit, aren’t you, Iruka sensei?” Kakashi asks as if reading my mind, although his tone is light.

He’s trying to raise the mood, not that I blame him. Today has been free therapy. For me, anyway. Maybe for both of us? I’d like to think that I’ll also help him in return, at least a little. As soon as I start teaching him those dance moves and make him forget himself in the moment. Dancing has always been an escape for me. If I can transfer even a tiny bit of that thrilling sensation of freedom to him, it will be worth it.

My mind races to find a suitable response, something funny and maybe kind of sassy, but struggles with the task. I’m saved having to answer by another pressure point, although this one not only makes me gasp but also bow so far backwards I almost reach a forty-five degree angle.

“Ah! ”

“Fuck, sorry, I’m so sorry, that was a deep one, are you all right?” His palm is on me again, fingers splayed in that steady and supportive hold I’m already becoming so familiar with.

I suck in some air to catch my breath, finding my heart racing. “I..”

“You’re safe, you’re safe, this was the last one, your pulse will settle soon, here, let me–” He rolls me around and before I know it he’s holding me in his arms again, the heel of his palm rubbing small circles above my heart. “Shh, shh, you’re safe, this should help,” he murmurs, although it doesn’t. Help, that is. If anything, it makes my heart beat faster.

I should probably extricate myself before he catches on. My hand curls around his wrist, steady but gentle, and I bring him to a gradual stop.

“It’s all right. It did,” I say, but I find myself getting lost in his eyes, those dark eyes that are focused on me. Only on me, like I’m the centre of his world.

The distance between us seems to shrink. We’re close. We’re so close, I could reach out and kiss him. So simple. And for some reason, the thought feels so, so right.

Somewhere on the street under us, a dog barks, bringing me back to my senses. I give myself a mental shake. Pull yourself the fuck together, Iruka.

I clear my throat. “Ah.. Thank you so much.. Kakashi.” His name sounds so soft on my lips, I could savour it for ages. “Kakashi,” I repeat, equally soft, unable to control myself.

“Yes?” His eyes are hooded. Dark. Unfathomable.

“We, uh..” My mind. Has anyone seen it. “We should.. discuss.”

“Anything you want.” He sounds breathy.

Izumo or Kotetsu coughs in the background. Whoever it is, I think he’s also suppressing a snicker but my full attention is on Kakashi. He’s here for dancing, remember, a small part of my brain volunteers, and that gives me the jolt that I need.

“Your dancing options,” I clarify, and somehow find the willpower to rise from his arms. Kakashi follows me, his motions graceful, although to me he gives the impression of tugging along like a lost puppy, I can’t explain why.

“What about them?”

I can’t help it, I chuckle. “Here, come sit.”

The difference his treatment has made on my back becomes apparent with the very first step I take. The lingering pain is almost gone, the dull throbbing so far below my usual threshold it barely registers.

“Oh. Oh wow. You weren’t joking when you said this was cheating,” I say, full of awe, reaching behind me to where my scar is. My eyes widen with wonder. “Kakashi.. this is incredible!”

“I’m glad it helped,” he says simply, as if he hasn’t doubled the speed of my recovery rate. At least, that’s how it feels to me.

“At this rate I should only need physio for a couple more weeks–”

“No.” A motion of his hand. “Do the full month. I told you it’s cheating, but you need to recover the rest of the way properly.”

I cock my head to the side, uncertain. “Are you sure? Because in all honesty I feel amazing right now.”

“I’m sure. Think of it as..” He takes a moment to ponder. “Hmm.. Protein versus carbs. I gave you a protein boost right now, but you need long-lasting carbs to carry on in a satisfactory manner.”

Weird analogy, but I get it. “All right, then. I hear you. I’ll do that. But please, do know that I’m feeling amazing right now.”

Another shift of his mask. I think he’s smiling again. “So you said.”

“Oh. I’m repeating myself, aren’t I?” I give him an awkward smile, scratching the scar on my nose as is my habit when I get flustered.

Kakashi rewards me with a crinkle of his eyes which has no right feeling as wholesome as it does, but I manage to control myself and guide us back to his initial chair. I take a seat next to him, all the while struggling with an impulsive urge to take his hands in mine. In the end I find the resolve to resist, although my fingers twitch at the ends. If he notices, thank the kami there’s no way he can tell what I’m thinking.

“Anyway,” I start, trying to get us back on track. “Time for the main course. Dance. What would you like to learn?”

“I.. I don’t know.” He sounds so forlorn when he says this that my fingertips jerk again, the desire to hold him increasing.

The logical part of my brain takes over instead, trying to talk this through. “You booked an entire month of personal coaching with me and you don’t know? Not even a vague idea?”

Kakashi shrugs, getting flustered. “I only wanted to help,” he mumbles, voice so quiet I struggle to catch it.

But I do. Kami help me, I do.

My heart grows two sizes. There’s no way I’m not marrying this man, come hell or high water.

“No worries, we’ll figure things out together. Allow me to guide you,” I tell him, the warmth in my heart overflowing outside me again. It spills to my smile, that genuine smile which has come forth only for my precious people since the attack, but for Kakashi it’s the second time in half an hour. And this time, I’m sure I hear his breath hitch.

“Since you’re unfamiliar with everything, let me give you a quick overview first,” I start. “My bread and butter is ballroom dancing, so if you were hoping for cartwheels or something similar I’m afraid you’re in for a disappointment.” I start with a light joke, because if he’s as clueless as I think he is, I’m about to info-dump him.

“Anything you want, I don’t care,” he says, somewhat breathless, leaning closer to me as if pulled by gravity.

“Hmmm.” I find myself leaning a bit closer too, my ability to think diminishing, but thank fuck I can give him a quick dancing style summary with minimum input from my brain. “All right, baby steps. Would you prefer standard ballroom styles or Latin? The Latin ones are usually more energetic and vibrant. Some examples would be rumba, samba, or the mambo. Standard styles on the other hand include the foxtrot, the waltz, and the tango.”

“That one,” Kakashi says.

“The tango?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Yes. That’s the.. I mean.. I.. I’d like to dance that.. with you.” A visible bob of his Adam’s apple, followed by a faint pink hue on his upper cheeks, peeking from the edge of his mask. “Do you think.. that would be doable?” he asks, hopeful.

Oh, you sweet angel.

“Tango is the royalty of the ballroom dances, I’m not going to lie. It’s the most intimate dance style.” To say it’s intimate is an understatement. I’ve heard it described as the vertical expression of a horizontal intention, which isn’t far off the truth. “It requires trust, connection, and genuine emotion with your partner. If you want to learn the tango, it will be easier to start teaching you something simpler first since you’re a complete beginner. Would that be all right with you?”

“As long as we can do the tango in the end, yes.” There’s determination in his eyes now. Determination and a lurking fire.

“All right.” I nod. “Let’s do it. Teaching a complete beginner how to tango in a month is going to be a challenge, but something tells me you’ll be a quick learner.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kakashi says, all solemn like he’s taking a vow.

I bite my lip, thinking of how to best tackle this. Maybe start him with the waltz? It’s easier and it will help me get a feel of his body’s motion range to begin with. When I look at him again, Kakashi darts his eyes away as if he’s been caught doing something forbidden. There’s nothing forbidden here unl–

Oh. Oh fuck. We’re fucked. We’re both so utterly, majestically, royally fucked.

Shit. Focus, Iruka! Teach him how to dance first, maybe seduce him later. Outside working hours.

My teeth let go of my lip, but I don’t dare soothe it with my tongue. “Kotetsu, a waltz please?” I ask my friend with my remaining self-control.

“You’ve got it, bestie.”

Good thing they’re here, otherwise who knows how this lesson would derail. I’m not one for losing my cool, but something about Kakashi pulls me in like a moth to the flame. Like a meteor snatched from its orbit by gravity. Like a magnet, rushing towards its polar opposite; not that we’re opposites, far from it. We’re so similar, I feel like I’ve found something I was missing this whole time. Except it’s not something, but someone.

It’s him.

Whatever is happening between us, it’s electrifying.

“We’re going to start with the waltz first, all right? Simple steps, and I’ll also get a feel for the way you move. How does that sound?” I ask, trying my best to remain professional. Until this hour finishes, anyway. I think I’m asking him out after we’re done. Oh, who am I fooling. There’s no way I’m not asking him out.

“I leave myself in your capable hands,” Kakashi says, the corners of his eyes crinkling again.

Angel, keep it up like this and we’ll be dancing that tango at our wedding.

“But, uh..,” he adds, giving me pause. “Before we begin, I should probably warn you that my depth perception isn’t very good.” He taps the skin under his left eye. “This one’s a prosthetic, you see.”

Fuuuuck. I guess whoever left him with that scar took out his eye, too. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Who did this to you?” someone snarls.

Who dared lay their hands on this precious angel? A red haze clouds my mind. I’m going to find them and make them pay. I’m going to show them pain. I’m going to–

“He’s dead, Iruka,” Kakashi says softly. I don’t realise my hands have balled to fists until Kakashi takes them in his and coaxes them open, his motions gentle. “It’s all right. I’m safe now. And it was a long time ago. Didn’t I tell you I understand?”

Why is he the one looking at me all tender when he was the one that was hurt? Why is he–

Protect him.

Wherever that came from, it feels right. I want to protect him. I did think it earlier, didn’t I? I won’t allow anyone to hurt this precious man. Not while he’s with me.

“I.. I should have been there,” I find myself insisting, but I realise it’s irrational the moment it leaves my mouth. I frown. “Forgive me, I don’t know what came over me, I..” I shake my head to clear it. “I’m sorry. I..”

“It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’m safe now, see? All safe. Right here. With you. Now, please teach me how to dance?” Kakashi’s hands curl around mine, solid and welcoming. “Iruka sensei?” he asks, all gentle.

I can’t say no when he’s so kind.

“I.. Of course. Again, I’m sorry.” I have no idea what the fuck happened to me just now, but Kakashi is right. I’m supposed to teach him how to dance. “Here, follow me.” My hands still in his, I guide him to the middle of the dance floor. “I’m going to assume the following position, letting you be the lead. Place your right hand on my shoulder blade?”

Warm. So warm. And steady. Dependable. I could see myself letting go for him. Trusting him to catch me.

“Excellent. And your left hand, wrap it around mine, like this,” I demonstrate, shifting our grasp. It takes me everything I have to not shiver. He’s only holding me for a waltz, yet it feels so intimate it’s almost erotic. “Keep your elbow up at shoulder height, that’s it.”

“Is my hold good? Not too tight?”

If we weren’t pressed against each other I wouldn’t have caught it, but I do. The quickening of his pulse.

“You’re perfect,” I find myself saying, meaning it. In more ways than one.

A small embarrassed laugh. The sound is clear like bells even with his mask in the way, and I immediately want to record it in a precious part of my memory where it will remain intact forever. His laughter exorcises the remnants of that darkness that came over me when I heard about his eye, spreading rays of sunlight in its path. Or maybe that’s only the light coming in from the windows and I’ve finally lost it, who can tell.

The fire of my will surges inside me, sprouting a new flame that burns bright and clear. For him. I’ve got you, angel. You’re safe with me.

“You are,” I reiterate, willing him to believe what I said. “You may not know this, but I don’t give empty compliments. Anyway, now pay attention. These are the steps of the waltz. Left foot forward.. Yes, that’s it. I follow you, see, with my right foot going back. Next, glide your right foot sideways to the right. I’m following sideways to the left, don’t worry. I’ve got you. We’re moving as one, see? Now bring your left foot next to your right foot, close that gap.. Excellent. This is the forward half box. Now he have to do something similar for backwards, all right?”

Kakashi nods, all his focus on me.

I carry on. “Step back with your right foot.. It’s all right, don’t worry, I’m claiming that space with my left. You’re not going anywhere, I’m right here with you. Step back sideways with your left foot, yes, just like that, and now bring your right foot next to your.. Yes! Excellent. Commit all your weight to your steps, don’t worry, I’ve got you.. And this is it! The basic steps. Let me repeat them one more time..”

Kakashi is a fast learner. He gets the steps right on the first repetition, and from then on we sway together to the rhythm of Shostakovich. Barely a few turns later, I don’t even have to count ‘one, two, three’ anymore.

He’s also smiling with his eyes. No, that’s not quite right. I think he’s grinning. He’s so light on his feet, as we swish to and fro with the music, so graceful, that it’s difficult to believe he’s only a beginner. If he hadn’t told me, I’d be fooled. Maybe his flexibility comes from his martial arts training? If he teaches something fluid like judo, that could explain it.

As for my injury, thanks to his treatment it doesn’t bother me at all. For the first time in ages, I’m flying through the steps. Like in my old days, back when people called me the winged angel. In the meantime, Kakashi’s gaze acquires a visible sense of wonder, like he’s living a fairytale.

I can’t help it, I’m so elated I find myself smiling at him from the bottom of my heart again. This is what dancing is about. The freedom. The magic. “How does it feel?” I shout through the music.

“Like we’re dancing on clouds,” Kakashi says, full of awe, and my smile turns to a grin.

We spin and spin and spin and spin, the world around us blurring in the background, narrowing and disappearing until all that is left is me and him, focused on each other. We spin on empty air until all around us are only stars and sparkling motes of light and the two of us in each other’s arms.

“It’s magic, isn’t it?” I ask, traces of laughter spilling from my voice.

“Yes,” Kakashi says, sounding surprised by the revelation. “That’s exactly what it is.”

Don’t worry, angel. I’ve got you. Trust me to make you fly. You deserve it. You deserve the world.

“Let me welcome you to my world,” I say. Over my shoulder, I yell, “Kotetsu, louder!”

“Aye, aye, bestie!”

The music grows louder and the weightlessness inside me expands in response. Dancing with Kakashi like this causes pure joy to bubble in my chest, bright and effervescent, and I laugh with genuine delight like I haven’t laughed with anyone not of my family in years.

Kakashi is stunned for a few moments by my outburst, but then he joins in and laughs with me until there’s nothing else but him and me again, dancing and laughing on a cloud with the sun on our faces and the music all around us.

Time ceases to exist. Time ceases to exist and my heart lurches, a lurch that would be painful if my heart didn’t slot into place right where it belongs. With him. My heart belongs with him, I realise, and I don’t care if we’ve only been in each other’s presence for an hour, it feels like a year. A century. A lifetime. An aeon. A universe of always and forever. All of time and space, combined.

I’m in love with him, and it feels like coming home.

Our motions sync; our breaths sync; our hearts sync, and our bodies move as one. Our chemistry is unreal, while the entire time our gazes are locked on each other like we’re truly seeing the world for the very first time.

Now that I know his left eye is a prosthetic, I understand why one of his pupils was wider than the other earlier. Still is, because his right pupil has blown so wide during our dancing that his eye has turned into a fathomless ocean of black. But he’s still beautiful. I don’t care that I haven’t even seen his face, he’s so fucking beautiful he takes my breath away.

One waltz blends into another, and another, and another, my ears barely bothering to process the music while Kakashi and I fly together, weightless in the sky. Two halves of a whole. I could dance like this forever, I realise. With him.

Too soon for my liking the music fades, and I’m forced to pay attention to our surroundings again. The world reappears around us, our enchanted dancing cloud transforming back to a plain wooden floor. My brain fights back, wanting to remain focused only on my partner and the magic, but my friends have other plans.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news buddy, but time’s up,” Izumo says. “You need to get ready for your physio appointment.”

Oh fuck. I completely forgot about that.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Kakashi, bringing us to a reluctant stop, “I, uh, I lost track of time..”

“You’re not the only one,” he mutters, only a little out of breath, his eyelids fluttering like he’s trying to clear his vision. “Is it.. Does it always feel like this?”

I think I know what he means, but I want to hear the confirmation from his own mouth. “Effortless? Magic? Like the whole world falls away and there’s only you and your partner, flying together on a cloud?” I coax him.

“Yes,” he exhales.

“No. It’s not always like this,” I tell him, my eyes growing warm. “In fact.. it has never happened to me before.”

“Do..” He gets flustered again. For a moment he fights with himself, eyes darting to the side. I let him, because whatever he’s about to ask is his decision to make. A frustrated huff, followed by..

His gaze meets mine once more, but now it’s burning with resolve. This is it. “Do you also feel this?” He motions at himself, then me. “This.. insane pull, between us? I know it’s not professional, but..” He lets go of my shoulder blade and runs his hand through his hair. “Am I going crazy?”

I take his hand and lay it on my cheek, throwing all professionalism out the window. “If you’re going crazy, then we’re going crazy together,” I say softly.

His eyes widen. “So you do?”

“I fell in love with you while we were dancing,” I admit with a whisper, and it’s the simple truth.

He gasps, eyes widening further, then leans closer until our foreheads almost touch. “I fell in love with you when you graced me with your real smile,” he says, his words rushing out of his mouth, almost slurring together in his haste. “I thought an angel had blessed me with his presence. All my blood left me, I thought I was going to faint.”

It’s my turn to look at him wide-eyed. “You..”

So Kotetsu was right. Kakashi really did fall in love with me at that moment. My legs feel weak at the realisation, and I have to lean on him to support some of my weight or risk sliding to the floor. He takes it with ease, his arm winding around my waist to stabilise me.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, the double meaning of his words not escaping me this time.

“Now what?” I ask, cupping his face in my free hand.

“Please date me,” he pleads, so earnest it unravels me.

I don’t hesitate. Not with him. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asks, eyes full of hope.

A smile blooms on my face. “I said yes, didn’t I?”

His fingertips stroke my cheek, causing a faint shiver to course through me. “Forgive me, I thought I was hallucinating. Are you sure?”

I rest my forehead against his. “Why wouldn’t I be? I told you I fell in love with you, didn’t I?”

“You haven’t even seen my face yet,” he counters, but his hand curls around the nape of my neck, as if he’s afraid I’m going to disappear at any moment. I’m not, angel. I’m really not.

“You did say maybe one day,” I tease him and he laughs, that precious laughter of his that sounds more melodious to my ears than an entire symphony.

“I did,” he acknowledges with a small nod.

“How the fuck was an angel like you single until now?” I ask, still unable to believe it. It feels like nothing short of a miracle that I stumbled upon him.

A casual shrug. “Regarding the angel part.. I don’t feel like one. You, on the other hand.. I could ask the same of you. Because you deserve to be worshipped like one, Iruka.” My cheeks flush and I’m about to interrupt him, but he hurries on. “As for being single, you may have noticed this by now.. I’m not good with people.” He closes the miniscule gap between us until the tips of our noses also touch, separated only by the thin fabric of his mask. “I usually hide from them,” he murmurs.

“But you came to me,” I whisper, caressing his upper cheek with my thumb.

“I did. Best decision of my life, I think.”

“Hey, lovebirds, don’t forget Iruka’s therapy, yes?” Izumo interrupts us, bringing us back to the present. Again.

“Before I rush to my therapist I’m going to kiss your cheek, is that all right?” I ask Kakashi.

“More than all right,” he says and I lean in, planting a soft kiss above the edge of his mask.

It’s sweet. It’s so sweet I want to do it again, and again, and again, and again, and then plunge my mouth on his and kiss the life out of him, but I really have to go to my physio appointment.

“I need to go but I’ll text you, yes?” I ask, my heart aching at the prospect of leaving him when I’ve only found him.

“I’ll be waiting. May I also kiss your cheek before you leave?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” I say, and even with his mask in the way I sense the warmth and shape of his lips on my skin.

My ensuing grin is so wide it can swallow the sun. “See you, angel,” I say and hurry off, throwing the studio keys to my friends so they can lock up the place until the evening.

In turn, Izumo throws me back my normal set of keys from when he put Kakashi’s top in the washing machine, but I don’t have the time to return Kakashi’s top to him right now because I’m about to be late; it will have to wait until we meet again, which, at the rate we’re going, is not going to be long at all.

I run all the way to my physiotherapist.

Chapter Text

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘My therapist already commented on my miraculous improvement since our last appointment. He was so amazed he took notes. I think he’s beginning to suspect aliens.’

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘Shhh. I’ve managed to hide so well all these years. If the government finds out, they’ll want to conduct experiments on me.’

I snicker, mechanically performing the exercises my therapist has me cycle through to increase my flexibility while checking my phone. My fingers fly on the screen.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Oh, no. Don’t you know that governments eavesdrop on all our messages already? Please, our private agent-san, don’t tell on us.🥺’

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘Too late. I hear the helicopters closing in. If I don’t make iighft’

My snicker turns to a chortle, my phone shaking in my hands. I’m barely holding myself together.

“Umino-san, is everything all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” I say, giving my therapist a thumbs up while I’m still laughing on the inside.

At this point in my recovery I can perform these exercises with my eyes closed. My therapist’s primary function has been reduced to only checking in on me once every few minutes, then giving me feedback at the end of the session and suggesting minor adjustments for the next one according to our progress. That’s also the reason I’m able to multitask with such ease, hence my written conversation with my new boyfriend.

My boyfriend. The thought makes me want to pump my fist in the air, then spin around with joy. I can’t believe everything happened so fast. This morning I woke up being miserable and now I have a boyfriend; not only that, but he’s an actual saint as well.

Which reminds me..

‘You’ll never guess what happened today in my 1st session w the platinum package guy, uh, we’re dating now, Izumo+Kotetsu were also there, will tell you everything asap’

I send Naruto the text, knowing it may take him a while to see it because he’s at school but being unable to keep this from him. He’s the first one who needs to know. He’s the only one who needs to know. I hope he likes Kakashi, because if he doesn’t this relationship is not going to last, I don’t care how magical it is. Naruto is the most important person in my life. If he doesn’t approve, Kakashi goes. End of story.

My phone bleeps.

‘DAD WTF TELL ME NOW’

I barely have time to read the text before the screen gets taken over by his wide grin. My son is calling me, his personal ringtone blaring through my phone’s tiny speakers as the device vibrates in my hand.

“Dad, tell me everything,” he starts, the background racket telling me he’s in the school’s cafeteria. Explains how fast he was at checking and responding to my message.

Well, here goes nothing. I cross my fingers, hoping for the best, and do, indeed, tell him everything.

“..And that was when I ran away for my physio appointment, which I’m in the middle of right now by the way. I, uh.. Naruto, listen. If you don’t like this guy, I’m ending it. You’re more important to me, you understand? I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything.”

“No, dad, no. It’s.. It’s all right. If both Izumo and Kotetsu asked you to marry him then he must be really awesome, although yea, of course I wanna meet him. Soon. Yes, Shika, I kept you some of my mackerel, here, I’ll swap you for the red bean soup, sorry dad, just Shika swapping food with me. So about this Kakashi dude, maybe we could all go together somewhere? Something like a bowling alley or an arcade, maybe? Or even for ramen. Whatever. I don’t mind as long as we can talk. When can we arrange it?”

Hope flutters in my chest. “You.. You mean that?”

“Of course! Dad, I just want you to be happy, all right? Trust me, I’ll subject him to my vibe check too.” A beat, followed by a loud exhale. “Listen, dad, I didn’t want to tell you this, but.. I could tell something was off with that shitty bastard Mizuki. Right at the start. But it was only a small thing, and he seemed pleasant enough, and you were so happy, so I didn’t push it. I won’t make the same mistake with this guy. All right? You’ll get my honest gut feeling, whatever it is. No filters.”

A deep breath leaves me, my shoulders slumping with relief. “I.. Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it dad, oy, Sasuke, watch where you’re going you– Dad I gotta go, see ya after school, kay bai–”

I angle the phone away from my face and check my screen to confirm that our call has ended. Naruto’s crush on Sasuke isn’t as discreet as he thinks it is, although I don’t know if Sasuke is aware of it. At least Shikamaru will always have my son’s back; a friend for life, I think. One of the few kids that never treated my boy any less because he’s an orphan. Fucking stigma and human stupidity.

..Anyway. I swap back to my convo with Kakashi.

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Ok, well, uh, two things. One, you almost got me into trouble with my therapist because of how inattentive and bubbly I was being.. Two, if you could manage to escape from that secret experiment government detention facility, how would you feel about meeting my family? And by family I mean Naruto. I just told him about us. And he wants to meet you. Soon. I hope that’s all right?’

The three typing dots dance on my screen. The butterflies in my stomach dance with them, fluttering until his next message pops up.

[Dog lover Henohenomoheji]: ‘One: Ooh? How naughty of you, sensei. Two: Consider me an escaped man. But jokes aside, yes. Of course it’s all right. My last class tonight finishes at eight, if that’s too late we can arrange something tomorrow? Tell me what works for you.’

Tonight. He said tonight! I cheer myself on the inside, complete with victory dance and everything. Could he be more accommodating? No. No, he couldn’t. Also, he’s as eager for this as I am, I think.

My mind goes through the mental calculations real quick. Naruto has his first lesson at the famous Hatake dojo this evening, but he finishes at seven, so that gives us more than half an hour to prepare and get ready, depending on the traffic on the way home..

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Yes. We can pick you up, or you can pick us up, or we can meet.. in the middle? At our destination? First of all, where do you want to go? My son suggested bowling or an arcade but he’s good with anything, honestly. Feel free to propose something else if you like, including food. He’s also on board with dinner.’

I’m not going to tell Kakashi that my son suggested his favourite dish because I get the impression that if I do, Kakashi will want to accommodate him and we’ll end up having ramen tonight. For the third time this week. As much as I love Ichiraku, I think both my son and I need a small break. Well, not so much a break as a pause. Something different to let our palates reset for a day.

Speaking of something different, however..

[Bottlenose back flip]: ‘Also, if you start with the suggestive talk maybe slide away from DMs and into a less monitored app? Normal texts or maybe Whatsapp?’

His next message comes on my Whatsapp.

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘Hey there, handsome.’

[Me]: ‘Hey, angel.’

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘We can do blowing. I know a place near the centre, by the Yakiniku Kyu restaurant. And if we’re hungry after we’re done, we can always pop by next door. Does that sound good to you? I’ll need about ten minutes after my class finishes to freshen up, but I’ll come meet you. You’re still recovering. Simply tell me where. You said your apartment was near your studio, right? I can come to your studio again, but wait outside the building.’

I cackle when I spot his typo. Freudian slip or not, I’m not going to let it slide.

[Me]: ‘Blowing, eh? That’s bold, I like it. Not with my son present, though? Maybe next time, somewhere more private.😉 And yes, outside my studio building works. We’ll be there.’

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘Shit, that’s not what I meant to type. Sorry! Sorry! I’ll meet you there at 8:30?’

For some reason I imagine him blushing and getting all flustered as he types, which only makes me grin some more. Oh, you sweet angel. You’re so easy to tease.

[Me]: ‘It’s a date. I’ll even bring you your washed top.😘 ’

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘I completely forgot about that. You can keep it for tomorrow’s dancing lesson, if you want. I, uh.. I hope I don’t sound like a creep, but I prefer this new top better. The one that smells a bit like you. Although I’m still waiting for those recipes.’

My heart ups and melts, dissolving to a pile of goo somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach.

[Me]: ‘Not a creep.’ I want to tell him that if he likes it so much he can keep it, keep it and think of me, but I’d rather do it in person, for a more intimate delivery. ‘And I’ll get you those recipes, don’t worry!’

“Umino-san?” my therapist asks.

Oops. Time to get back to work. By now I’m near the end, so all that is left is for him to perform his usual assessment and recommendations. He looks very happy about the positive change in my condition, although as Kakashi suggested he also wants me to continue for the full month. To be on the safe side, he says. I agree, because I don’t play with my health. Not when my son depends on me.

The rest of the day passes in a pleasant whirl, with me cleaning, cooking, picking up my son from school, teaching my first full class of students..

Since they’re part of the bulk tier they don’t get the personalised treatment that Kakashi gets, obviously, but they still seem happy enough to be here. All I have to do is show them the steps, then pair them with each other and stand to the side while correcting their poses. By the end of the hour they even get most of the steps right, the sense of accomplishment bringing honest joy to my heart.

And through it all, Kakashi and I continue to flirt shamelessly with each other via messages.

Next thing I know, it’s almost time for Naruto’s first class in martial arts. I’m a bit nervous about it, I won’t lie, but despite their recluse attitude, the Hatake dojo does have the best reputation out there so I know he’ll be in good hands.

If they hadn’t granted him a full scholarship, I don’t think even selling my kidneys would be enough to have my son attend one of their sessions, let alone the entire custom programme they’ll develop for him. He showed me the acceptance e-mail. It had fancy phrases like ‘tailoring according to our students’ needs’ and ‘building up their growth according to their strengths and weaknesses’ which makes me think my son is going to have ten dan by the time they’re done with him.

“Please promise me you’ll be careful,” I tell him while I fuss over him.

“I will, dad, don’t worry.”

“And text me as soon as you’re done. Actually, never mind, I’ll be waiting right here–”

“Daaad,” my son whines, exasperated.

I sigh, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s only that I care so much about you.”

He huffs, but he hugs me back. “I know, but I’m growing up now. And this is what I’m here for. To learn to take care of myself. And you.”

“Regardless, I feel bad–”

“Please don’t. You’re the only family I have, of course I want you to be safe,” he says, voice going thick with emotion, and I squeeze him tight. So, so tight. My precious child. My little brother. My heart’s blood, I don’t care that we’re not genetically related. My only family. My Naruto.

“You’re my only family too,” I say, moisture welling up in my eyes, but I loosen my hold, not wanting him to be late. “Now go, before I change my mind and squeeze you some more.”

He giggles and runs off with a cheerful wave. “I’ll be fine dad, don’t worry! Later!”

It’s a long hour. Even longer because Kakashi is also teaching one of his classes. He sends me the occasional message every ten minutes or so, but of course his students take priority. I understand. We did the same when I was teaching mine.

Since the minutes seem to crawl by like years, I take the opportunity to acquaint myself with the neighbourhood. After all, Naruto will be coming here often now. It’s posher than mine of course, but not too far off downtown. Walkable at a brisk pace, although it’s also served by a few of our public transport lines.

But the best thing about it is that it’s surrounded by trees. So many trees. My eyes feel refreshed thanks to the abundance of green around me while the occasional breeze makes the leaves rustle in the best way. It’s music, plain and simple. The sun dappling through the branches flirts with me, its rays flickering in and out of my vision. Merely being here soothes my soul.

Unlike our apartment near the hustling and bustling centre, this neighbourhood looks like it’s been dropped right in the middle of a forest. And it only contains a couple of properties, from the looks of it. The Hatake dojo, of course, as well as what I think is the Hatake estate adjacent to it. I have to abandon the task of trying to walk around their perimeter fence when I realise I’m not even halfway through and my son’s class is about to finish, so I hurry back the best I can without aggravating my injury.

In the nick of time.

“Dad!” My son waves at me again, coming straight off the big gate. He’s wearing a radiant grin on his face, which I take as a positive sign.

“Tell me everything,” I encourage him, opening my arms for him when he starts jogging my way. “How was it? What did you learn? Who else was there? Did you like it?”

Naruto jumps in my welcoming hug and I give him a little spin, but he laughs at the onslaught of my questions. “Easy, dad! It was good, even better than what I expected. No wonder it’s the best! And Sasuke was there as well, what are the odds of that! Ah, before I forget though, yes, you can marry him.”

I put my son down and hand him a towel to dry himself until we get home and he can hop in the shower, but I cock my head to the side at his last sentence. “Eh? Marry whom?” I ask, confused.

My son does his Captain Obvious impression. He crosses his arms, puffing out his chest. “Kakashi sensei, who else?”

“But you haven’t met him yet,” I say, trying to figure out–

Wait. Wait a minute.

“Does he work at the Hatake dojo?” I ask.

Naruto nods. “Yup, yup! He’s the one who taught us. He said I have poor coordination but great potential, and he won’t stop training me until he’s sure that I can protect you from all harm. That was nice of him, I thought. He cares, dad. He truly cares. All the vibe checks passed with flying colours. Oh, and when I told him my favourite food is ramen he said he’ll treat us next time, I can’t wait!” My son beams at me, clearly fantasising about the free food Kakashi promised him. I can tell, because his eyes glaze over and he drools a little.

We start for home, but my mind is busy. More pieces slot together. He.. He must have been the one who was reviewing the dojo’s application forms. He must have found me through my son’s post, the one where Naruto was going ‘please help my dad’, while he was checking on the person who submitted the application. ‘I only wanted to help,’ he said earlier today, and holy kami can he get any more perfect than this?

“I..” I’m flabbergasted. I’m floored. I need to marry this man and I need to do it yesterday. Kotetsu was right. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry him. But we may need to go on a few dates first. We don’t want to scare him away, do we?”

Naruto shrugs. “I don’t think he’d be scared, but sure. Oh, did you know he also has dogs? How nice is that! We only met a pug today but he said that next time he’ll let us play a bit with all of them during the break, I’m so excited!”

“Dogs, eh? Plural?” With his username, it makes sense. “I wonder how many,” I mumble. With everything going on between us, I forgot to ask him. I still can’t believe it was only this morning when I met him for the first time. Talk about a whirlwind romance. Love at first sight, eh. Must be true, because it happened to both of us.

“He said a few? I think. I don’t remember a number. Don’t worry dad, we can ask him later.”

True. Unable to contain myself, I inch my hand towards my phone.

[Me]: ‘Congratulations, you have my son’s approval. You’re not getting out of that date, though.’

It takes him a while to answer because he’s busy with his next class. In the meantime, Naruto and I make it home and I whip up a quick snack while my son takes a shower. The next time my phone vibrates, I dive for it so fast it almost drops from my hands.

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘I’m honestly glad. I meant to tell you, but I forgot with everything else happening. But trust me when I say I don’t want to get out of that date. It.. Has it only been one morning?’

I smile like an idiot.

[Me]: ‘I was thinking the same thing only a few minutes ago. Difficult to believe, isn’t it? But yes, yes it has. For what it’s worth.. Thank you. For everything. You’re single-handedly saving us. In more ways than one.’

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘You’re being too kind. Today.. Today has been the best day I’ve had in.. years, probably. It may sound corny, but it’s true. Thank you. For everything.💖’

[Me]: ‘If you keep this up, we’ll be dancing that tango at our wedding.’

It’s sent before I process that I typed it. Oops. Oh, well. I can always play it as a joke.

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘You know exactly how to motivate me, Iruka sensei. I’ll do everything I can to be the best student you ever had. PS: I’ll be looking forward to it. Will we be doing that thing with the rose in the mouth, too? It looks so intimate. And hot, I won’t lie.’

I snort. If this came from anyone else I’d laugh in their face, but Kakashi is such a treasure that if he wants the terrible stereotype.. I’ll give it to him without hesitation. I’ll give him anything he wants.

[Me]: ‘For you, we’ll even do the terrible stereotype. Why not. After our experience with the waltz today.. It will be the most sensual dance of your life, that much I can guarantee.😘’

[My angel boyfriend]: ‘Say no more. I can hardly wait. Class wrapping up, see you soon.😘’

“Dad, I’m ready!”

Good timing. I hand Naruto one of the sandwiches I prepared while finishing up mine.

“Do I look good?” I ask, wiping a few errant breadcrumbs from my top.

“You alwaysh look ghood, dad,” Naruto says, mouth full while attempting to inhale his sandwich. I swear my son has a black hole for a stomach, because no matter how much he eats he doesn’t gain any weight. A true mystery to science.

I fiddle a bit more with my clothes, smoothing out a few creases here and there. I don’t know why I’m nervous all of a sudden at the prospect of my date with Kakashi, since I only saw him a few hours ago. And we’re both smitten with each other, so it’s not like I’m afraid of him not reciprocating my feelings.

All right Iruka, focus. We can do this. Are we forgetting anything? Oh! His top. It’s been waiting for him, ironed and folded, so I make sure to grab it. Then it hits me. The recipes. I forgot to also send him the recipes.

It’d be easy for me to send them off in a text, but.. my fingers itch for that homemade touch, to go with the homemade detergent theme.

“Naru-chan, do you remember where we stashed those colourful crafting papers last time?”

“Uh.. Second drawer on your desk? Or bottom? The one with the scissors. I think.”

“I’m thinking of writing down my detergent and fabric softener recipes for Kakashi and handing them to him like a mini present, do you think that would be too silly?”

Naruto shrugs. “Why would it be silly?” Ah, children. So innocent. “He’s already head over heels in love with you, you could give him a mud pie and he’d be grateful for it,” Naruto adds, and I take it back. They’re not innocent at all.

“Oy,” I say, but there’s no heat behind it.

A quick visit to my desk proves that my son was right, so I get to work. Won’t be my best craft project ever, but with a bit of twirled colourful yarn it will look better; everything does. Is it corny as fuck? Sure. Is Kakashi also corny as fuck? Apparently, yes. Yes he is, which is why I’m doing this in the first place.

“Seriously dad, do whatever you feel like. If he doesn’t appreciate it, it’s his problem,” Naruto says, and it’s the most profound thing he’s said ever, I think. My little boy is growing wise! “But I think he will.”

I smile at him, that real smile which comes straight from my heart, and he beams at me with his trademark sunshine grin. My hands almost blur together in their excitement, and I finish the rest of my impromptu project in a couple of minutes.

“All done! You ready?”

“Yup.”

“Let’s go,” I say, and we walk out together.

Chapter Text

We don’t have to wait for long. When my watch says eight thirty, Kakashi appears around the corner. Again, his timing is impeccable. His hair still looks a bit soggy from the quick shower he must have taken after his last class, almost flopping to one side, but all that does is make him look sexier. He’s still wearing my top, I realise, although it doesn’t seem damp or sweaty. Did he take it off and put it back on for our date? Because there’s no way he didn’t break a sweat during his martial arts classes.

..Right?

He waves a hand as he rushes towards us. “Hey. Hope I’m not late.”

“You’re exactly on time,” I say with a fond smile while he reaches us. Without me telling them to, my feet take a small step towards him, as if pulled by gravity.

His eyes fix on me, gaze growing warm, while the distance between us diminishes further, this time from his side. He stands so close in front of me that I can almost taste his breath, mask be damned. The atmosphere feels thicker around him. Or maybe that’s around us? All I know is, he’s taking over my senses.

“Could I.. May I.. kiss your cheek?” he asks, all shy, making my heart grow another two sizes.

Naruto snorts. “Only his cheek, Kakashi sensei? Sasuke and I–” He breaks into an awkward cough, realising what he almost blurted out. Smooth, kiddo. I’ll be looking forward to you telling me all about your first kiss with your frenemy later.

I offer Kakashi my cheek, but when his clothed lips meet my skin I wind my arms around him in a gentle hug, whispering against his ear. “It doesn’t have to be only my cheek, you know. But maybe when Naruto is occupied?” A beat, where both our heartbeats thunder in my ears. “Don’t worry, I won’t look at your face,” I add to reassure him.

I may not know why he’s so reluctant to reveal his face, but his bodily autonomy is his own business. If, or when, he wants to trust me with the sight, it’ll be an honour. For now, my lips find the tip of his ear and press a soft kiss there, a promise of things to come.

Kakashi’s breath catches, his fingers clutching at my lower back as he returns my embrace. Although the embrace is conscious, I suspect the clutching is an automatic reflex. “I..” He sounds gravelly now. “I’d very much like that.”

Oh, angel. “You don’t even have to ask.” I rest my forehead against his, keeping my voice a tender whisper. “After all, we’re dating, aren’t we?”

“Consent is important,” he says, and if I wasn’t in love with him already I’d be falling all over again.

A smile blooms on my face, unbidden. “You’re right. It is. It very much is. You have my consent to kiss me, although as I said, I’d rather not do it in front of my kid. Not only on the mouth but anywhere you want. Although for those other kisses, definitely not in front of my kid. Is that all right? Am I also allowed to kiss you?”

“Anything you want,” Kakashi says in a rush, and again I’m fascinated by how this treasure of a man managed to stay single for this long.

To say his heart is a tender flower is like stating that the sea is wet: technically accurate, but a gross understatement. I don’t care how much he’s been hiding from people, he should be canonised and worshipped. I want to cradle him in my arms and keep him safe forever. I want to protect him from all harm. I want to love him and devote myself to him and keep him always happy. Because it’s the least he deserves.

“Angel, I want anything you’re willing to give me,” I murmur, nuzzling him with my nose.

“I.. I..” A frustrated sigh. “You’re making this so difficult.”

He pulls me closer until our chests press against each other and I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. Clean, like a bright summer’s day. With a hint of understated danger, like a gathering storm. But not towards me. He’s not dangerous to me. For some reason, his scent reminds me of lightning, and I huddle deeper, looking for the accompanying rain.

“Am I? Why?” I ask simply. If we both want this, what’s so difficult about it?

“Because you’re the angel, not me. Because I want to give you so much. So, so much,” Kakashi says, voice thick with emotion.

I rub his back in small circles. Something tells me he needs it. “We’re at an impasse then, because so do I,” I counter, but I keep my tone light. As I told my son earlier, I don’t want to scare Kakashi away. “All that you need to know is that I’m willing, and since you’re also willing.. Anyway, we have all the time ahead of us to sort things out. For now let’s go on our date, shall we?”

Kakashi nods, loosening his grasp on me, although he couldn’t make his reluctance more obvious if he tried.

Foolish angel. I’m not going anywhere. Not now that I have him.

“You can still hold me, you know,” I offer. “In fact, I’d rather you did.” I take his hand in mine, the motion as natural as breathing.

Our fingers thread together, and again, it feels like magic. Binding us to each other. It feels so, so fucking right. Kakashi’s eyes light up, crinkling at the corners in what I’m learning to read as an honest smile, and he gives me a gentle squeeze. I squeeze him back. There we go, angel. See? I’ve got you.

Now that I know his left eye is a prosthetic, I make a point of placing myself on his right side.

“For your peripheral vision,” I explain, although it should be self-explanatory, but his eyes widen with surprise.

“You mean it,” he breathes, looking at me like I’ve sprouted wings and a halo.

I blink, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?” Surely it’s only common courtesy, right? Right? I mean, he’s blind on his other side.

He flusters again, in a mixture of embarrassment and self-guilt I think. “I.. I don’t.. People don’t.. Usually.. Apart from Gai..”

Oh, angel. Are you for real? Is Green Beast Gai the only decent human being he’s ever known? Fucking fuck’s sake. The bar is below the ninth circle of hell, I swear. Indignation rises inside me, but I don’t want to upset Kakashi, especially when it’s not directed at him but at all the pieces of scum that have treated him like dirt in the past. They don’t deserve him and his heart of gold.

I focus on easing his worries, instead. In an effort to comfort him, I pull him in an embrace again, but this time it’s a protective one. I cover as much as I can of his frame with my wide palms and my splayed fingers, letting my body heat seep into him.

My voice comes out low next to his ear. “You may have hung out with trash in the past, but when you’re with me I’ll treat you like a human. No; more than a human. Like the angel you really are. All right?”

He shakes his head, but his arms wind around me, mirroring my hold. “I’m not–”

“Shh,” I coo. “You are. You may not see it, but you really are.” A soft kiss on his hair. “Obviously it’s in my benefit to keep you in the dark, but I’ll be damned if I don’t show you how much you’re worth. And trust me when I say.. you’re blinding. Radiant. Resplendent. You’re the sun itself, angel, if only you realise it.”

A self-deprecating bark of a laugh. “Iruka, I..” His voice shakes. So does his body. His fingers clench, scrunching my top in their grasp.

I’m close, I can feel it. All he needs is another small push. “I mean it,” I add, adamant. I want him to know that I’m serious. “Your heart is golden. You’re a treasure. You’re so fucking precious I want to hold you in my arms and keep you there, where you’ll be safe, forever. Forever, Kakashi. Do you understand?”

Every single word I spoke right now is the simple truth. At this rate I might as well fall on one knee and ask him to marry me, even with the risk of him running away screaming.

“Iruka,” Kakashi breathes, but his hold on me tightens, so much that it hurts my ribs. A low grunt escapes me. Kakashi instantly relinquishes the pressure, rushing to apologise. “Shit, I’m sorry, I–”

“Hush,” I reassure him, maintaining my protective hold of him. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” I nuzzle his hair with my nose. “So.. Do you think you can do that for me, angel? Realise what a treasure you are? Or at least try?”

He clutches at me again, although I don’t think it’s a reflex this time. His fingertips press against my skin, their warmth seeping through the fabric of my top, and he swallows, the sound audible in the small space between us.

“I.. I’ll try. For you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper with genuine gratitude, pressing my lips against his hair again. “Thank you so much.”

“No, I should be the one thanking you,” Kakashi starts, but I stop him with another tender kiss.

“Hush. Hush,” I murmur. “Today has been the best day of my life in ages, and you don’t even know it. Since the moment you stepped foot in my studio. Because of everything you did. Everything you still do.” A car honks in the distance and reality filters in again around us. It’s only when it returns that I realise it faded away for a few moments. “But I think we’ve stalled enough. For now, how about we go on that amazing date of ours, hmm?”

“Yes, please,” Kakashi agrees, and presses a hesitant kiss on my hair before withdrawing. Again, his reluctance to move away from me is so obvious it’s adorable.

That’s it, angel. Kiss me all you want. I’m not going anywhere now that I’ve found you.

I meet his gaze with another true smile from the depths of my soul, and he zooms in on it, transfixed.

“Anything for you,” he adds, more breath than voice.

While Kakashi and I have been lost in our own world, my son has taken out his phone. My eyes dart to the side, spotting the telltale pattern of his fingers that tells me he’s texting instead of scrolling or playing some random game. My bet is on either Sasuke or Shikamaru, the former because of what apparently happened between them today or the latter for advice, also for the same.

“Naruto, you good?” I ask to confirm.

“Yup, dad, just catching up with Shika,” he mumbles without raising his eyes from the screen.

He’s not panicking, which is a good sign. Then again, Shikamaru is a genius. I bet he’s already formulating a masterful strategic battle plan for my son to win over his frenemy in ten easy steps or less. Combined with my son’s stubbornness, Sasuke doesn’t stand a chance against their united front. I hope.

I return my focus to Kakashi. “You said the bowling alley was near the Yakiniku Kyu place, right? That’s only a few blocks away. Shall we?” I start, taking the initiative.

Hand in hand, we walk together. Both of us are giddy with joy, so vibrant it makes our hands shake. But no matter how much they do, we only hold each other tighter.

Kakashi matches my steps, accommodating my slower speed, but that happy spark in his eyes never fades. I know, because he turns to look at me so often I have to steer him away from a lamppost more than once. Not that I’m faring much better. Naruto has to tug me by the hem twice, making me pause for traffic or veer away from bumping into another pedestrian.

“So, you work at the Hatake dojo,” I tell Kakashi when we stop at the next pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to change.

“I.. I don’t exactly work at the Hatake dojo.”

My eyebrows rise. “You don’t? But Naruto–”

“I, uh, I technically am the Hatake dojo,” he mumbles.

“You what??” I blink in surprise.

“There’s only one of me. The last Hatake. I run everything,” he says, eyes darting away. His free hand comes up to rub the back of his neck in what must be a nervous gesture. He feels uncomfortable, I can tell. Because of his shyness?

“You’re the genius behind the Hatake dojo? The best and–”

“Please,” he says, fidgeting. “It.. It’s nothing special.”

Oh, you sweet angel. Fucking hells, I was right.

“Come here,” I tell him, not giving a shit about the light anymore. I envelop him in a tight hug, crushing him so hard that his breath leaves him with an audible oomph. “It’s very much something special,” I say, voice low next to his ear again. “It’s special to my son. And to me.” He obviously doesn’t care about the rest of the world, but he does care about us. I hope. “Because for us, the opportunity alone is everything. Do you understand?”

“I..” A small shake of his head. “How can you be so kind?” he asks, breath shaky, but he holds me back equally tight, as if he’s afraid to leave me for a single moment.

“Shh, hush. You’re kinder than I am,” I say, and before he refutes me I decide to give him something else to think about by pressing a kiss against his hair, then another at the tip of his ear again. “Was.. was that all right?” I ask to make sure.

It works. Kakashi rubs his head against mine, like he’s unable to control himself. “Do you even have to ask? I told you anything, didn’t I?”

Holy Kami, he’s a fool. He’s a fool, but apparently he’s my fool now. “You did,” I admit. “All right angel, let’s try to make it to that bowling alley because I’d rather not risk being run over by a car when I’ve only found you, hmm?”

“Please don’t,” he agrees, and we move on again.

The bowling alley lies in front of us when I remember the envelope I have with me. “Oh. I forgot, I also have a small present for you.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen with surprise. “You do?”

“Mmmhmm. But I’ll give it to you after we settle down.”

“I didn’t have the time to get you anything,” he says, sheepish, but I stop him before he does something stupid like apologise or dart off to get me a bouquet of flowers.

“It’s not.. it’s not what you think. I only thought that you’d appreciate it. Barely qualifies as a present, really. Besides, does it even count as one when you asked for it?”

“Asked for..” Kakashi cocks his head to the side, contemplating, then his eyes light up with comprehension. “The recipes for your homemade detergent and softener!”

“Got it in one,” I say, a real smile blooming on my face again.

Might as well call this man my precious person now, because nobody else has ever managed to make me truly smile so much on the first day I met them apart from Naruto, and he was a baby at the time. Kakashi’s entire being focuses on the sight, acquiring that hazed look I mistook for him having a health condition or being about to faint on me the first time it happened.

“Please never stop smiling,” he mutters, then shakes his head to clear it. Pink spreads on his cheeks, visible enough for me to see.

Before he launches into another self-deprecating speech, I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re the first person outside my family that has made me smile so much, you know. After what happened.” His expression darkens, no doubt thinking of what did happen, but I don’t want the past to dampen our evening so I squeeze him again. “Please carry on,” I encourage him.

“I will.” He squeezes me back, strong and steady. “Trust me, I will.” A determined nod. “And.. thank you. For trusting me with your smile. I’ll do my best to not let you down.”

“You already do, I think. Your best, that is. I can’t see you letting me down either, to be honest,” I say, the corners of my mouth curling, but by now we’ve entered the bowling alley and I have to focus on our surroundings. “First things first, let’s get us some shoes.” Turning to my son, I ask, “Naruto, do you have a preference for where you want us to sit?”

“End lane, maybe? I’d rather not be in the middle. Also, can you get me a slushie? I’ll hop to the bathroom real quick.”

“Got it!” Turning back to Kakashi, I add, “Are you good with a corner lane?”

“It’s my preference, too,” he says, so we approach the bored woman behind the counter.

I give her our shoe sizes, well, mine and Naruto’s, while Kakashi adds his, and we pick the corner lane that is empty, letting her populate our board with our names. After Kakashi and I settle down and change our footwear, I’m ready to grab us some drinks.

“My son wants a slushie, what about you?”

Kakashi glances around, looking a little lost. “What are our options?”

A suspicion begins to form in my mind. “Have you been bowling before?”

“No? But I didn’t want Naruto to feel left out on our first outing and a group activity seemed like a good choice. Better than an arcade, where most video games are for one person only or in a versus mode for two, tops. I did watch some videos online, though. It looks simple enough. And like I said, we can hop to Yakiniku Kyu after this if we also want to grab a bite. My treat. Unless you want us to go to a ramen place, for Naruto? That’s also fine with me, although I did promise him earlier today to treat him to ramen soon anyway.”

“How–” I start, struggling to put everything into words.

The impossibility of him being real hits me again. How he hasn’t tried bowling before, or how he’s not married, let alone being single, or how he’s so fucking precious. Well, he’s no longer single, but still. And for wanting to include Naruto in what we’re doing on what is also our first date.. For that alone, my heart melts.

If I’m dreaming, please never wake me up again. I pinch myself, but sure enough, it hurts.

“Ow,” I mumble, rubbing the spot to soothe it.

Kakashi blinks, although I think he’s amused. He’s real, all right. I don’t know how, I don’t care, but he is. So I’m latching on to him with everything I have.

“You know what, never mind. This is your first time, right? We’ll make it one to remember. Come with me, angel,” I say, extending my hand to him in what is becoming a pleasant habit. Our habit.

He takes it, looking as awestruck as the first time, and I guide him to the bar, holding him tight the whole time, our fingers threaded together the way they were meant to. After a brief overview of the available options we end up with a couple of the house drinks and my son’s slushie, and by the time we make it back to our table Naruto is also there, tying his shoelaces.

“How did your phone call go?” I ask, knowing for a fact that he didn’t only go to the bathroom. Naruto ruffles his hair, giving me a weak laugh. “Spill, kiddo,” I add, but my eyes are warm.

His eyes dart to Kakashi, who’s studying the bowling balls like he’s never held one before. Well, he hasn’t. In the end Naruto must decide that Kakashi is trustworthy, because with a deep breath, he carries on.

“So, uh, Sasuke and I accidentally kissed today..,” he starts, fidgeting.

I give him an encouraging nod. There’s no way they ‘accidentally’ kissed, but I leave that thought to myself. My son needs my support, and he’s having it.

“You see dad, I was standing in front of him and he was sulking as usual, but then some guy from our class bumped into me from behind and I fell forward..” Here, his cheeks flush. Sure, let’s call it an accident. What I’m interested in is how you won’t get your heart broken, baby. “But then Sasuke went all red and ran away?” Naruto starts to gesticulate as he speaks, gaining momentum. “And spent the rest of the day avoiding me? Like, what’s his deal?” Uh huh. So Sasuke is interested. Or at least not indifferent. “So I’ve been chatting with Shika about it, and he’s coming up with this plan..” Called it. “Which is what we were talking about right now.” He looks at me, all hopeful. “Uh, dad? Do you think I stand a chance?”

I didn’t before he told me that Sasuke ran away and avoided him, but I do now. “Honestly? Yes.”

“You do??? Yatta!!! Thank you, dad!!!” Naruto launches himself at me with the force of a small hurricane and my breath leaves me in a wheeze. “Wait, you’re not only saying this to make me feel better, do you?”

I shake my head. “That would be cruel, Naru-chan. No. If he ran away and avoided you, then he must also feel something. At the very least, he doesn’t feel nothing. But it may take him a while to sort everything out.”

“That’s what Shika said, too! Dad, you’re brilliant!”

I give his hair an affectionate ruffle. “I’m not, but thank you for your confidence in me. Anyway, I trust Shikamaru to help you.”

“I’m so happy,” Naruto squeals, squeezing me, and I ruffle his hair some more. My precious family, all growing up.

“So am I. I’m so happy for you,” I say, and reciprocate his squeeze before letting him go. “Now pick up a ball and let’s play, hmm?”

Naruto jumps in a victory pose. “Yes!”

“Same goes for you,” I tell Kakashi, who’s still examining the nearby available balls. Understanding his predicament, I add, “Would you like me to help you choose?”

“You would?” he asks, hopeful, then motions at them. “It’s only that.. there are so many of them, I’m at a loss.”

Naruto’s phone rings. I know who it is by the personalised ringtone. Anyway, not my business. I’ll leave them to their battle plan and hope for the best.

“Oh, dad, Shika is calling me again. Be right back!”

“Take care,” I say, shuffling next to Kakashi. Our fingers somehow find each other again, threading together, although I don’t remember telling my brain to initiate the motion. My eyes scan the available options with practised ease. Since I already know Kakashi’s approximate weight and how he moves, I choose what I think is the best fit for him. “This one,” I point with my chin. “The blue one.”

He picks it up. Rolls it in his free hand. “Hmm. Nice feel. Hefty, yet not enough to be a hindrance. Good balance. I’ll use it, thank you.”

A shrug. “I haven’t done this many times, either. Only for the occasional fun with friends. If you’re looking for professionals, you’ll be disappointed.”

“I’m only looking to have a great night with you,” he says softly, and my heart tumbles in my chest.

“I think we can manage that,” I counter, finding myself smiling again. “Oh. Oh! Your present! Shit, I forgot again,” I say, but Kakashi calms me down with a gentle squeeze.

“You mean you remembered,” he corrects me, placing the blue bowling ball back on the rack and returning us to our table.

By unspoken agreement, we sit next to each other. I use the opportunity to get my envelope out with my free hand and lay it on the table, my other hand still holding his. “Here.” I slide the envelope towards him, finding myself flushing a little. “I told you it’s nothing special, but..”

“Oh, but it is, my Iruka. Because you made it for me.”

An electric current goes through me at the sound of him calling me his. I find my eyelids fluttering, my head light. “Please say that again,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

“You made it for me?”

“The other thing.” At his confused blink, I add, “You called me your Iruka.”

“Oh. Oh! ” Warmth spreads on his face again, beyond the borders of his mask, painting him rosy. It makes him look so sweet, I want to make it happen again, and again, and again, and again. I want to find out exactly how deep that flush of his goes. “My Iruka,” he says again, this time almost shy.

I lean in, guided by a physical force I can’t resist. “Again,” I whisper.

“My Iruka,” he repeats, his voice lowering in volume to match mine, but it shakes.

“Again,” I breathe under hooded lids. My eyes are closing. Something rustles.

“My Iruka,” Kakashi echoes, more breath than voice, and this time, our mouths meet.

Our mouths meet, soft and warm and pliant, and my brain goes quiet.

This is our kiss. This is our kiss. This is our kiss. This is our kiss.

My hands creep up to his hair, wanting to hold him, to pull him closer, while he does the same with me, fingers burrowing under my ponytail, blunt nails slightly scratching my scalp, and Kami my entire body breaks into a shudder. I moan, a deep moan from the bottom of my heart, my lips parting, and Kakashi takes my moan inside him with his kiss, deep inside him where it will be safe forever.

I bury my fingers down to the last knuckle in his lush hair, his hair which looks so spiky and manic but is actually soft, so soft I want to relish it, so soft I want to bury myself in it and sigh with delight forever, and I try to pull him closer but there’s nowhere closer for him to go.

Our breaths mingle, our tastes mingle, everything mingles while I float in a sea of sensations, my brain only processing his hands on my hair and my fingers in his and our kiss, our kiss, our kiss.

Our kiss.

A heartbeat thuds loud as thunder between us, no wait, it’s two, it’s two but they’re beating as one, making our bodies vibrate against each other with their force while our mouths open wider, our fingers go deeper, our chests push against each other so hard it begins to hurt–

“Da- aaaaack!”

We part with a gasp, me rushing to pull Kakashi’s mask back up before I open my eyes, him trying to do the same, our hurried fingers accidentally tangling next to his face to the point where neither of us can move. Panic settles in–

“You know what, I’ll get another slushie, back in five!” Naruto scurries away, the sound of his footsteps fading in the background.

My eyes are still closed, our fingers are still intertwined, and I’m sure Kakashi’s mask is a crumpled mess, but he rests his forehead against mine and laughs, a small laugh that reaches me all the way to my soul. My mouth curls in response. Something tells me that one day we’ll think back on this moment with equal parts fondness and amusement.

“Umm..,” Kakashi starts. “Before we kiss again.. Do you remember when I told you ‘maybe one day’?”

I give him a small nod. This is important to him, I can tell.

“I.. I think I’d like that day to be now. If that’s all right with you.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, frowning, eyes still shut tight. “I don’t want you to feel pressured only because we kissed. When you’re ready, you’re ready. I’ll wait for you, as long as it takes, no matter what.”

“How..” His voice begins to tremble. “How are you even real,” he breathes.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question, but about you,” I counter. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll be here for you, all right? There’s no rush. No rush at all.”

A small shake of his head. “I’m not in a rush. I want you to see me, there’s no doubt about that. It’s the least you deserve.” A shaky breath. “But, my Iruka, I.. I’m scarred,” he whispers, hesitant, his voice trembling harder, and my heart goes out to him again. “So please.. Please be gentle,” he pleads, and it’s almost my undoing.

“You precious, precious angel. I’m never going to let you get hurt again. I don’t care if you have a fucking xenomorph mouth in there, I’m in love with you, all right?” I try to reassure him the best I can. I’m not going anywhere, he needs to know this. “I don’t care if you’re scarred, or burned, or whatever. I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not leaving you. My Kakashi..” I stroke his temples with my fingertips, my touch featherlight, doing my best to comfort him. “You already have me.”

Another shaky breath, followed by a tender kiss against my palm which makes tears well up at the corners of my eyes. “Your Kakashi,” he echoes, as if trying the sound of it. “Your Kakashi,” he repeats, this time with more confidence. “Your Kakashi,” he says again, and this time it’s a statement. “I.. Yes. I’m yours. All.. All right.” Another tender kiss on my palm, which curls by itself in an attempt to keep the sensation there forever. “Please open your eyes, my Iruka.”

Chapter Text

I open my eyes. Kakashi, my Kakashi, is looking at me, eyes filled with shy hope, the entirety of his face now bare for me to see. It feels intimate, so intimate, like he’s revealing his soul to me.

He didn’t lie; he is scarred. It’s the same vertical scar that is only half visible with his mask on, its length running parallel with his nose, all the way down to the bottom of his cheek. A small beauty mark rests near the corner of his mouth. On anyone else it would look sexy, but on him it’s innocent; unassuming.

Is this really what he’s worried about?

“Angel, you’re gorgeous,” I tell him, my tears spilling from my eyes, and I hasten to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re gorgeous– You’re gorgeous– You’re gorgeous– You’re gorgeous– You’re gorgeous– I love you– I love you– I love you– I love you–” I rush, accompanying my words with frantic kisses everywhere I can reach: his cheeks, his mouth, his eyes, his eyebrows, his forehead, his chin–

“You.. You really mean that?” he asks, but his hands are pulling me closer as if he’s afraid I’m going to bolt now that I’ve seen him. I’m not even sure if he realises he’s doing it.

There’s no way that I’d leave. Not now, when I have him. Not in any universe, or lifetime.

“Yes,” I say with enthusiasm, giving him another kiss, this one on his nose, “Yes,” I repeat, following it with another, on his beauty mark, “Fuck yes,” I add, and this time I claim his lips with mine.

Whatever he was about to say is muffled by my mouth, but his arms close around me, strong and steady. He has me. He has me and something tells me he’s not letting me go. Laughter bubbles up inside him, laughter and joy, spreading to me, and this time we smile in our kiss like two lost souls who have finally found each other.

“I love you too,” he breathes between kisses, “But Naruto–”

He’s right. No matter how much I want to continue tasting him, my son’s about to come back. I already feel bad for having traumatised my poor kid tonight, so I hum in agreement and wind down our kiss. It takes me all I have to not plunge in again, but the small voice of logic in my head wins, although I still have to spend a few moments simply brushing my lips against Kakashi’s.

With a reluctant sigh, Kakashi and I cover his face together with our still-tangled fingers, which apparently can’t be separated anymore.

That taken care of, I guide Kakashi’s palm against my cheek and let it rest there, then turn to leave a tender kiss on its centre like he did with mine earlier. “No rush, yes?” I ask, hopeful. After all, we have time. We have all the time in the world.

He nods, the corners of his eyes doing their usual crinkle. He’s smiling again. “No rush at all.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “I can unlock the studio earlier tomorrow, if you want. You’re still my first client for the day.”

His gaze grows warmer while his smile must widen, because his eyes almost shut in a happy arch. “I think I’d like that,” he says softly. “What about Izumo and Kotetsu, though? Will they be all right with coming in earlier?”

Oh, angel. I toss him a wink. “I think I’ll be fine with only you.”

“You will,” he says, all earnest. “You are. I won’t betray your trust, I promise. I’ll do my best to greet you with the best morning kiss ever, oh, do you want me to also bring breakfast? Anything you want. I mean it.”

My heart melts again. That cheesy pick-up line about whether it hurt when he fell from heaven rings to mind, because in his case it’s apt.

“Only your wonderful self, angel. But we can arrange breakfast separately if you like. Before or after our lesson? I guess after would make it a brunch. Would you like brunch instead?”

“Anything you want, my Iruka. I’ll let you decide. All you have to do is tell me and I’ll make it happen. We have until tomorrow, hmm?”

You precious thing. Why do I have the feeling that if I let you, you’ll give me the world?

Kami-sama, please help me protect this man the way he deserves. Fabric rustles as I hug him tight, so, so tight, because I’m not letting him go no matter what, but it reminds me..

“Oh, another thing I forgot. It seems I’m doing a lot of that today. Your top, I still haven’t returned it to you. I have it with me, all clean, here, give me a moment..”

Kakashi stops me with a gentle motion of his hand. “It’s all right, you can keep it.” He points downwards with his chin, where my top is still straining at the seams trying to envelop him. “I.. As I told you earlier, I think I prefer this one. It’s a bit tight, but it smells like you.” A hint of shyness, his gaze dropping until his eyelashes kiss his cheeks. I want to kiss them too. “If that.. If that’s all right with you, that is?”

“Do you even have to ask? You know it is. Keep it. Keep it, and when you wear it, please think of me,” I reassure him, while I cheer in my head.

We’re exchanging clothes already! Yes!

The thought of my boyfriend wanting to keep wearing my top does something to me. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, in the best possible way, while my heart goes all warm and fuzzy. The gesture feels so intimate and trusting, I want to squeeze the life out of him.

That does it. Tomorrow, I’m also wearing his top. He said I can keep it, right? I can’t wait to see the look on his face when we show up wearing each other’s clothes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, all hopeful.

I snort. “Angel, when I first saw you wearing it I drooled a bit on the inside. I’m not gonna lie, it looks better on you than it does on me. But now you can smell like me too,” I add, pointing at the forgotten envelope on the table.

“True, but it’s not the same. Thank you, though. Thank you so much. I will think of you when I wear it.” His eyes grow warm. “My boyfriend’s top,” he says softly, as if cherishing the idea, then motions at the envelope. “May I?”

“That’s what it’s here for.”

He drags my hand with his, making us open the envelope together until my little impromptu craft project is revealed. It looks all wonky in my eyes, the handwritten notes in rushed calligraphy, but the added yarn at the corner does make it prettier as I thought it would.

It’s my turn to be overcome with shyness. “Do you like it?” I ask, tentative.

“I’m going to frame it on the wall,” Kakashi says, and I laugh at his understated sense of humour. “What?” he adds. “I’m not joking.”

I cock my head to the side, trying to discern if he’s actually serious. “You’re not?”

“No,” he says, sliding the cardboard back inside the envelope with careful motions. “This is your first present to me. I need to cherish it, the way it deserves. Besides, my walls are empty, there’s plenty of space to hang it. And that way, I’ll never lose the recipes either.”

“You.. You.. You..” My brain fizzles, unable to process. Error, thought not found.

“Yours,” Kakashi says, leaning in for a clothed kiss, although it still leaves my lips tingling.

When are we getting married, again?

“Hey dad, how’s the game going?” Naruto slides across us with another slushie in hand, eyes glued on his phone.

“What game?” I ask, stupefied, then sense heat rise to my cheeks at Kakashi’s warm chuckle and my son’s grin.

Kakashi winds both arms around me, pulling me close and tight again, and presses a kiss against my temple. “Perfect,” he says, although I don’t think he’s referring to bowling. Or, indeed, any kind of game.

I hug him back with the silliest grin on my face, a grin so wide my facial muscles kinda hurt, because this moment, right now, is perfection.

“So, are we playing with your dogs tomorrow?” my son asks Kakashi, not missing a beat.

“Yes. Don’t be afraid of Buru, though. He may be the biggest and look scary, but on the inside he’s a gentle puppy with a heart of gold. Funnily enough, the grumpiest of the lot is Pakkun. That’s the pug you met today. Despite being the youngest, he often behaves like a grouchy old man.”

“My Kakashi?”

His pulse flutters, but he turns to me. “Yes, my Iruka?”

Mine follows suit, but we’re still in a bowling alley and Naruto is right here. I squeeze him instead. “How many dogs do you have? I’ve been meaning to ask you but we seem to always get distracted by each other.”

“Eight.”

A beat. Another. I wait to hear the punchline, but there’s no punchline. After a few seconds of silence it dawns on me that he’s serious. Oh. Oh, wow. When he said dog lover he really meant it, huh. I wonder how that happened.

“How did you end up with eight dogs?” I hear myself ask, and he shrugs.

“It simply happened? There’s a local shelter near me, almost every time I visit there’s some unfortunate dog with big pleading eyes that pierce straight through my soul. I can’t resist taking them back home with me. The poor things are all rescues, you see.”

Something clicks at the back of my mind, something that Izumo and Kotetsu mentioned earlier today. “Would that shelter happen to have a vet named Inuzuka Hana by any chance?”

“Ah, you’ve heard of it,” Kakashi says, satisfied. “Yes, that’s the one. I get a discount on their highest quality dogfood too, since I buy it in bulk. Same goes for their dog toys and my pet insurances. Hana is such a good vet, my entire pack loves her. Every time we visit all they want to do is roll on the floor and show her their bellies or tug at her sleeves to play.”

“You are the saint who adopted eight of their dogs?!?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a saint,” my boyfriend says, mystified, as if this is a foreign concept to him when I’m almost blinded by the metaphorical halo hovering over his head. “But I do love dogs and I want to help. The poor things are so lonely in the shelter, it breaks my heart to hear them cry, begging to be taken to a forever home. Have you ever heard a puppy cry?”

Holy Kami, marry me. Marry me now.

If I was holding him tight before, I squeeze the life out of him now. My arms wind around him so tight, his breath rushes out of his lungs.

“Mmmph!”

“Let me promise you this,” I tell him, voice low, pouring my everything into every single word: “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go.”

“Please don’t,” Kakashi says, returning my squeeze, but I don’t think he realises what I’m saying.

“I mean it,” I rumble. “I’m going to protect you, because you’re truly a fucking saint and a treasure and you don’t even see it. Now that you’re with me, you’re not getting hurt again. I’m not letting you get hurt again, I don’t care what it takes. You’re going to be cherished, and loved, and fucking worshipped the way you deserve. By me.”

“My Iruka,” he breathes, and this time it’s a plea. His heart thuds in his chest, beating wildly against mine, but it’s all right. It’s all right because I’ve got him.

“Shh.” I press a soft kiss on his temple, because of my son. “It’s all right. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, my Kakashi. You’re safe. Yes? You’re safe. With me.”

He kisses my temple in turn, then buries his face in the crook of my neck. “And I’ll do my best for you, my Iruka. Because you’re also safe, with me.”

And I know it, deep in my heart, that he’s right. We’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, because we’ve finally found each other. As we were meant to, from the start.

Chapter Text

~~~A few months later~~~

“One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three.. And done! Thank you so much everyone, you did great today. See you next week!”

My class dissolves, my students shuffling to pick up their things and leave while the waltz on loop still continues in the background. My hands brace my waist from both sides as I give my back a good stretch, content with another day’s work.

Ever since my husband’s magical pressure point treatment, my recovery has been nothing short of miraculous, to the point where there’s a good chance I could return to professional dancing if I wanted. But I don’t. Not anymore. Not since I now have him. My life has never been happier and I wouldn’t return to my previous schedule of daily body-breaking training and frequent national dancing tournaments for the world.

While my students let themselves out, someone else lets himself in. I spot his gravity-defying silver hair first, then the rest of him when he steps forward. He’s carrying a bag of takeaway bowls in his hand, the mouth-watering smell of my favourite food in the world reaching me all the way from my studio’s entrance.

“Angel!” My mouth breaks to a grin so wide it splits my face in two. Meanwhile, my heart accelerates to that pleasant canter it experiences whenever I’m near him. My angel and my universe. My husband.

“My love,” he counters, gaze warm, but he barely has time to lay the bag on the floor before I launch myself at him, squealing with delight. He catches me in mid-air, his strong arms enveloping me in a secure embrace, and gives me a spin while I laugh, a genuine laughter from the bottom of my soul.

My life is brighter around him. Saturated with vibrant colour and fuzzy emotions. Filled with light and laughter and joy. So much joy, I didn’t think it was possible for one person to feel, and yet I overflow with it every single day in my husband’s presence. I feel this way now, too, as he spins me around and we laugh together in bliss, the two of us completely lost in each other.

I make sure all my students have left before reaching out and pulling his mask down for a kiss. Our lips meet, warm and supple, eager from the start, and I lose myself in the taste of him. The taste of him and his love for me, which I can sense in everything he does, his kiss included. He tastes like nectar. Sweeter than the richest honey. Headier than the strongest wine. Better than ambrosia, the food of the gods themselves. And he’s mine. All mine.

My angelic husband gives me another spin before he puts me down, his eyes dancing with delight. “I should surprise you with lunch more often,” he says, grinning.

“Because we don’t always welcome each other like we’ve been parted for years?” I tease him, nuzzling his nose. Because what I’m saying is only the truth, and we both know it. “I’m not complaining, however. I haven’t had Ichiraku ramen in.. a week?”

My husband laughs, a rich, throaty laugh that makes me tingle all over. My toes curling, I snuggle better against him. “This must be a record for you,” he says, throwing me a wink. “Time to rectify it, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm,” I hum with agreement. “I couldn’t agree more. Never get out of my head, love.”

I grab him by the hand and verify that my studio door is closed and auto-locked before I pick up the food. My husband may be comfortable with our family seeing his face, but he’s not ready to show it to the outside world. And maybe he never will; that’s also all right. I will always support him. No matter what he thinks about himself however, he’s literally breathtaking to me, and I make sure to remind him so every single day of our life together. Because it’s the truth and he deserves it. Because he deserves the world.

“So, angel, what’s the occasion?” I ask, leading us towards the chairs closest to us so that we can settle down and enjoy our surprise lunch. My fingers try to reach one of the pairs of disposable chopsticks in the bag, but I only have eyes for him.

“Before we dig in, I also have something else for you. Only this small token, because you keep insisting on it,” he says, reaching inside his jacket. What he takes out is a long-stemmed rose, the deep red so rich it looks like it’s bleeding.

“Oh shit,” I say, wanting to check a calendar but knowing he must be right. “I thought it was tomorrow, I didn’t..”

He hushes me with the rose. Its petals brush against my lips, soft like velvet, but not as soft as my husband’s mouth. My eyelids flutter, closing. I want to kiss him again, so I do. The flower rustles between us, gently crushed by our chins as I angle my face and our lips meet anew, sweet like the first time.

Kami, he takes my breath away. His kiss is magic; profound and irresistible, with the mystical ability of making the rest of the world fade in the background, leaving only him and me, together. My hold on the bag loosens, but by some miracle I manage to lay it on the nearby chair instead of dropping everything on the floor and I wind my arms around my husband, pulling him in my embrace.

“Happy anniversary, my love. You can get me a similar rose later if you like,” my angel says softly when we part. “I know it’s a bit crazy of me to want to celebrate every month instead of every year, but thank you for bearing with me. Besides, I always get you the same thing, are you sure you don’t want something bigger or more expensive?”

My hand curls over his, pulling him closer. Not that there’s anywhere closer for him to go. He follows, or tries to, as if led by gravity. All he manages is to press himself harder against me, eliminating the few errant air particles between us, and I pluck the rose from his fingers to also place it on the nearby chair.

“The only thing I want is you, angel,” I say, and it’s the simple truth. “And since I have you, what better way to celebrate each month of our marital bliss than with the terrible stereotype from our wedding dance? As for something bigger or more expensive.. you know I don’t care about anything like that. At the end of the day, it’s the gesture that matters, isn’t it?”

He knows I’m teasing him regarding the terrible stereotype because I didn’t mind it. I didn’t mind it at all.

A framed photo of our wedding tango hangs proudly under the clock on the wall, in artistic black and white barring the vivid oversaturated red of the rose. That photo is the best kind of promotion for my dance academy, actually. When a new student steps inside my studio, the moment they lay eyes on it they declare that they want to learn to dance like that. And when they’re no longer new, they still use it as motivation.

We also have a bigger version of the same photo in our living room, over our sofa. My husband wanted to spam it on every single vertical surface throughout the rest of our estate as well, but in the end I was able to convince him otherwise. Although future photos may not be so lucky. He’s even thinking of picking up photography as a hobby, with the caveat that the only thing he’s interested in capturing with his lens is our happy family life.

But speaking of our wedding tango.. How my husband managed to hold that stem between his teeth while still wearing an impeccable clothed mask is something I still wonder, but he somehow did.

..And what a dance it was. A dance for the ages.

Izumo literally fainted halfway through; fortunately it was nothing serious and Kotetsu cuddled him for the rest of the night to make him feel better. Gai went bright red, then declared that unless he finds someone to love him the same way I love his best friend and eternal rival, he’s never getting married. Despite having hidden near the pool with his best friend and his boyfriend, our poor son was somehow traumatised again, but after we promised to make it up to him with ramen he swiftly recovered.

Meanwhile, when our dance ended, my husband and I.. had to take a quick private break before we could rejoin everyone else under our wedding marquee. Our ties were slightly skewed and our shirts rumpled when we returned, not to mention the utter ruin that was our hair, but no one remarked on it.

“I happen to know you like terrible stereotypes,” my husband teases me back, nuzzling me with his nose.

“So do you, my corny angel. Which means..” A kiss, slow and sweet, like him. “We’re a match..” Another, tender and lingering. “Made in heaven..” And another, with such emotion that it makes my toes curl all over again. “Really…”

By now I’m somewhat lightheaded and breathless, but it’s worth it. He’s worth it.

His eyes are hooded when we part, his good pupil blown wide. “My Kami-sama,” he whispers. “You’ve breathed life into me, you know that?”

“You breathed life into me, but I won’t fight you over it,” I counter, sealing the statement with a kiss. “Where’s our son?”

“Doing homework,” my husband deadpans and the snort that escapes me is so violent it almost makes me choke on my saliva. “His boyfriend is helping him,” he adds, and my half-choke evolves to full-blown laughter.

“You sweet summer child, you actually believe that–”

“Shikamaru is also there.”

Ah. That would do it. My laughter dies out, although a smile lingers on my lips. My fingers stroke my husband’s face, his shoulders, everywhere they can reach. They can never get enough of him. Neither can I.

“All right, angel,” I say softly. “Before we enjoy our lunch, would you like to dance with me?”

The waltz still loops in the background. The first dance we ever shared. The meaning isn’t lost on my husband. He takes my left hand in his right, his left resting on my shoulder.

“Only if you lead this time, my love,” he says. “Because wherever you go, I will always follow.”

Together, we move as one.

I’ve taught him well. His martial arts helped, but under my guidance he has become such a good dancer he could turn professional himself if he wanted. But he doesn’t. Because all he craves is to be with us. His family. My immeasurable treasure of a man. My precious angel. My husband.

“I truly don’t deserve you, but I’m not letting you go,” I say. He laughs, that precious laughter of his that feels like a blessing and turns the whole world brighter, but I’m not joking. “I mean it,” I insist, moving with the music.

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go either.” His entire face is alight with happiness. “Only you can make me live,” he adds, guiding us to a spin.

Oh, angel. You’re safe with me. You’re always safe with me.

“Let me make you fly, angel, the way you deserve,” I say, but my husband shakes his head.

“Let’s fly together, my love,” he counters, and we do.

We waltz on our own cloud, made of happiness and laughter and all the love in the world. And it’s perfect. Like every day we spend together.