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Chapter Text

ACT 1 | Keep it Quiet

Iruka sighed into the silence of his classroom.

He leaned back in his chair behind the teacher’s desk and stretched his arms over his head before taking in his surroundings. The low sun of a late afternoon painted the empty desks and chairs in warm light as an April day slowly settled into evening. Iruka looked out the window and observed absentmindedly as the last cherry blossom petals of the year danced past the classroom on a lazy breeze. The school grounds were largely deserted this time of day. It was a peaceful sight. One that Iruka felt that he’d earned.

His current class was a bit tiresome. It seemed that just when he got some of his troublemakers to settle down and pay attention, new ones decided to cause problems. At least there were some very diligent and quiet kids to balance out the hellions. And it wasn’t as if they weren’t all growing on him, whether they were pulling silly pranks or not. After all, he’d taught far more notorious pranksters in the past. The thought made him smile.

Iruka turned his attention back to his desk and the documents on top of it – he had been working on a lesson plan – and decided to pack up for the day. April meant new lesson plans, but somehow they hadn’t been coming as easily to him as they usually did. Perhaps Naruto’s recent wedding and thoughts of maybe becoming vice principal had thrown him off. He grabbed his teaching bag and put the documents and folders inside. He looked over the student roster, making mental notes of whom to focus on more the next week before packing it up with everything else.

Iruka figured that one of the most important parts of his job was supporting everyone’s potential and providing everyone with as much help as they needed. The shinobi world was at peace and the village was slowly evolving into something new and different. This gave kids the time to grow and learn at a more humane pace. They could actually have a childhood. Even though Iruka was still preparing them to become soldiers.

He closed the windows and the door and locked up the room before turning to leave. The Academy hallways were just as empty as his classroom had been. Iruka’s steps seemed to almost echo in the space. It was Friday and teachers and students had abandoned the premises to dive into their weekend. Iruka made his way to the teacher’s lounge just in case anyone remained but found the door already locked. Satisfied that everyone else had left before him, he headed to the Academy’s entrance.

Iruka pondered his nonexistent evening plans. He had no prior engagements with friends and there was no shift at the Mission Desk lined up for him. After the week he’d had, he was relieved to be free of terribly written mission reports for the day. Yet, part of him was sad that he didn’t have a reason to go the Hokage Tower. He supposed he could always show up regardless, there was no shortage of administrative work to be done, after all. But there were reasons not to and he knew those by heart.

He shook his head to dismiss a silly fantasy about dropping by and paying someone a visit before it had a chance to take root. Though the equally silly smile it had put on his face refused to leave. Iruka reached the doors and left the building. After locking up, he turned and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. Oh well, going home was going to be good, too. He was going to heat up some leftovers from the fridge and enjoy some time on his couch. Perhaps with one of the books he never got around to reading. Or one of his projects that he hadn’t worked on in forever.

His thoughts about a lazy evening on the couch were brought to an abrupt stop. Someone was waiting for him by the open gate.

“Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka’s smile widened. Naruto waiting for him with a big grin and bright eyes and waving as if there had been any chance that Iruka could have missed him. Iruka hurried to cross the yard.

“Naruto! I didn’t realize you were back!”

“That’s okay, I got back today! Another A-rank completed, y’know!” He beamed at Iruka and gave him a big thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t at the Desk to welcome you home,” Iruka said regretfully.

“No worries. I reported directly to Kakashi-sensei, anyway.”

Iruka could only imagine what Naruto’s oral reports were like. He got enough of a taste of them whenever Naruto told him about the missions he’d been on over dinner. Iruka wondered how often that was going to happen going forward. This had been Naruto’s first mission since his wedding and honeymoon with Hinata. “Well, then, let me thank you for your hard work, at least.”

“Sure!” Naruto clasped his hands together behind his head, elbows pointing outward. “So! I thought since I’m back and all we could go get ramen to celebrate?”

Iruka tilted his head. “Not that I don’t want to, but wouldn’t you rather be spending your first dinner after your mission with Hinata-chan?” He gave Naruto a stern look. “You better not be neglecting her. She probably missed you a lot.”

“No, that’s okay,” Naruto assured him. “We had lunch together. And she said it was alright. Besides! You’re my family, too, y’know! And I can’t go neglecting family just because I have more of it now.”

Iruka’s frown melted away immediately. He was touched by Naruto’s words. “Alright, then. I’m not going to say no to ramen with my favorite troublemaker.”

Naruto’s smile could have lit up the whole village. “Alright! Let’s go!”

Iruka huffed in amusement and followed Naruto to Ichiraku’s.

-

“I think Naruto is trying to set me up with someone.”

“Huh?”

Kakashi looked up from his book. He was lying in his usual spot on Iruka’s living room floor, cushioned on his favorite pillow right next to the chabudai. His head was propped up on an arm behind his head and he had his book angled for optimal lighting from the ceiling lamp.

Iruka’s apartment was a cozy place. Full of warm light and personal touches. The furniture was simple, but it held books and trinkets and photos and gifts. The pillows were mismatched and there were scratches and dents in the wood, each with a little story or mishap that had created it. One corner of the chabudai was covered in different Academy-related papers that only ever disappeared when Iruka expected non-Kakashi guests. There were the books with cracked spines that Iruka referenced often and those that sat pristine and untouched. One shelf contained a flower pot without a flower, the coffin of a houseplant that had died months ago in spite of Iruka’s best efforts.

There were faces captured in photos. Some familiar to Kakashi, others not, all of them smiling. Next to them sat art pieces, proudly created by the small hands of Academy students. There also sat a little charm, a token Kakashi had brought Iruka once. The curtains were drawn to contain and protect this little piece of heaven. It was cozy. Quiet, familiar, safe. The best way to spend an otherwise cold April night. Well- maybe not the best way, but the night was still young.

Iruka’s statement had roused Kakashi from his cozy reading time. He looked into the kitchen through the open door. There was rustling followed by the sound of a cupboard door being shut. Then footsteps.

“What?” Kakashi added when no explanation followed on its own.

“I think,” Iruka elaborated as he emerged from the kitchen, “that Naruto tried to set me up with someone. On a date.” His flak jacket and forehead protector were long gone and he was fiddling with a bag of rice crackers. His brows knit together as the bag resisted his efforts and Iruka looked at it as if he could get it to open with a single glare. Kakashi honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if it had worked.

“What?” Kakashi repeated, genius that he was. He sat up at the chabudai. “Why?”

“I don’t know why,” Iruka replied without looking at him. He sat down at the table. “But in hindsight, it might not have been the first time.”

“What did he do?” Kakashi put his book down on the table. He could wait to find out whether the heroine of the book was going to succumb to the roguish charms of the hero.

“He introduced me to someone over ramen today. Not that I knew about that before. He asked me to get ramen for dinner together. He seemed a bit off on the way there, but he came back from an A-rank today so I didn’t pay it too much mind. But when we got there, he introduced me to this woman that, according to him, ‘just so happened to be there’ and ‘also likes ramen’ which Naruto insisted was a ‘crazy coincidence’ since I also like ramen.”

“A ramen fan at Ichiraku’s. Crazy,” Kakashi agreed, amused.

Iruka continued to fumble with the bag. It continued to not open which made Kakashi want to step in and help, but he knew better than to try. “He told me all about how nice and smart she is,” Iruka continued. “She’s a medic-nin, apparently. She works at the hospital with Sakura-chan. But she is, of course, way older than Sakura-chan. But not that old or anything. Naruto’s words.” The bag mercifully opened.

“Naruto does have a way with words,” Kakashi mused. It wasn’t even a false statement, per se. It just didn’t apply to matchmaking attempts, apparently.

Iruka chuckled. “Some kind of way, sure.” He dumped the rice crackers into a waiting bowl. “He actually may have too much of a way with words. The poor girl hardly got a word in edgewise for the whole duration of our, er, dinner.”

“Maybe she’s just shy. I could see someone turning shy in your presence.”

Iruka raised his eyebrow at him with a smile. “Could you now? Well, I don’t know about her. She looked a bit spooked. I honestly don’t know whether Naruto told her anything in advance or whether it was just an ambush all around.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if it was.” Kakashi rested his elbows on the table as he crossed his arms.

“Me neither. She seemed like a nice person, at least. From the five or so words she got past Naruto.” Iruka popped a rice cracker into his mouth.

Kakashi hummed. “She sounds like quite the candidate. So, is a second date in the cards, you think?”

Iruka gave Kakashi a sidelong glance. “Oh, I don’t know. That might be difficult.” His eyes twinkled.

“How come?”

Iruka looked at him intently as he ate another rice cracker slowly. He swallowed. “Well, Kakashi-san. A second date commonly leads to a third. And by then someone might reasonably expect to be invited inside. And I don’t know if she would appreciate my current living situation.”

“That bad, huh.”

“Horrible!” Iruka shook his head. “There’s this guy- I think people call him the ‘Hokage’. And he just keeps coming around and inviting himself in at the oddest hours before making himself at home like he owns the place.”

“Mmmh, sounds troublesome.”

“Oh, he’s the worst.” Iruka nodded sagely. “He doesn’t pay rent, even though I’m convinced he spends more nights at my place than the does at his own. He even uses some of my drawers for storage, the bastard.”

“I can’t believe someone like that hasn’t offered to pay rent, yet,” Kakashi teased. “Why don’t you kick him to the curb? Sounds like he’s a nuisance and keeps you from bringing nice kunoichi around.”

Iruka regarded him for a long moment. A thrill shot through Kakashi’s body when he spotted a familiar glint in Iruka’s eyes. Iruka then made his way around the table on all fours, decreasing the distance between them. “Well,” he said in a low voice. “That’s the most troublesome thing about him, really.”

Kakashi’s heart sped up as Iruka began to invade his space. “What is?”

“He’s such a piece of work. And yet,” Iruka said as he stared at him, locking their gazes together in an unbreakable bind. “I just can’t stay away from him. He’s been coming around like that for a while, you see, and I think I’ve grown rather fond of him.”

“Ah, that is pretty troublesome,” Kakashi agreed. He couldn’t look away and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. They were so close, Kakashi could see the details in Iruka’s irises, could have counted each eyelash if he had wanted to. Kakashi took Iruka’s hand and gently guided it to the edge of his mask, asking silently to be made vulnerable.

Iruka complied, hooking his finger into the fabric before pulling it down slowly to pool around Kakashi’s neck. “So troublesome,” Iruka whispered. He closed the distance between their lips.

Kakashi’s eyes fell shut at the warm sensation. Something melted inside of him. He brushed Iruka’s sides with his hands and wrapped his arms around him. The kiss was soft and sweet. The feeling of it familiar and trusted, yet it opened something up in Kakashi’s chest that only Iruka had the key to. Kissing him was akin to a spiritual revelation. Each and every time.

Umino Iruka was Kakashi’s biggest weakness. Kakashi was trained to control his physical responses, he was a master of his own body, reflexes and all. But as they kissed, his heart did things in his chest, his body temperature rose without his permission and tension that his muscles had been clinging to seeped away into nothing. Kakashi felt elated. He wanted to tuck Iruka away someplace to keep him safe and keep all this to himself. Because if there was ever another soul who made this discovery, they were sure to get addicted as well.

The kiss ended and gave way to another and another. Kakashi pulled Iruka closer, willing every bit of space between them to disappear and be replaced with heat. But just as Kakashi’s fingers found the hem of Iruka’s shirt, Iruka pulled away.

“We’re getting carried away,” Iruka assessed. He leaned back, smiling and flushed and gorgeous.

“Away from what?” Kakashi asked. He was still very focused on the way Iruka’s lips looked right then and thinking that he really ought to be feeling them against his own again.

“From talking.” Iruka huffed, but he didn’t sound convincingly upset. “We’ve barely talked at all since you got here.”

But talking wasn’t kissing and Kakashi had very much enjoyed the kissing. His gaze slipped over to the clock on the wall and he noted how late it was and he remembered how, a few weeks ago, Iruka had made the absolutely correct observation that they mostly used the hours that they stole for themselves to do other things than talk. Things that commonly tended to involve mouths but typically not that many words. Iruka was right, of course, to want more conversations. And Kakashi did love to talk to him. But Iruka was a magnet and Kakashi was forever drawn in by him and it was difficult not to get lost in that sometimes. He cleared his throat. “If memory serves, you were the one to put a stop to the talking today.”

Iruka flushed, indignant. Cute. “Be that as it may. You haven’t told me anything about your day. Was it good? Did anything happen?”

Kakashi leaned against table. “There’s not much to tell. I signed things. I met people. The stacks of paperwork continue to grow in spite of my best efforts. Shikamaru only said ‘what a drag’ twice, so there’s that. Probably because he’s looking forward to being off work this weekend.”

“Is he going to meet Temari-san again?”

“Not in an official capacity, so I don’t know. But most definitely, yes.” Kakashi eyed Iruka. “Your day sounds far more interesting than mine.”

“Does it? Just another day of teaching little delinquents. There’s the one student who’s gotten into telling scary stories lately and it’s getting to be a bit much.”

“As much as I love your Academy stories – and I do – what I find most interesting is that you are apparently in the market for a girlfriend. Should I be concerned?”

Iruka scoffed. “I’d say ‘no’, but Naruto can be pretty relentless. And convincing.”

Kakashi chuckled. Naruto being convincing was no secret, it had technically saved the world. But there were some thing that not even Naruto’s words could move. “You said this wasn’t his first attempt to get you a relationship?”

Iruka pulled over the bowl of rice crackers. He picked up one to fidget with. “I think so. A couple of days ago, he brought someone to the Academy. A single mother. He said she was considering enrolling her daughter next year. That’s not unusual, parents often want to talk before enrolling their kids in the Ninja Academy. Especially single ones and civilians.” He hesitated. “In hindsight, it should have been obvious that that wasn’t her reason for being there, though. She asked a lot of personal questions. Or questions about my specific teaching methods and my skills and, well, me in general.”

Kakashi snorted. “Well, I do agree with her: You are very interesting.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” Iruka pointed the cracker at him accusingly. “She’s hardly the first single mom to get ideas.”

“Maa, that’s a given. I’m pretty sure single parents have started a support group for being rejected by you.”

Iruka couldn’t keep his stern face at that and shoved the rice cracker into his mouth to cover up the smile. Cute. “I don’t know what Naruto was thinking. I would never date a student’s parent. Can you imagine?”

“Apparently, he thinks you like parents and medic-nin.”

“Among others…”

“There were more?” Kakashi asked, instantly curious. Perhaps he was a bad person for finding all of this terribly hilarious, but he had made light of far worse things in the past so if something was going to be a deciding factor for the merit of his character, it probably wasn’t going to be this.

“Shortly after he came back from his honeymoon, Naruto introduced me to someone while I was buying some school supplies. He suggested I check out her materials. To be fair, she does do very good educational illustrations of weaponry. Especially for a civilian.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise. “Naruto tried to set you up with a civilian?” Shinobi-civilian unions were rare. Not unheard of, but rare. Different lifestyles, different expectations from life in general, different priorities – relationships like that got very complicated very fast. Not that Kakashi was one to judge. After all, no one even knew that he was in a relationship at the moment.

Iruka shrugged. “I don’t think it’s so outlandish for me. I’m almost always in the village and I have a comparatively low-stakes job. She honestly didn’t even seem to care about me being a shinobi. She wasn’t uneasy from what I could tell. Or, you know, weirdly excited about it. In some way, her and me would have been no more outlandish than, well, you and me. At least in Naruto’s eyes.”

Kakashi nodded. He looked at the top of the chabudai. Iruka was right. To Naruto, to anyone, Iruka dating a civilian would have been far more likely than the reality. Kakashi teased him about the situation – because it was, objectively, at least a little bit funny – but there was something bitter about it, too. There was an alternative there, a split reality, where Iruka was happily dating one of Naruto’s suggestions. And the image tugged uncomfortably at Kakashi’s heart, even if he didn’t think that it was going to become real. He leaned against Iruka so that his head could rest on a strong shoulder. “Your standards must be very high to be rejecting so many different people so easily.”

Iruka leaned back against him. “You should know, Rokudaime-sama. I only date Hokage and above.”

Kakashi buried his face in Iruka’s shoulder and smirked. “I didn’t know I had something to fear from the daimyō of all people.”

Iruka laughed. Cute! “I assure you, you have nothing to fear from anyone at all, dear.”

It was unfair, really, how a single word could light up Kakashi’s face with embarrassment. At least when it was spoken so sweetly and genuinely by Iruka. “Good,” he muttered, still hiding from Iruka’s gaze. For a minute they just remained like that, leaning against each other, sharing mutual warmth and support. “It seems that Naruto has given himself a mission, then,” Kakashi said eventually. “One all about you.”

Iruka groaned. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Especially accompanying me like that. How embarrassing.”

“Well, from his perspective you’ve failed to seal the deal yourself twice. Must have given him incentive to chaperone,” Kakashi theorized as he sat up a little straighter to look at Iruka again.

“That feels so backwards.” Iruka grimaced. “I never chaperoned him and Hinata-chan.”

“And Hinata-chan thanks you for it, I’m sure.”

Iruka shook his head. “I can’t believe he thinks I’m a lost cause.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad. He probably just thinks that he is an expert now. Bestowing you with his wisdom.”

Iruka looked at him curiously. “How do you mean?”

“Well, he only recently came back from his honeymoon.” Kakashi shrugged. “Maybe being the first in his friend group to get married has gone to his head and made him think he’s got the right, maybe even the responsibility, to help you out.”

Iruka’s face did something complicated. “That makes sense. I guess.”

Kakashi nodded. “He’s happily married and returns from his honeymoon in all his newlywed bliss to see his poor dear sensei, one of his most precious people in the whole world, not making a match for himself. And, being Naruto, he wants to share his newly discovered joy of a committed relationship. So he takes it upon himself to help you out. But he knows you’re stubborn and would refuse if he offered his help outright. So he pretends that he just happens to run into suitable women every other day.”

“Women he thinks are suitable,” Iruka corrected.

“Yes. That.”

Iruka’s brows knit together in contemplation. Cute. “Well, I can hardly judge him for trying. It is sweet that he cares.”

“I suppose so.” It was sweet, in a way. Nevermind the fact that Naruto had been completely oblivious to Hinata’s pining for years. Or that it was Hinata who found the bravery to confess and move the relationship forward into something that could ever become a marriage. But then again, Kakashi probably shouldn’t have judged. “Since you won’t be accepting his help, are you going to ask him to stop trying?”

“Actually, I really hope he got the hint this time. If he didn’t, I suppose I have no choice but to say something.”

Kakashi understood Iruka’s reluctance. Lying to Naruto was difficult for him. So far, they’d mostly survived together on misdirection and omissions when it came to Naruto. It was different for Iruka to go to Naruto and lie to his face. “I’m sorry,” Kakashi said in reaction to the thought.

“What, did you put him up to this?”

“No. I’m sorry that… it’s like this,” Kakashi said, troubled by the fact that this, that they, were a secret. And needed to stay that way.

Iruka’s gaze became soft. “We’ve talked about this, Kakashi. It would be wonderful if we could just tell him. And everyone. But it’s not an option. And that’s alright. I want you. I want this. Don’t apologize to me for what I want.”

Kakashi enveloped Iruka in his arms to pull him close. He buried his face in the crook of Iruka’s neck. “Let me know if it ever stops being alright?”

“Have you ever known me to shut up about something that bothers me?” Iruka teased. “What about you? Does it bother you that your student is trying to find me a girlfriend?”

Kakashi huffed. “It might. But you did say that your standards were ‘Hokage and above’ so…”

“You’re impossible.”

Kakashi leaned back to smile at him. “And, apparently, you like that.”

“Then it’s all good, right?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi hesitated. “I suppose it is.”

“Great! Now can we talk about anything that doesn’t involve me dating other people?”

“We can talk about anything you want. Or,” Kakashi said suggestively as he started to trail his fingertips down Iruka’s sides, “we could stop talking now, if that’s what you want. That would be okay for me, too.”

“’Okay’, huh.” Iruka mused with a dangerous tone of voice. “I think we can do better than ‘okay’.”

Kakashi swallowed. “Yes, please.”

Chapter Text

In the past...

It started like this:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t prepared to be wrong, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mortifying. Iruka headed straight toward the register.

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

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

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

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

“Will this cover it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I will! I mean, I would!”

“Then there’s no problem, right?”

“Why would you do this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kakashi hummed. “Goodnight, Iruka-sensei.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kakashi’s eyebrow rose in surprise.

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

“Sure, if you’ve got something.”

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

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

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

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

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Chapter Text

Present day

Kakashi tapped a pen against his chin before making a note on the huge map of Konoha that he had pinned on the wall.

It was morning and light was pouring into the Hokage’s office through the windows. The air smelled faintly of coffee and it was quiet. There were several people in the tower, from administrative staff going about their duties to Kakashi’s ANBU guards lurking in the vicinity, but no one had bothered him so far that day, allowing him to focus on his work.

The map was a little outdated which was owed to Konoha’s unprecedented rate of growth. In order for Kakashi to always work with up-to-date maps he would have had to commission a cartographer every other week. Not that there wasn’t a new map currently in the works. Kakashi was pretty sure that he’d already broken some kind of record for most village maps commissioned by a Hokage during their tenure.

But growth was a good thing. He just had to remind himself of that whenever he became acutely aware that a village’s growth also needed to be supported by things like infrastructure and security measures. And when it also meant more people living under the Hokage’s protection. Which was him. The Hokage.

Kakashi wasn’t new to the job, anymore. But sometimes, he still felt uneasy about his title. He had never aspired to it unlike several people he had known throughout his life and he still wasn’t sure whether he was as good for it as any of them had been or would have been. A Hokage was someone like his sensei, strong and kind and full of light and hope. Or someone like Sandaime with his infinite wisdom and experience. Or like Tsunade who protected and healed and was fierce in her decisions. Kakashi was a bit of an outlier. Which meant he had to make sure that he wasn’t letting the people down.

Kakashi made another note on the map about a group of buildings that weren’t depicted before drawing a circle around an area he wanted to focus on in terms of safety measures. He was going to need some information to plan further. He made his way over to his desk and grimaced at the paper nightmare that sat on top of it. People called him a genius but apparently some filing systems were beyond his horizons. He pushed through the frustration and started searching for the correct file when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Kakashi called out, his back still facing the door. “You’re right on time, Shikamaru-kun. I was just looking for-“

“Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi turned around to find unexpected bright blue eyes looking at him expectantly from the doorway. “Oh. Naruto. Sorry, I thought you were Shikamaru-kun.” He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. His former student looked particularly antsy that morning. “What do you need?”

Naruto’s presence brought a certain conversation that Kakashi had had with Iruka a few days ago back to mind. Which made Kakashi extra curious about this unexpected visit. Naruto pressed his lips together and gave Kakashi a very serious look which Kakashi always thought looked a little like he was about to blurt out something he wasn’t supposed to say. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Hm? A favor?” Already, this conversation was taking a strange turn.

“Can you please postpone my mission?” Naruto asked and immediately bowed, much to Kakashi’s dismay. Naruto was one of the only people who resolutely did not show Kakashi the respect that his position technically demanded and Kakashi absolutely preferred it that way.

This whole situation was odd, not to mention unprecedented. Naruto had never asked not to go on a highly ranked mission. Just two months or so ago, he’d been upset when Kakashi had so much as suggested a B-rank to him. But whatever the case, Naruto’s request was strange for another reason. “You don’t-“

“I know you wanted to send me out today,” Naruto hurried to add, “but I absolutely need to be in the village for a few more days. I can even find a replacement!”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “Naruto-“

“Please, Kakashi-sensei!”

“I think you misunderstood-“

“I will do anything. I will take the worst missions for a month. Two months. I’ll take one in the Land of Swamps and I won’t even complain!” Naruto begged.

Tempting. “Naruto. You don’t have a mission today.”

Naruto fell silent. He kept bowing but tilted his head to look up at Kakashi. “Huh?”

“I told you to be ready next week. When Sai should be back.” Kakashi sighed. “Seriously, I gave you a heads-up so you can plan around it and you don’t even remember when you’re going?”

Naruto stood up straight. “So I’m free this week?”

“You’re welcome to pick something up at the Desk like everyone else, but I don’t have anything scheduled for you. And I need you to be back and ready by next week.”

“Oh!” Naruto laughed and scratched the back of his head. “What a relief, y’know!”

Kakashi smiled a little despite himself. Naruto had grown up so much, it was nice to see that some things never changed. “Why did you want to back out of it, anyway? It’s not like you to say no to an A-rank.”

“I can’t tell you! It’s top secret!” Naruto announced with a grin. When he saw Kakashi’s raised eyebrow he continued, “I’m working on something. And it’s very important. But it’s also very important that nobody knows, y’know?”

Kakashi hummed. He had a well-informed hunch about what Naruto was going to be working on this week. And he felt some dread on Iruka’s behalf for whatever it was. Especially seeing as it apparently required actual planning in advance. Kakashi couldn’t help but feel guilty about that. If Naruto had known that Iruka was taken, he wouldn’t have been doing any of this.

“I hope it’s nothing too destructive,” Kakashi quipped.

“No, nothing like that,” Naruto replied.

Kakashi wanted to pry to find out more. Or maybe to help Iruka out by asking Naruto to speak to him about his intentions directly to save everyone the ill-advised matchmaking attempts. But he couldn’t. After all, Kakashi wasn’t even supposed to know anything about this. To Naruto, Kakashi and Iruka were probably friendly acquaintances or maybe casual friends at best. “Whatever it is, try not to go overboard.”

“Aye-aye!” Naruto made an exaggerated salute. “Thanks, Kakashi-sensei!”

“I didn’t do- He’s gone.” Kakashi watched the door fall shut. He shook his head and pushed away from the desk. This didn’t bode well. He felt the strong urge to go and do something about it. Perhaps by just ordering Naruto to stand down. But there was no space for him to get involved. All he could do was offer reassurance. Or perhaps, a warning.

Kakashi performed some hand signs and a shadow clone came into existence right beside him. He turned to his clone. “You know what to do. And be careful.”

“Maa, I know,” the clone drawled before opening one of the windows and leaping out. Kakashi watched it go for a moment before he heard another knock on his door and asked his new visitor inside.

Shikamaru entered the room. “Naruto just ran past me. He was all giddy. What was that about?”

“Nothing. Naruto is grateful that I’m not sending him on a nonexistence mission,” Kakashi replied easily before closing the window.

Shikamaru gave him a confused look as he shut the door behind himself.

“He got things mixed up. Anyway! Welcome back. I hope you had a nice little break.”

Shikamaru blushed a little and avoided looking at Kakashi. “It was alright.”

Kakashi nodded, resisting the urge to poke and prod at his flustered assistant. “Good! Well, you’re right on time. I think I’ve lost about fourteen different document pages in your absence and I could really use them.”

Shikamaru scoffed. Kakashi had learned that that particular scoff was something vaguely amused. Other scoffs by Shikamaru could be interpreted as other things, like annoyance or dismissal. “I don’t think even you could pull that off.” He eyed the large map on the wall. “What are you working on?”

“Emergency response planning,” Kakashi replied before walking over to stand beside Shikamaru to look at the map as well. “Konoha keeps growing and our security measures need to adapt. Our former emergency infrastructure can’t support the whole village anymore. In case of an attack or a natural disaster, there’s neighborhoods that could end up abandoned.” Kakashi gestured toward the areas he’d circled on the map.

Shikamaru examined them. “I thought we’d installed additional standby stations already?”

“Temporary ones, yes. But they’re not as well-equipped or as well-connected as I’d like them to be. I’m looking into emergency situations from the past to see what we can learn from them. We can go over it together later if you like.”

Shikamaru just nodded and the lack of an eyeroll or sigh told Kakashi that he found the task to be somewhat interesting. “Okay.”

Kakashi stared at one of the neighborhoods that didn’t have adequate protection. “We can hope we’ll never need it. But if we do, there can’t be a single person left behind.”

“Of course. That makes sense.”

“Great, because I need you to schedule an appointment with the city architect.” Kakashi smiled at him.

Shikamaru grimaced. “I’ll get it done.”

“If Shizune-san were still here, I’d ask her to do it, but since Tsunade-sama decided to snatch her away when she took off again…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Shikamaru said. “I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate that,” Kakashi said honestly before going back over to his desk. “As thrilled as I am to have you back, I doubt you came in just to say hello and stare at a map.” Kakashi eyed some folders in Shikamaru’s hand.

“Ah. Yeah, no. I have a couple of things that landed on my desk. We can go over them quickly.” Shikamaru approached.

“Alright. Hit me.”

Shikamaru dropped the first folder on the desk. Kakashi leaned over to open it. “The first matter is about the budgeting of the hospital. We’ve received a formal request about whether some additional funds could be allocated for the research wing. There’s some details in there about upcoming projects.”

“Everything always needs funds,” Kakashi muttered to himself. He skimmed the pages of the request to get a general idea of what he was working with. “Seems reasonable but their calculations are unrealistic. When you have time, have someone locate and bring over the budgeting records of the hospital since it’s been rebuilt. I’ll have to crunch some numbers on this.”

“Will do,” Shikamaru said. He didn’t take a note. He never had to.

“Thanks. What’s next?” Kakashi asked.

Shikamaru handed him a new folder. “There’s been complaints about a protester. People in the neighborhood are starting to have safety concerns and asking that something be done about it.”

Kakashi grimaced as he read through the list of complaints. “I thought we had that handled. I’ll dispatch some ANBU to take care of it. If there’s any further information, please prioritize this matter.”

“Okay.”

“Alright. Next,” Kakashi announced and closed the folder and Shikamaru gave him the next one.

“Some veterans want your approval to advertise their support group on the bulletin board. Not sure they needed to ask but they want it to go through the proper channels.”

“And I’m a proper channel for that?” Kakashi asked incredulously as he opened the third folder.

Shikamaru just shrugged.

Kakashi looked over the one page of information. It outlined a support group for war survivors. Honestly, Kakashi wondered why he hadn’t thought to establish this sooner. “Yes, of course they can advertise their group.”

“I’ll let them know.”

“I’m authorizing you to make the call next time someone wants to put up a flyer.” Kakashi closed the folder. “And the last thing?” Shikamaru put the last folder on his desk and Kakashi opened it. He narrowed his eyes. “The summer festival?”

“Yes.”

“… but it’s April.”

“Apparently, the organizers want to get an early start this year. More people than ever live in Konoha and they were thinking of making it a tourist attraction, too, if you’ll allow it.”

Kakashi drummed his fingers on the desk. It was these trivial matters that sometimes bothered him the most. Primarily because he had to remind himself that they weren’t trivial. Cultural events like festivals were important to people. Practicing traditions and having fun was vital to the beating heart of a village. After all, if there wasn’t laughter and joy in a community, why should it be protected? “Alright. I’ll get in contact with last year’s organizers and have them establish a committee. They can handle the rest.”

Shikamaru nodded. He took all four folders as Kakashi held them out to him and tucked them back under his arm. “Would you like some help locating those fourteen missing document pages before I go?”

Kakashi smiled serenely and propped his chin up with his hands. “You read my mind.”

-

Why was it always graffiti?

Iruka would have thought that the kids were going to come up with something new. There were so many things one could do to annoy their teachers or make a childish point. But no, it was graffiti that decorated the west-facing wall of the Academy building. Perhaps it was simply a timeless classic among pranksters everywhere. Or a stepping stone, a rite of passage, before moving on to greater things.

The artwork depicted crude renditions of some of the Academy instructors and a few other notable people that must have provoked the ire of the artists. They were cartoonish with unflattering exaggerations of their features. Each one had a speech bubble attached to it containing some kind of proclamation.

‘I’m boring and my scar is stupid,’ graffiti-Iruka declared boldly.

Real Iruka heard way worse at every other shift at the Mission Desk.

He had a few possible culprits in mind, namely the little delinquents in his class. One of them in particular, a kid named Hideo, was staring to be a bit of a popular troublemaker. He gained his stardom amongst his classmates by telling stories from his jōnin parents that he ‘totally got to go on, too’. Iruka knew better than to call him a liar in front of his peers so he instead told him to be quiet and stop disturbing class. Which could have easily landed him his coveted center spot in the mural. But he couldn’t be certain that that was the case. Not yet.

It was lunch time and in spite of the graffiti appearing overnight, Iruka hadn’t brought it up in class yet. He hoped that his silence was going to irritate the culprit or culprits. After all, the artist or artists likely wanted some kind of reaction. He was going to let them stew a little while longer before he began to actively pursue the matter. He had several ideas about how to capture the true perpetrators so that they could clean up their mess. His current strategy involved provoking them into a bolder move to catch them in the act. If that failed, he could escalate to plans involving seals and perhaps even some light genjutsu.

He had received the go-ahead from the other instructors to handle the situation. They knew his track record with pranksters and were glad to hand the matter off to someone else. For Iruka, catching the responsible kids was almost fun.

“Oh, they did not do you justice at all.”

Iruka startled and turned around. “Kakashi!...-sama.”

“Not in the flesh, I’m afraid,” Kakashi- no the shadow clone replied as he casually stood beside Iruka, gazing up at the mural.

Iruka forced himself not to stare. Kakashi rarely if ever approached him out in the open. Shadow clone or not. Iruka glanced around and focused on his surroundings, letting his senses – particularly his uncanny hearing – expand to detect anyone in the area. But no one was around them. Not that the Kakashi-clone would have approached him otherwise.

“I have some news from original me,” the clone said. It spoke in hushed tones. “Your biggest troublemaker is up to his usual tricks again. Only bigger this time.”

‘Biggest troublemaker’? That had to be Naruto. Iruka thought about what the clone could mean for a moment before the realization hit him. The dates. “I see. Any details?”

“Nothing in particular, but there’s planning involved. My original trusts that you’ll be able to handle it with a heads-up.”

Iruka hummed. “Must be worrisome, if the Hokage himself deemed it necessary to warn me,” he pondered out lout for the benefit of anyone, against all odds, listening in.

The clone shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it. Anyway, I’m done. Take care.” He turned to the wall. “You too, graffiti-Iruka-sensei.” He poofed out of existence, leaving Iruka alone with the unsettling implications of Naruto, self-proclaimed romance expert, planning something big for him.

Any hopes that the shadow clone had been wrong were dashed right after class had finished for the day and all the students had filtered out of the room. Iruka was just wiping down the blackboard, enjoying the sunlight of another spring afternoon when a familiar voice interrupted him.

“Did you know that there’s a huge version of you on the side of the school?” Naruto asked as he wandered in.

Iruka turned to face him with a smile designed to hide his apprehension. “Hello, Naruto. And yes, it didn’t escape my notice.”

Naruto crossed his arms. “Was it your students?”

“Almost certainly, yes. Somehow, I always get saddled with the biggest troublemakers,” Iruka mused. He put the sponge away as he gave Naruto a meaningful look.

Naruto laughed. “Maybe it’s in purpose. Maybe people know you have a soft spot for them, y’know?”

Iruka’s smile turned warm and affectionate. “Yeah, maybe.”

Naruto looked over the classroom, wistfully gazing at the empty tables. “This brings back memories.”

Iruka followed his look and noted that Naruto was staring at the bench where him and his team had sat years ago. Well, almost. It wasn’t the same bench, of course. It wasn’t even the same room or the same building. Naruto’s old classroom had been destroyed along with everything else in the old Academy when Pain had attacked Konoha. But the layout of the room was nearly identical so it was easy to look at that table and see him there. Little troublemaker Naruto with his big, impossible dreams sitting between clever Sakura and prodigy Sasuke. “It sure does,” Iruka agreed.

“Got a good batch this year?” Naruto asked conversationally and it made Iruka wonder whether he was beating around the bush or whether Kakashi’s clone had actually been wrong and whatever Naruto was planning didn’t have anything to do with him at all.

“They’re an interesting bunch,” Iruka replied before going over to start packing up his desk. “Some loud kids, some quiet ones. There’s already some cliques. But overall, I think they’re all going to do very well.”

Naruto smiled. “That’s good.”

Iruka slung his bag over his shoulder once it was packed. “But I bet you didn’t come all the way here just to reminisce with me.”

“Ah- No, that’s right, I didn’t,” Naruto admitted. Suddenly, he seemed much more restless. “I came here to ask you a question, y’know.”

“You know you don’t have to catch me at school if you want to talk. You can always come by,” Iruka said.

“I actually tried that the other day. I came to your place but when I knocked you didn’t open. Even though I was sure you were there.” Naruto pondered out loud. Iruka blanched. “I guess I can’t know for sure but it was pretty late. I guess you might have been asleep.”

“Right,” Iruka agreed hastily, his voice coming out a little more strangled than he would have liked. Well, if he hadn’t made an effort to answer the door, he had probably been in bed at least. Though maybe not quite in the way that Naruto imagined. He thanked his past self profusely for adding noise cancellation to his apartment’s wards.

“Your curtains were drawn, too. It was all very unusual, y’know?”

“Probably asleep, then. I’ve been busy lately. With classes. And there’s the Mission Desk. Well, the usual, you know.” Iruka started to walk past Naruto towards the door expecting him to follow. “Anyway, what did you want to ask me?”

Naruto fell into step beside him after Iruka locked the classroom and started to walk down the hallway. “Just whether you’re free Friday evening.”

“Why? What’s Friday evening?” Iruka asked.

“Nothing much. I just thought you might have time for dinner. I’m going out on another mission next week, so it might be a while before we get another chance, y’know!”

Iruka would have been proud of how casual Naruto sounded while lying to a target – ninja skills and all that. If the target had been anyone other than him. And, well, if the attempt at subterfuge had been a bit better overall. Naruto never asked Iruka to make time for dinner days in advance. It was enough of a slip-up for Iruka to feel justified in at least giving him a bit of a hard time about it. “I see. Well, sometime else would actually work better for me. Maybe tomorrow?”

Naruto frowned. “No, sorry, that’s no good. It has to be Friday. Or Saturday, if you want.”

Friday or Saturday. So if it was a date, did the other person only have time on those days? Perhaps she was a kunoichi currently on a mission? “You know, Ichiraku’s is open any day of the week, right?”

“It’s not Ichiraku’s,” Naruto said insistently. “But it’s not about that, I just- don’t have time.”

“Really?” Iruka asked as they reached the door of the teacher’s lounge. “You can’t make it any other night?”

Naruto made an uneasy noise. “Something like that. Dinners with Hinata. Married life. You know how it- Well, actually, you don’t know how that is. Sorry!”

Iruka hesitated. “It’s fine.” He looked at Naruto. This would have been a good moment to tell him that it really was fine and that he didn’t need to be married or to even have a relationship. ‘Ah, no, I don’t know how that is and I’m glad I’ll never have to find out’ or something like that. But as he just thought about saying it, his throat felt as though it was closing up around the lie. Kakashi and him weren’t married, but Iruka did know something about shared dinners with a partner. He did know a committed relationship and he never wanted to know a life without Kakashi again. Iruka felt tense, the potential of the moment slipping from his fingers. And he let it.

“So… Friday? Yes or no?”

Iruka hesitated. It would have been best to say ‘no’. But he didn’t know what was going to happen in that case. Naruto had clearly been making some kind of effort and Iruka didn’t want to go and dismiss all of it. He wanted Naruto to know that he wanted to spend time with him. And there was that ever-present slim chance that Naruto didn’t actually have any ulterior motives. Iruka was overcomplicating this. At best, he was going to have a nice evening with Naruto. At worst, he was going to have to deal with another ridiculous date. “Alright, yes.”

“Great!” Naruto grinned. He started to walk ahead, past the teacher’s lounge. He turned around to walk backwards while talking to Iruka .”This will be great, you’ll see! I have to get going! I promised Hinata I’d be home soon, y’know!”

“Wait- Where are we meeting on Friday? What time?”

“I’ll send a clone with the details! Thanks Iruka-sensei! Bye!”

And with that, he ran off. Iruka supposed he should have been grateful that it had been Naruto himself coming to talk to him and not a shadow clone. Somehow, having a shadow clone try to bait him into going someplace on Friday would have felt worse.

Iruka sighed as he turned to the door of the teacher’s lounge. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of going on a date with another woman that Naruto thought was good for him but he supposed it couldn’t really get much worse than last time. If nothing else, he was going to have another silly anecdote to entertain Kakashi with.

The thoughts about Friday continued to tug at Iruka’s mind as he headed to the Mission Desk. He was a little tempted to check which kunoichi were scheduled to return to Konoha by Friday. Or to ask a colleague whether they knew of anything that was happening on Friday and Saturday. But he decided against it. For one, he really didn’t want to drive himself even more crazy with pursuing the matter like that. And he didn’t want to start making a big deal out of it, especially if his paranoia ended up being unfounded.

So, he resolutely focused on his Mission Desk work, casting away any stray thoughts about Fridays and dates and by the end of his shift, he had managed to mostly forget about it.

When he returned home, he was surprised to find that there was someone in his apartment already. The light in the kitchen was on, beckoning him inside and the pleasant scent of dinner wafted over into the hallway. Iruka smiled as he closed the front door and quickly slipped out of his sandals.

“I’m home,” he called out.

“Welcome home,” came the reply from the kitchen. It was so easy and pleasant, it made Iruka’s heart beat a little faster.

Kakashi being home to greet Iruka had become an extremely rare occurrence ever since Kakashi had stepped up as Hokage, seeing as village leaders tended to work longer hours than Academy instructors. In fact, Iruka could recall this happening only once before since the start of Kakashi’s tenure.

He happily made his way over to the kitchen. Kakashi was, in fact, very much present. He was wearing an apron, his back turned toward the door as he wielded a pan over the stove. Iruka observed for a few moments, watching Kakashi’s every move. He had once felt bad for Kakashi being the one to cook for them seeing as Iruka had more free time. But Kakashi had insisted that it wasn’t a chore but actually something he enjoyed and that had been that.

Iruka smiled. Kakashi looked so soft like this, cooking dinner for them, handling groceries and kitchen utensils. It made it easy to forget how utterly lethal he was.

“You’re here early,” Iruka observed as he stepped inside the kitchen.

“Maa, you can thank Shikamaru. Actually finding documents I need to sign makes things quicker.” He turned to look at Iruka over his shoulder. He winked, something he had started doing much more frequently ever since he stopped having to cover one of his eyes. “Who would have thought?”

Iruka chuckled. “I can’t believe they let you be in charge of paperwork.”

“You and me both,” Kakashi agreed as he turned back to the stove, continuing to cook with familiar and practiced movements. “But I haven’t actually lost a document so far.”

Iruka hummed in response. He took off his flak jacket and put it aside in the hallway before returning to walk over to Kakashi and wrap his arms around him. He pressed his nose into the nape of Kakashi’s neck and breathed in his scent deeply before planting an innocent little kiss there.

“Mmh, sensei, if you keep that up, we’re going to have to postpone dinner in favor of other things.”

Iruka smiled fondly. “Perish the thought,” he teased before nosing at the spot and giving it another kiss. “I could stay like this forever.”

“That might make it difficult to eat dinner,” Kakashi pointed out. “Though I guess we could figure it out.”

“Fine, I’ll go wash up,” Iruka said. He kissed Kakashi’s neck once more before reluctantly releasing him. While Iruka went to wash up and take off his forehead protector, he could hear the sounds of Kakashi starting to plate their dinner. By the time he was at the dining table, everything was served and Kakashi was already waiting. Iruka sat down, hungrily eyeing the food. Rice, grilled fish, some vegetables and pickles. Relatively simple by Kakashi’s standards, but it looked and smelled absolutely mouth-watering.

“I wanted to do something more complicated,” Kakashi said if he had read Iruka’s mind. “But I didn’t get around to doing a grocery run today.”

“That’s my job, anyway,” Iruka said as he started to fill his bowl with rice. “Just write down what you need me to get next time.”

Kakashi looked at him intently. “But will you make sure to get a good eggplant this time?”

“Hey! I pick a bad one one time and I have to hear about it forever?” Iruka asked.

“That’s what a long-term relationship is,” Kakashi pointed out.

“Is it? Well then, let me remind you of the first mission report you ever handed me.”

Kakashi tried to look nonplussed by the threat but Iruka could see the remnants of mortification in his eyes as Iruka began to recount in detail how utterly inept at writing mission reports Kakashi had once been. Before he’d graduated from ineptitude to purposefully writing bad ones to annoy the staff. When Iruka had sufficiently teased his boyfriend, his boyfriend teased right back and they spent dinner trading silly stories back and forth. Iruka was smiling and chuckling more often than not. By the time they finished eating, they had progressed to discussing their respective days and Iruka remembered that he’d been meaning to bring something up.

“Friday?” Kakashi asked once Iruka finished telling him about his conversation with Naruto.

“Yes. Why? What’s on Friday?”

“It’s probably unrelated,” Kakashi drawled but he seemed a bit too nervous for Iruka’s liking.

“Tell me.”

“Well, the only thing that comes to mind is that we are expecting a small delegation from the Land of Lightning to arrive on Friday.”

Iruka blinked. “Yeah, that- that’s probably not related.”

“Probably not. Or at least I’m not entirely sure how it would be related. It’s nothing big, anyway, not like the Raikage is coming. I honestly might pawn off the whole negotiations on Shikamaru,” Kakashi explained.

“Please don’t. He’s probably the only assistant who will put up with you.”

“You put up with me.” Kakashi smirked.

“I’m not your assistant.”

It looked as if a lightbulb went off in Kakashi’s head at those words. His eyes became bright and eager, he leaned closer. Iruka was afraid of what he was going to say next. “Do you want to be? It would be perfect. You know, I’ve been reading this new book where a powerful merchant and his assistant-“

“Nope!”

“You didn’t even let me explain the best part.”

“Don’t need to.”

Kakashi faked a deeply dismayed sigh and Iruka smiled to himself as Kakashi relented. Iruka looked down at his empty bowl. A delegation from the Land of Lightning. It probably had nothing to do with him. He raised his bowl to Kakashi and asked for seconds.

Chapter Text

In the past…

Kakashi sighed as he slipped the novel back into the bookshelf. The premise sounded tired and the prose seemed to be lacking, if the first page was any indication. Apparently, there was just no good substitute for Icha Icha.

Kakashi had been back inside Konoha’s walls for a little over 48 hours and out of the hospital for about six of them. By now, the hospital staff was surely also aware of the latter fact. But really, what had they expected once they had told him that they had healed his wounds as much as they could?

Unfortunately, escaping that sanitized hell meant entering another one: the monotony of being a field shinobi on home turf. Ever since his genin team had moved onto better things – in Naruto’s and Sakura’s cases, anyway – there had been nothing much for Kakashi to do when he was forced to stay in the village for extended periods of time. Like when he had to heal from wounds or chakra exhaustion.

In the field, Kakashi was a weapon. He was highly trained, extremely skilled and, if necessary, absolutely lethal. He thrived when he had a purpose, when he was under pressure to succeed in the name of his village. But he’d never been all that good at creating purpose for himself. Without objectives and mission parameters to guide his actions, he became restless. Weapons were meant to be wielded, after all. Not to rot away at home.

He didn’t reject the notion of being in Konoha as much as he once had. He had even tried to build some facsimile of a life here, though he’d gone about it somewhat haplessly. He had observed what other field jōnin did while staying in town. Most of them hadn’t seemed as aimless and pointless as him, so it stood to reason that they had discovered some trick or secret that he hadn’t found, yet.

But their solutions seemed to be just that, their solutions. Going to bars and spending time with loved ones, tending to gardens or pets, creating art or beauty or something else that hadn’t been there before… Everything they did made Kakashi feel like an outsider looking in without a key to the building. He didn’t do too well in most social situations, he didn’t have a family to spend time with or a lover to soothe his aches. He didn’t really have hobbies beyond reading and he certainly wasn’t an artist.

All he really ever did for enjoyment was indulge in Icha Icha and all he ever created was something to eat. And the latter only when he had the mental capacity to do so. And only ever as sustenance, not as a creative outlet. Perhaps sharing it with someone would have made a difference but he didn’t know whom to share it with. The few people who still stuck around him were gone almost as much as he was.

So that left him with books and his current quest to find a new story to take him away from the village for a bit. He loved Jiraiya’s works above all, but with how well he knew the stories at this point, what he did with them could barely be considered ‘reading’ anymore.

He let out another small sigh as he skimmed the titles in the bookshop shelf in front of him only to have that sigh answered by a much louder displeased grumble coming from one shelf over. Curious, Kakashi abandoned the mediocre literature to poke his head around the corner, delighted to find Iruka there.

Iruka was everything Kakashi wasn’t. He was at home in Konoha in a way Kakashi could never be. Iruka seemed to exist in some kind of equilibrium. His life wasn’t fueled by stress hormones and high stakes. He seemed content to just be. He was effortlessly kind and compassionate and no less of a shinobi because of it. Kakashi had seen first-hand how skilled he was and respected him deeply for choosing a career that suited him, for pursuing something that he wanted to pursue. Kakashi knew that the popular opinion among jōnin was that chūnin stayed chūnin because they weren’t skilled enough for more. Kakashi knew that, at least in Iruka’s case, this wasn’t true. And somehow, it seemed brave of him to pick that path.

Iruka was also rather handsome and one of the most attractive people Kakashi had ever had the pleasure of seeing, but that was neither here nor there.

“Having problems there, sensei?” Kakashi asked, choosing to insert himself into the situation before he could think better of it.

Iruka’s head whipped around. “Kakashi-sensei.”

The honorific sounded jarring to Kakashi’s ears. Just like it had the last few times they’d interacted. “Ah, that’s a bit outdated. I stopped being a sensei somewhere between one student deserting and the other two deciding to train with someone else.” He forced a smile.

“That’s nonsense,” Iruka replied immediately, nearly startling Kakashi with the firmness in his tone. “You’ve taught them all and you’ve taught them well. You deserve that title just as much as any other jōnin-sensei.”

Kakashi disagreed full-heartedly. But he wasn’t about to argue with the earnestness and certainty that Iruka radiated. He couldn’t deny that Iruka’s unwavering insistence reached some part of him that the platitudes he had received from others had not. This wasn’t new. Iruka had never been afraid to stand up to Kakashi, no matter his ruthless reputation. The fiery personality that had other jōnin mutter words like ‘insubordination’ and ‘disrespect’ delighted Kakashi to no end. “If you say so.”

Iruka regarded him for another moment with that unyielding intensity. But then he relaxed and sighed. “But I would hate to make you uncomfortable, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi averted his eyes, unused to such simple acceptance of his preferences. He looked at the shelf Iruka had been engaged with instead. He raised an eyebrow at what he found. “So what have the cookbooks done to deserve your ire?”

Iruka blushed a little – it was a very good look – before turning toward the shelf as well. “Ah, nothing. You don’t have to concern yourself with that.”

Kakashi hummed, undeterred. “I could give you some recommendations, if you like.”

“You read cookbooks?”

“Is that so strange?” Kakashi smiled at him with amusement. “I have read some, though it’s been a while. But then, recipes probably don’t change much, do they?”

Iruka seemed to consider this. “I suppose not. Otherwise people probably wouldn’t insist on cooking things the way their grandmas and grandmas’ grandmas did all the time.”

Kakashi snorted. He raised his hand to one of the books and tilted it out of the row before sliding it out completely. He looked it over to see whether it was any good. Or maybe to have something to occupy himself with so that he could pretend to be perfectly at ease in a conversation that didn’t include words like ‘status’ or ‘casualties’. “How skilled of a chef are you?”

Iruka tensed and Kakashi had a good idea about why. He had glimpsed Iruka’s grocery purchases a few weeks ago and it was basically universally known that Ichiraku’s was like Iruka’s second home. But Kakashi wasn’t going to voice such an uncharitable assumption as a lack of any skill, especially when these almost-friendly conversations with Iruka broke some of that dreaded monotony that tinted his stay at home in permanent grayscale.

“I think calling me a ‘chef’ of any kind would probably be an affront to any actual chefs,” Iruka admitted. “Let me just say that I’ve failed at frying eggs more than once and leave it at that.”

From the corner of his eye, Kakashi could see Iruka shrinking a little, like he expected to be mocked. Kakashi wondered whether that said more about how Iruka saw him or about Iruka himself. Kakashi did enjoy the odd bout of teasing now and again but he could tell that they were dancing around a sore spot and he still had no desire to antagonize Iruka and make this pleasant conversation end. “In that case, you might like this one,” Kakashi said and held out the book he had picked. “It’s suitable for a beginner. I learned some tricks from an older edition that I still use today.”

Iruka took the book from him and looked it over with an appraising gaze, which roamed over the front and back covers only to linger on the little price tag sticker. Suddenly, Iruka’s earlier displeasure started to make sense.

It wasn’t polite to discuss money – something that Kakashi disagreed with, seeing as money was just about the only thing in life that was objective fact. It was cold, hard numbers. But Kakashi estimated that the paychecks for teaching at the Academy and manning the Mission Desk probably didn’t compare to those of A-rank and S-rank missions. Kakashi felt a little bad for putting Iruka in this situation. And that urge to help struck again. It was the same urge that had made Kakashi lend Iruka money a few weeks ago in a grocery store.

And it struck repeatedly, too. Before his latest mission, Kakashi had grabbed a prankster that had been running away from Iruka’s wrath close to the Academy. And just before that, Kakashi had picked up some supplies that Iruka had dropped in the market. It was turning into a bit of a ‘thing’.

But that first encounter in the grocery store was the one that truly haunted Kakashi. He had even compromised his own pretense of being a stingy bastard to help out. An image he had carefully cultivated over the course of years as people tended not to invite stingy bastards to social functions as much. But in that moment, none of that had mattered as much as helping Iruka out.

It hadn’t been altruistic then and the impulse to help wasn’t altruistic now. Sure, Kakashi liked to help, generally speaking. But he liked to help his Hokage get rid of political enemies, or to help important people reach their destinations without being murdered, or to help a comrade survive a brutal and bloody encounter.

He’d never been the type to help someone with their groceries. He wasn’t the person someone turned to when they needed a little favor. He was the person they turned to when they needed someone dead.

But for Iruka – honest, emotional and unafraid Iruka – the rules were different. Little favors let Iruka wave at him from across the street. Little favors made Iruka regard him with a pleasant smile instead of a scowl. Little favors allowed Kakashi to stand beside him and discuss cookbooks rather than being turned away because his input hadn’t been requested and his presence wasn’t desired. Little favors were purely selfish things that Kakashi abused for purely selfish reasons.

“You know,” he said, trying to bury his nervousness under layers and layers of fake nonchalance, “it would be a bit of a waste for you to buy this.”

Iruka’s head snapped toward him, expression first confused, then immediately angry. “I’m not that hopeless!”

Kakashi’s eye widened. He raised his hands in defense. “No, of course-“

“Seriously, Kakashi-san, just because I’m not skilled doesn’t mean I can’t learn! Or, I’m sorry, were you born with the ability to-”

“Let me lend it to you.”

Iruka’s mouth stood open with the next complaint undoubtedly already on his tongue when he blinked and deflated a little. His eyes were big with confusion. “Huh?”

Kakashi felt his face heat. He looked aside. Why was this so goddamn mortifying? “I said I can lend you the book. Well. Some books, actually.” He cleared his throat. “I have them and I don’t need them. It seems like a waste for you to spend your money on new ones when you could just borrow them.” Iruka still wasn’t saying anything so Kakashi plowed ahead while wishing he had never said anything at all. “Eventually, we’ll both have cookbooks gathering dust on our shelves – where’s the point in that?”

“That’s-,” Iruka spluttered, “I can’t accept that. You’ve been far too generous to me, already.”

“Maa, is it generous? I haven’t touched them in forever. Honestly, I probably should have given them away ages ago.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be done with them,” Iruka hedged. “It might take me a while to work through them.”

“That’s fine. I told you, I haven’t so much as opened them in years. If I suddenly get cooking-specific selective amnesia, I trust that you will return them to me.” Kakashi smiled.

Iruka hesitated. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Absolutely certain.”

“Alright then. I appreciate it.” Iruka paused. “But you will have to let me do something for you in return. I insist. None of this ‘I don’t mind’-bullshit again.” Iruka glared at Kakashi. But somehow, the glare didn’t feel nearly as threatening as it usually did.

“I think that can be arranged.” Kakashi grinned.

-

A day later Iruka was surprised to find two wrapped bundles sitting by his front door when he returned from work. He hadn’t realized it at the time but when Kakashi had said he was going to bring over his old cookbooks ‘in the next days’ Iruka hadn’t actually told him where he lived. Then again, it was nothing for a shinobi to make a delivery in spite of that.

Iruka crouched down and carefully opened the first bundle to find a stack of five books inside, clearly not new but apparently kept in very good condition. Iruka opened the other bundle and was surprised to find some plastic containers. The faint scent of cooked food and spices reached his nose and stirred his hungry stomach. On top of the containers sat a note.

‘Godaime sent me out today, apologies for the dead drop.

I had leftovers from dinner. You can throw them out if you don’t want them.’

Below the text was the little face – the henohenomoheji – that Iruka had told Kakashi more than once was not a legitimate signature on a mission report. Iruka smiled. He was going to accept it just this once.

He picked everything up and brought it inside. He looked over the cookbooks first. They really were kept in great condition. The pages had yellowed somewhat with age and the corners were a little worn, but it was clear that someone had treated them with care and respect. He opened one carefully, almost reverently. There was a little ‘Property of’- field on the first page. Inside it was a name – ‘Hatake Sakumo’ – which had been crossed out and replaced with another – ‘Hatake Kakashi’. Iruka quickly closed the book, feeling as if he had intruded on something that wasn’t meant for him.

Still, Kakashi had given these to him. So he was going to have to at least make an effort to use them. He carefully put them aside for the time being. But not tonight, he figured as he eyed the containers Kakashi had left him.

He heated up the leftovers a little later and settled down at the table with them. Normally, it was ill-advised for a shinobi to be eating food that had just been left on his doorstep, but these were special circumstances. Iruka poked around the stir-fry. It smelled heavenly, but that didn’t have to mean anything. He hadn’t really thought about it before but with Kakashi’s busy life, he probably didn’t have time to actually practice cooking a lot. Iruka braced himself as he dug in.

Then he startled at the first bite. The food was incredible.

Chapter Text

Present day

The looming threat of Friday followed Kakashi closely during the next few days. This came as a surprise. Kakashi had an endless list of things to keep his mind occupied. But Naruto’s active interest in Iruka’s love life apparently trumped them all – at least most of the time.

The fact that Naruto’s plans coincided with the arrival of a delegation from Lightning wasn’t something Kakashi could dismiss, either.

So he reviewed all of the information they had about their coming guests and tried to pry anything he might have forgotten about out of Shikamaru’s mind. His efforts yielded a mixed success. Five people from the Land of Lightning were supposed to arrive. Their leader was a man named Nakai Shigeru, a retired shinobi turned politician who handled mercantile affairs for the Raikage’s office ever since coming into significant wealth from a family business. He was going to be accompanied by two other merchants who advised him and who had advertised their own interests in trading with or even opening branch shops in Konoha. The remaining two people were shinobi guards.

Unfortunately, Kakashi didn’t know anything more about the four unnamed people of the group. Supposing that, against all odds, Naruto really was waiting for that delegation, there was a chance that he wanted to set Iruka up with one of them. But that begged the question: How did Naruto know about any of this? The visit wasn’t public knowledge and even if Naruto had somehow found out about it, that didn’t explain how he seemed to know things that not even Kakashi was aware of.

That was the question that stuck with Kakashi as Friday finally arrived.

He wasn’t in a great mood that day. He hadn’t been able to visit Iruka the past two nights and he felt on edge. He tried to mentally prepare himself as he left the Hokage Residence and started making his way toward the Tower. He noted two ANBU guards detaching themselves from their positions to follow him.

The walk was brief but it felt like it took hours. Kakashi made his way through the streets, nodding at those who greeted him or bowed to him. The whole practice made him want to disappear. He could have been in his office in a fraction of the time if he went via rooftop, even less if he body flickered at least part of the way. But he’d been forced to realize shortly after he’d become Hokage that seeing their leader in a hurry made people feel uneasy – especially civilians.

They liked to see him at ease, comfortably walking to places instead of vaulting over rooftops, so that they could respectfully greet their Hokage and wish him a good day.

It had grated at first, taking a slower route than necessary, but he understood why it was for best. People tended to look toward authority to gauge the state of things. If one’s leader was at ease, things were okay. Kakashi had been the leader of many mission teams in the past, keeping inexperienced shinobi from freaking out by keeping calm himself. He could take the scenic route to the Tower if it put the people at ease.

He occupied himself by paying attention to the two ANBU who leapt between buildings – like he yearned to be doing – and followed him on silent feet. That was another thing that rankled. Constant surveillance. The two men currently shadowing him were codenamed Sable and Hare.

Sable was in his 20s; he’d been recruited shortly before Kakashi had become Hokage. He was very skilled, but could do with more experience and he always seemed a little uncomfortable when interacting with Kakashi directly. Hare, on the other hand, was slightly older than Kakashi and had been in ANBU for over a decade, though Kakashi had never worked with him during his own service. Hare was quick and capable but he seemed to be allergic to humor. At least Kakashi’s humor. Not that Kakashi had the right to complain about that, he’d been the textbook example of an antisocial bastard when he’d been wearing the Hound mask and armored gloves.

Sable caught Kakashi looking his way which led him to stumble. Inexperienced.

Kakashi arrived at the wall surrounding the Tower and paused to spare the bulletin board a glance. It displayed flyers and notes for the general public containing information about things like construction projects, public announcements or upcoming events. There were also advertisements for festivals and markets, signs of a healthy village that made Kakashi proud of the people he was serving.

Every once in a while someone abused it for a prank, so Kakashi checked it regularly in the hopes of having a fun little anecdote to share with Iruka. Iruka always replied with critique as if he was a fine art critic reviewing a painting, not a reformed prankster talking about a defaced bulletin board. Kakashi got a kick out of it every single time.

But that morning, Kakashi was out of luck. The only new additions were a poster asking for volunteers for the summer festival planning committee, an advert for the war survivor support group and a flyer advertising an upcoming artisan’s market. Kakashi suppressed a groan. When he’d asked the organizers of the summer festival to establish a committee, he hadn’t expected them to ask everyone. He hoped that the inevitable flood of applications stayed far away from his desk.

“Kakashi!”

Kakashi looked up to see Gai approaching him in his wheelchair. He was speeding up in Kakashi’s direction, forcing people to leap out of the way. “Good morning, Gai,” Kakashi greeted when Gai came to a halt in front of him.

“I see my Eternal Rival is ready for another day of passionately working for the good of the village! How fortunate we are to have such a Hip and Cool leader!” Gai praised.

“It’s just my job,” Kakashi replied honestly.

“Do not diminish your hard work, Rival! It is a Most Excellent Job you’re doing. The Burning Determination of your Youth is truly inspiring for us all!”

“I’m not much more youthful than you, Gai.”

Gai hummed. “Your modesty is as intact as ever, I see.”

“It’s honesty.”

“You are proving my point!” Gai declared. “Well, I do hope that, in spite of your Inspiring Work Ethic, you are finding time for other things, too. I cannot help but notice that it has been quite a while since our last impassioned challenge.”

That was true. Kakashi spent almost all of his time being Hokage. And whatever he had left he usually spent going to see Iruka, which required some extra time to get rid of his ANBU guards. “That’s on me,” Kakashi admitted.

Gai held out a hand as if to silence him. “Do not apologize for taking on the Huge Responsibility that you have! Your Dedication to your work is a Boon to our community! And I would never hold such a thing against you.” He met Kakashi’s eyes with a stern look. “But it should not be the only thing you do. Even a Hokage can and must participate in the Joys and Pleasures of Life.”

“Maa, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Not as fine as you, apparently. You seem to be in high spirits today,” Kakashi deflected very poorly as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I am! My very own protégé has returned from his Youthful Mission yesterday! And he immediately came to see me!” Gai shed some tears of joy.

“Oh, that’s right. Lee-kun did report back yesterday.”

“I hope you will give him time for some well-deserved rest, Rival! I would very much like to resume his training!”

Training and rest seemed to be somewhat mutually exclusive concepts. But Kakashi pointing out something like that was going to put him squarely into a glass house. “You’re still overseeing his training?”

“Of course.” Gai grinned knowingly and put a hand to his chin. “The bond between teacher and student is Sacred and not broken by something like injury or time! My most Diligent student still seeks my wisdom. And the work of self-improvement never stops – spring to winter, day and night, you know that!”

That tracked. All of it for Gai, some of it even for Kakashi. Sakura and Naruto still valued his opinion and even still asked him for help sometimes. Though to a much lesser and much more sobering degree than the way Lee hung onto Gai’s every word. “Well, I’m sure Lee-kun is looking forward to the training.”

“As am I! I am truly Grateful for my Precious student! And proud of him, of course.”

“Of course,” Kakashi echoed. He wasn’t going to say it, but he worried about Gai. Like Kakashi, Gai didn’t have any family left. He’d suffered a lot of losses. Unlike Kakashi, Gai was no longer on active duty and had a lot of free time while the vast majority of his friends took missions, trained and worked in ways that kept them busy. Kakashi glanced at the bulletin board. He looked back at Gai. “Unfortunately, today’s a busy day for me. I just wanted to give the bulletin board a look.” He nodded toward it.

“But of course! Don’t let me keep you! And do your best today!”

Kakashi did a cheerful little salute. “Will do.”

He continued walking and paused by the gate of the Tower to look back. Gai was studying the bulletin board. Kakashi smiled to himself before entering the building. He headed toward his office and Shikamaru spotted him in the hallway and fell into step beside him.

“Good morning, Kakashi-sama.”

“Will the ‘sama’ never stop?” Kakashi whined.

“You’re here later than I thought you would be,” Shikamaru observed, not gracing his complaint with acknowledgment.

“I crossed paths with a friend and we got lost in that chance meeting,” Kakashi recounted. It wasn’t a lie, but he didn’t expect to be believed. Not with the reputation he’d built for himself over the course of years. Even if he made an effort to be punctual as Hokage.

“Right,” Shikamaru said doubtfully.

They arrived at Kakashi’s office and Kakashi unlocked the door. He stepped inside and Shikamaru followed. “I assume you wanted something?” Kakashi asked as he sat down behind his desk.

“Just to go over your schedule for today. It’s a drag, but there’s a lot on the agenda.”

“Of course, let’s do it.” Kakashi began to search his desk as Shikamaru approached.

“On the left. Second stack.”

“Right, right,” Kakashi muttered and took the correct document from the indicated stack. “There it is.” Kakashi grimaced. Shikamaru had been right: It was a lot. Kakashi had known as much but seeing it all on one page made him want to body flicker away.

There was a pause in the room followed by a tentative, “Are you alright?”

Kakashi looked up at Shikamaru in surprise. “Me? Yes, of course. This is just a lot for one day, isn’t it? Do you think the city architect would meet with a clone?” Kakashi propped his head up on his hand.

“You look tired.”

Kakashi was, but he hadn’t really felt it that much until just then. Not seeing Iruka and not knowing what was going to happen that day had taken a toll. In addition to the constant weariness that had become a baseline for him over the years. But he must have looked pretty bad if Shikamaru was saying something about it. Shikamaru normally didn’t touch anything that could evolve into a personal conversation with a ten-foot pole. “Just have a lot on my mind. Part of the job,” Kakashi said with a fake smile.

Shikamaru gave him a look that was both unconvinced and far too keen. It was one of Kakashi’s least favorite looks from his assistant’s repertoire because it reminded him that Shikamaru was too clever for his own good and picked up on things that most people didn’t.

“Personal matters,” Kakashi amended, knowing that that was going to be enough to shut down the conversation.

“Ah.” Shikamaru predictably looked down at his clipboard.

Relieved, Kakashi turned his attention back to his own document. It was somewhat ironic that Shikamaru was just about the only person in the village who was so easily deterred by a statement like that, instead of incensed to find out more.

It was ironic, because Shikamaru knew. He knew about Iruka and Kakashi.

Kakashi had never meant for him to know. He had never divulged anything on purpose and he had made sure that Iruka and him hadn’t broadcast anything during their sparse professional interactions. But somewhere between one professional meeting between the two of them in the Hokage’s office and Kakashi knowing the Mission Desk shift schedule slightly better than was perhaps expected of him, Shikamaru had figured it out. He had even brought it up with Kakashi. Once.

“Should I have this sent here, to your residence, to the Academy or to Iruka-sensei’s?” he had asked with a completely neutral tone of voice. He had been holding up an invoice for an order that had had absolutely nothing to do with Iruka or the Academy. And Kakashi had understood the concealed message for what it had been.

“Ah. Here is fine,” Kakashi had said and smiled while hoping that the heat in his face hadn’t come with a matching shade of red.

Shikamaru had given him a long, appraising look and nodded. And just like that, the matter had been settled.

Neither of them had brought it up again after that.

“So, the schedule,” Shikamaru said, pulling Kakashi out of his thoughts. “The hospital chief informed me that the meeting today might run long, so I’ve moved things around to make it less annoying.”

“I see. Thank you for that.”

If Kakashi had been given the option to tell a single person the truth about his relationship status, he likely would not have picked Shikamaru. Nonsensical in hindsight, of course, since Shikamaru was one of the most – if not the most – intelligent shinobi in Konoha, making his finding out completely unavoidable from the moment he’d become Kakashi’s assistant.

But even if he wouldn’t have picked Shikamaru, Kakashi didn’t mind him knowing. Shikamaru wasn’t someone to question a personal decision like a relationship. And he was smart enough to understand or intuit why the relationship needed to be kept secret without someone spelling it out for him. And skilled in keeping said secret due to his skills as shinobi and his brutal disinterest in Konoha’s favorite pastime – gossip.

And there was that other thing, Kakashi thought idly as Shikamaru and him went over the details of the day. That thing where Shikamaru didn’t seem to care in the slightest that the Hokage he worked for and knew to represent the village harbored affections for a man, instead of a woman. Something that would have caused outrage among the majority of the citizens of Konoha. His disinterest in this particular fact lined up pretty well with how Kakashi would have imagined Shikaku to have raised his son. ‘Don’t just accept the judgments of others. Look at the situation and make your own call.’ seemed to align rather well with Shikaku’s personality.

Shikamaru had simply taken the sensitive information as fact, perhaps completely neutral in value. Or perhaps he was good enough at hiding any discomfort that he felt about it – any discomfort that went beyond his normal level of discomfort over discussing relationships with his superior, at least.

Kakashi appreciated Shikamaru’s discretion and downright tight-lippedness about the matter, regardless of how he truly felt about it. But sometimes Kakashi found himself wishing that he could casually bring up something funny that Iruka had said or to ask Shikamaru for this thoughts on a present Kakashi had procured.

But those wishes dimmed quickly in the context of the bigger picture. And so, Iruka’s and Kakashi’s relationship was the same in the Hokage’s office as it was nearly everywhere else: Nonexistent.

“-Sai’s team sent word, they’ll return soon,” Shikamaru continued the explanation he’d been giving Kakashi. “And then there’s just the matter of the delegation from the Land of Lightning. I scheduled for both of us to greet them together and I’ve reserved a room for it. Did you change your mind about sending someone else to greet them?”

Perhaps Kakashi should have taken Naruto along. Just to see some reactions. “No, the two of us should be fine. Have we heard anything else from them?”

“Not since they’ve crossed the border. They should probably be on time. I’ll have the patrol inform us once they’re spotted.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Shikamaru nodded and turned toward the door. He paused and turned back around. “One last thing. But it’s a drag.”

“What is it?”

“Right, well, about the meeting with the elders tomorrow. They requested to speak with you alone.”

Kakashi sighed with exasperation. “That always ends well. Did they say why?”

“Only that the matter was delicate in nature.”

Kakashi noticed a concerned edge in Shikamaru’s tone of voice and he felt a prickle discomfort himself. ‘Delicate matters’ could be any number of things. Most of them deeply worrying. “Fine. If it makes them happy.”

“I don’t think I have ever seen either of them being happy about anything.”

“Touché.”

-

Friday had arrived much too fast and Iruka didn’t like it.

He had spent the last few days stewing in dread, even if he’d been telling himself that he didn’t really have anything to worry about. This dread had gone so far as to muddy the satisfaction of catching the kids who had vandalized the side of the school and making them clean it up. He knew that his worry had impacted his behavior in class as well, though in hindsight he couldn’t tell whether he’d been more or less harsh on the kids because of it.

Even his fellow Academy instructors and his coworkers at the Mission Desk had noticed and commented on him being a little off.

But of course he was a little off! Naruto was planning something for Friday and there was a foreign delegation coming to town the very same day and Iruka had no idea whether those things were related or not. And then, even worse, Naruto had sent a shadow clone by Iruka’s class – much to the delight of the kids and the chagrin of Iruka himself – to share the details. Like what time to meet, where to meet and one further harrowing instruction:

‘Dress nice!’

It had cemented Iruka’s suspicions about the nature of what Naruto had in store for him and had made him want to cancel the whole thing right then and there.

But he hadn’t. And so it was Friday and Iruka snapped at his class twice as often as he normally did – harsher, he was definitely being harsher on his students. It was a relief for everybody when he dismissed the kids for lunch. He pretended not to hear them whispering to each other about his outbursts as they left. Iruka rubbed his temples. He had to get himself under control. No matter what this evening brought, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

He took a deep breath and made his way to the teacher’s lounge for his own lunch break. As he opened the door, the first thing he heard was – of course – gossip.

“Did you hear? Rokudaime’s hosting official visitors from the Land of Lightning today.”

Iruka hesitated for the fraction of a second before he gathered himself and greeted the other teachers as he entered. There were only two of them present. They replied in kind as he made his way over to his desk but they then quickly returned to their hushed conversation. Good thing Iruka had superb hearing.

“A delegation from the Land of Lightning? Is the Raikage in town?” Sadoru asked, leaning closer to Suzume, who had provided the initial information.

“No, I don’t think so. Just some politicians and a guard, but I hear that there’s a really special guest, too.”

“What kind of special guest?”

“This kunoichi arrived with them. Apparently, she’s known for her beauty throughout the Land of Lightning. And even abroad! Supposedly, she has had hundreds of suitors and rejected them all.”

Iruka paused in the process of unpacking his lunch. He felt something unpleasant bubbling in his gut.

“Wow, why?”

“From what I’ve heard,” Suzume said as she adjusted her glasses, “she doesn’t want someone who only sees her beauty. She wants a good, honest man, who doesn’t care about looks or money. Because she’s also wealthy, apparently. The daughter of a merchant, I hear. Daikoku-san heard that she is dressed in finery, even when she’s out on missions.”

“Huuuh? What’s someone like that doing here?”

“I heard she’s thinking about moving here,” Suzume replied. “To bring her family’s trade to town. I don’t know what to think about that. Supposedly, she’s extremely skilled. It seems strange to me that a skilled foreign ninja would be interested in moving here.”

Iruka picked up one of the storebought onigiri and unwrapped it. His hands were a little less steady than he wanted them to be.

“Is she really that pretty? That she’s famous for it?” Sadoru asked innocently and with what sounded like genuine curiosity.

“How would I know?” Suzume countered. “It’s not like I’ve seen her myself. Apparently, people describe her as goddess-like. Gorgeous beyond words. Like a legend.”

Iruka bit into his onigiri, completely unaware of how it tasted.

“I wonder why she wants to move here of all places. The Land of Lightning is pretty far away. That’s a lot of travel to see one’s family,” Sadoru wondered out loud. “Imagine having to go that far just to see your loved ones.” She paused. “Do you think she’s here for Kakashi-sama?”

Iruka paused chewing.

“Why would she be here for Kakashi-sama?” Suzume asked.

“Well, she’s a beautiful kunoichi who wants a good man. And he’s a handsome single shinobi and a good person – I mean, he wouldn’t be Hokage if he wasn’t a good person. Maybe she’s hoping to make a match?” Sadoru suggested in a scandalized tone. “What if they get married?”

Iruka grimaced to himself as he tried not to imagine Kakashi alongside a beautiful kunoichi in a bridal kimono. It was an unrealistic image, but it still made Iruka’s stomach turn. He swallowed and took another big, angry bite of his onigiri.

“I suppose that could be an option,” Suzume agreed. “It would be very advantageous for anyone to marry a Kage. Even if it’s not your own, I guess. Oh! Actually, it makes perfect sense! I hear that this kunoichi knows Naruto-kun and that Naruto-kun suggested she visit.”

Iruka choked. Loudly. He made awful sounds as he began pounding a fist into his chest in an effort to get rid of the rice in his throat cutting off his air.

The other teachers leapt up immediately at the sounds of his struggle and hurried over. Iruka’s eyes watered. The rice wouldn’t come unstuck. Sadoru began patting him on the back. “Try to breathe, Iruka-sensei!” she instructed unhelpfully.

Suzume shook her head. “You’re being too soft. Let me.” She ushered Sadoru aside, raised her hand and hit Iruka’s back with a precise jab with the side of her hand that cleared his airways and was definitely going to leave a big, dark bruise.

He panted and held his throat. He swallowed. “Thank you, Suzume-sensei.”

“Anytime.”

“Is everything okay?” Sadoru asked with big, worried eyes. “Do you need some water?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I was just being clumsy.” He laughed awkwardly.

“If you say so.”

It was apparently enough to alleviate the worries of his colleagues who withdrew and went back to their seats. Their topic of conversation changed, however, and they made an effort to invite Iruka to chat with them. As if his choking had been a request for more attention.

Iruka tried his best to offer his input here and there, but he found it difficult to follow what exactly they were saying. Because a famously beautiful woman from the Land of Lightning that Naruto knew was visiting Konoha.

There was no way.

There was just no way.

Iruka was an Academy instructor. There was no way some wealthy, famous, gorgeous kunoichi from a different country was going to want to meet him. Then again, a semi-wealthy, famous, gorgeous Hokage was coming to meet him more nights than not.

Iruka looked out of the window as if he could spot her from there. It wasn’t too late to pretend to be sick. But he’d told Naruto multiple times that he was going to be there. And he couldn’t disappoint him by going back on his word.

He looked down at his murderous onigiri. Perhaps if it had finished the job, he could have at least avoided this evening.

Iruka steeled himself and dismissed those thoughts. He was a shinobi and he’d seen way worse than an uncomfortable social situation. Another little matchmaking attempt wasn’t going to change anything.

Chapter Text

In the past…

The last vestiges of winter disappeared, giving way to warm spring days.

During that time, Iruka tried a total of two recipes from Kakashi’s cookbooks, both with equally disastrous results. He didn’t report said disasters to Kakashi, mostly because he had no interest in revealing them to anybody but also because Kakashi and him didn’t run into each other that often due to missions. Whenever Iruka did spot him, the clean leftover containers sitting in his kitchen came to mind and he cursed himself for not bringing them along.

He was going to return them eventually. Just like he was going to do something to pay back those favors he owed. He had promised that to Kakashi and he had every intention of following through. The only problem was: He had no idea what he was going to do.

Iruka didn’t actually know what Kakashi liked or could benefit from. Sure, he could have asked him how he wanted those favors repaid, but there was a decent chance Kakashi was just going to brush off Iruka’s attempts or make a joke to deflect. Plus, Kakashi had taken the initiative twice now. And Iruka wasn’t going to let it happen a third time.

So the question remained: What did a chūnin Academy instructor possibly have to offer someone like Kakashi? Iruka refused to feel inadequate when thinking about it, but it was difficult when one played compare and contrast with their careers. Iruka’s day-to-day was teaching kids while Kakashi was out there putting his life on the line for the village. The biggest injury Iruka had received in the last few months were some cuts from pre-genin failing to aim their shuriken. Iruka didn’t even want to imagine what Kakashi’s latest wounds had been like.

A person’s value wasn’t defined by something like rank, but Iruka didn’t know whether Kakashi agreed with that notion.

He was taking a walk under the pink petals of a late cherry blossom, barely taking in the pretty sight as his mind was lost to his contemplations. Normally, Iruka would have defaulted to treating Kakashi to ramen. Lunch or dinner at Ichiraku’s was a time-honored tradition among Konoha shinobi when it came to thanking someone. At least in Iruka’s experience.

But Iruka could admit that he was probably projecting his own desires. There was a chance that Kakashi didn’t enjoy ramen, as appalling as the thought was. That, and Iruka wasn’t sure whether Kakashi was going to appreciate the returned favor amounting to Iruka paying for him. Iruka didn’t want this thing between them to be a matter of essentially shoving money back and forth.

Not that there was a ‘thing between them’. They were nothing more than acquaintances. Maybe on the way to becoming tentative friends, if Iruka was feeling particularly generous about labeling them. His attraction to Kakashi was still alive and well, but it was a one-sided affair. Kakashi probably didn’t even like men. And he probably had some policy against dating below his own rank or something. If he dated at all. Had Iruka ever heard of him dating anyone? He couldn’t recall something like that.

Iruka paused in his walk and shook his head. He sighed. His thoughts were going around in circles. He wasn’t getting anywhere at this rate. He just had to suck it up and ask someone.

Maybe Asuma. Asuma and Kakashi had known each other for years, he was bound to know something that Iruka didn’t. And out of all the jōnin that Iruka had ever seen Kakashi with, Asuma was the most approachable. Maybe Iruka was a bit biased because Asuma was Sandaime’s son, but he could gladly accept that bias. But even asking Asuma was daunting. Iruka was going to have to explain away his sudden interest, maybe by mentioning those little favors Kakashi had done for him. And everyone knew Kakashi’s reputation so it was going to sound really weird.

Iruka took a breath. He was just going to have to deal with that.

Kakashi, unfortunately, proved to be even more of a mystery than Iruka had anticipated. Iruka tried to subtly pry information out of a few of the people he had assumed to be Kakashi’s friends. Only to come to the uncomfortable realization that none of them seemed to know him all that well. Not his likes and dislikes or what would have been useful to him, at least. Porn and ninja tools were the two things people could name. Iruka was not going to buy Kakashi porn. And he wasn’t going to give him a random ninja tool and call it a day.

Perhaps Iruka was just going to go with his ramen plan and Kakashi could deal with it. It was his own damn fault for being so secretive, after all. Besides, Kakashi did not appear to be in a hurry to collect on his favor. Iruka decided to give up on his quest to learn more on his way home from a particularly grueling Mission Desk shift. It was evening and he was looking at the cherry blossoms again. Only a day or two were left before the trees were going to shed their soft petals.

It was this distraction that caused him to bump into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry-“

“Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka startled and took a step back. In front of him was a jumpsuit-clad jōnin. His eyes widened. He was familiar with Maito Gai, of course. One couldn’t live in Konoha without knowing or at least knowing of Maito Gai. What surprised him far more was that Gai apparently knew him.

“How fortuitous it is that we should run into each other this fine evening!” Gai proclaimed.

“Ah, good evening, Gai-sensei,” Iruka replied, much more subdued. He wasn’t entirely sure how one handled an interaction with Gai. “You said fortuitous? Can I help you with something?”

Gai chuckled and put a hand to his chin looking like he knew something he was deliberately withholding. “I believe the question should be whether I can help you, Iruka-sensei!”

“Huh?”

“Is it not true that you have been investigating what is in the Heart of Hearts of my Eternal Rival?” Gai asked.

Iruka immediately felt his cheeks grow hot. “I- I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You don’t know who my Esteemed Rival is? Oho, have you not heard of the most Famous Rivalry in the Land of Fire? Between the Hip and Cool Kakashi of the Sharingan and yours truly, the Youthful and Passionate Green Beast of Konoha?”

Iruka did know of this rivalry. Somewhat. Once every while, the unsuspecting citizens of Konoha were subjected to Kakashi and Gai engaging in some weird activity together, supposedly as a challenge. There were probably some reason and history there, but Iruka wasn’t privy to either. What was actually bothering him though, was that Gai was apparently aware of Iruka’s attempts to find out more about Kakashi. And screaming about it in the middle of the street. “No, I know that, I just-“ Iruka looked around and spotted a bar that looked relatively empty. “Why don’t we go in there to talk?”

“A splendid idea!” Gai praised after seeing the place Iruka was indicating. “Let us do just that!”

Iruka led the way into the quiet space. Most of the tables and booths were vacant and the person behind the bar paid Iruka and Gai’s arrival no mind. Iruka headed to a booth in the far corner, putting as much distance between him and the few other patrons as possible.

“Do you want a drink? I’ll get us something to drink,” Iruka said as Gai sat down.

“A very kind offer. Much appreciated!”

Iruka walked over to the bar. He used the short wait for the drinks as a reprieve to mull over his options. He apparently had stumbled into an actual, true friend of Kakashi’s. Now all he had to do was get the information he wanted without being weird about it. He picked up the drinks and brought them back over to the table, noting that his hands felt a little more shaky than they should have.

“So,” Iruka started as he slid into the seat opposite of Gai. “Yes, I have been asking around about Kakashi-san a bit.”

“I thought so! Asuma asked me whether I knew what my Dearest Rival was up to lately and revealed that you had prompted that line of inquiry!” Gai explained. “I am Most Glad! It warms my heart to see that my Rival has sown the Seeds of Friendship with you and that you intend to nourish them to blossom!”

“Friendship? No, we’re not- I mean- I guess we might be friends? But that’s not really what this is about. I just need a way to pay him back for a favor he did me. That’s all.” Iruka took a big sip.

“A favor? My Esteemed Rival is not known for handing out favors. Your Bond must be special, indeed,” Gai pondered.

Well, that deflection had backfired spectacularly. “I think he just wanted to help. Regardless. I owe him but I have no idea what to do about that since we barely know each other. I figured one of his friends might know more.”

“Hmmmmm.” Gai paused. “Kakashi’s Heart has the reinforcements of a Triple-Locked Safe. He does not open up easily.”

“I’m not looking for anything personal. I just want to know what he could use. Nothing more.” Iruka hesitated. “I want to be even. I don’t like being indebted to him,” he tacked on. And although that was completely true – Iruka didn’t like owing people things – it felt like a lie.

Gai mustered him. Whatever he was looking for seemed to warrant a thorough examination. Iruka could tell when he was being evaluated. Eventually, the tension faded and Gai made a satisfied nod, crossing his arms decisively. “My Rival is not one for material possessions, if that is what you were hoping to bestow upon him. And he is, of course, very Cool and Capable. There are not many things he would require others to do for him.”

So Gai didn’t have any ideas either. Iruka sighed and looked down at his drink. “I was thinking about inviting him to ramen, but that’s so-“

“Perfect!”

“What?”

Gai nodded enthusiastically with a bright grin on his face. “A Heartfelt Invitation to spend time with one’s friend. Truly what better way is there to spend one’s Youth than in the Rejuvenating Embrace of Friendship? And with a belly full of good food, no less! Iruka-sensei, your Intuition in the Language of Friendship is most keen!”

“Ah- Thank you?”

“Yes! You Must invite Kakashi to dine with you! It will be a Vitalizing Experience for you both! And it would do well for him to feed himself something other than ration bars, too.”

Ration bars? Sure, ration bars were basic mission fare, but Kakashi was a good chef. If one serving of leftovers was any indication. Surely, he fed himself incredibly well while he was in town.

“Well, this conversation has been Most Reassuring, but duty calls. My precious student is waiting for me to start his evening training regimen!” Gai picked up his drink and downed it with a few impressive gulps before slamming the empty glass down on the table. “Thank you very much, sensei!”

“Ah, no, thank you,” Iruka replied as Gai stood up. “You helped me, after all.”

“Oh, there is much I have to be thankful for! A friend of my friend helping my friend is always a good thing! Make sure to talk to Kakashi whenever he’s back in town!” Gai gave him a grin and a thumbs-up. “Have a good evening!”

And with that, Gai left as energetically as he had appeared.

Iruka shook his head as he turned back to the table. He ran his fingertips over the cool side of the glass. Friends, huh.

-

Kakashi left the Hokage Tower. He released a deep breath. He had only barely managed to convince Godaime that he didn’t have to go to the hospital. As a medic-nin she was a lot more diligent about such things than Sandaime ever had been. Worse yet, she was also better at seeing Kakashi’s half-assed dismissals and deflections about his health for what they were and refused to let him get away with them.

But this time, he hadn’t even been lying. He’d expended a lot of chakra, sure, but he wasn’t depleted. And his body was littered with cuts and scrapes but none of them were debilitating or required anything more than his hastily done field dressings.

This time, he was physically okay.

This time, the damage sat elsewhere.

Kakashi was nearly staggering through the streets of Konoha. It was cold in spite of everyone around him enjoying what seemed to be a warm evening. Not that Kakashi paid them much mind. He couldn’t. He was blind to most of his surroundings and the sounds of people and life and home were nothing more than noise. A buzzing in his ears. His attention lay elsewhere. With the faces of the victims that he couldn’t scrape out of his mind. His victims.

They wouldn’t leave him alone. Kakashi expected this kind of thing when he shoved his hand through the chest of an enemy with too young a face or when he spilled the blood of a person who bore a resemblance to someone he’d known. But he hadn’t done either on his last mission. There was something else there – some unidentifiable combination of variables that turned his targets into ghosts that haunted him and were going to follow him into the oppressive silence of his tiny apartment.

Kakashi was in Konoha. His legs were dragging him over cobbled streets. But he hadn’t arrived, yet. It happened like that sometimes. Everything was a mess, the mission was still there and home wasn’t. He stuck his hands into his pockets. Perhaps it was better if he found some empty training ground to burn off whatever was left in him. Maybe if he exhausted himself he was going to have no choice but to rest. Maybe that was going to chase away the ghosts for a few hours.

He nearly walked into someone, though he was barely aware of their complaint. All he could see were the horrors that he had caused. His surroundings were nothing more than a blurry haze and he wondered why he couldn’t turn that off. He wanted to turn it off. To feel normal for a change.

A hand on his shoulder.

A presence with chakra.

A kunai in Kakashi’s hand.

He whirled around and-

-held a blade to the throat of a startled Umino Iruka.

Kakashi’s eyes widened. He swallowed but his throat was dry. His hand immediately shook as all his muscles locked up and all he could do was look at Iruka’s face. Iruka looked back, eyes wide as well. He opened his mouth to speak and that action kicked Kakashi into gear. He leapt back and put distance between them as guilt rose in his throat like bile, threatening to choke him.

For a moment, Iruka and him stared at each other and Kakashi desperately tried to dislodge the lump in his throat to croak out something that was going to make this okay. But he could barely breathe and there was nothing in his head except for static and dread and he realized that Iruka was going to yell at him for this and he was going to be right to do it because Kakashi, the monster, the barely human killing machine, had almost hurt him and this fragile friendship they were building was burned to ash because that’s what Kakashi did, he burned those he touched because if they didn’t burn they were going to bleed and-

“I’m sorry,” Iruka said suddenly, cutting through Kakashi’s unforgiving thoughts. He scratched the back of his head as if embarrassed by the whole thing. As if he hadn’t just had a blade pressed against the vulnerable skin of his throat. “You’d think I’d know better than to startle a jōnin.” He was, impossibly, smiling.

Kakashi stared. He blinked. There was nothing else he could do.

So Iruka kept going. “I called your name a few times and you didn’t react,” he explained. He dropped his hand back to his side and averted his gaze. “Not that that’s an excuse, really.”

“I didn’t hear,” Kakashi said. Which was a very stupid thing to say.

“I figured,” Iruka replied and looked back at Kakashi. Or rather, Kakashi’s hand. Kakashi noticed that he was still holding the kunai in front of him, now in a defensive position. He quickly slipped it back into its holster where it damn well should have stayed to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi finally offered and he dropped his battle stance and tried to find some posture that hopefully read as nonchalant. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t realize it was you.” What a terrible excuse. No justification, at all. Whom would it have been okay to attack like that, exactly? Within Konoha’s walls? A civilian? A child?

“It’s alright,” Iruka reassured. “You weren’t responding. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Iruka was apparently insistent on putting the blame on himself. Kakashi wished he hadn’t felt so relieved about avoiding the tongue lashing he would have deserved. “Was there something you wanted before I viciously attacked you?”

“Yes, actually,” Iruka said. He smiled softly. Another impossibility. “Now might not be a good time, but I wanted to ask you if you maybe wanted to go for ramen? My treat.”

“Ramen?” Kakashi attacked a man and what it got him was an invitation to ramen? Something must have shifted the forces of karma and the relationship between actions and consequences had been changed.

“Yeah. Or something else, if you don’t like ramen. I’m fine with most things. Really, just- I still owe you a favor, you know, and I thought we could grab a bite to eat? We don’t have to. It was just an idea. Feel free to shoot me down.”

It took a moment for Kakashi to comprehend what Iruka was saying. He was inviting him because of the grocery store thing and the cookbook thing. Two things that were so mundane and domestic that Kakashi for a moment had had trouble recalling ever having done them.

The refusal sat on Kakashi’s tongue, but something stopped him from speaking it. Saying ‘no’ to things was his modus operandi whenever he was invited out. But he wanted, so desperately, to say ‘yes’. Time spent in Iruka’s company sounded incredible. An image formed in Kakashi’s mind and it was that of Iruka’s face flushed from the heat of a bowl of ramen. It felt forbidden to even think about that. Something that was not made for Kakashi but rather for someone else. Someone more deserving. Still, he wanted.

But couldn’t have it. He’d been one wrong move away from hurting, maybe even killing Iruka. And Kakashi was wrong and screwed up in so many ways. The faces haunting him that night were only the latest in a long, long line of them. And among them were others that had gotten too close, others that had invited him to things. Every step Iruka took in his direction was a step he took towards his own undoing. Kakashi knew this.

But he was a monster. And a selfish one at that.

“Ramen sounds good,” he said quietly as if the words could wrap themselves around Iruka’s throat and squeeze.

Iruka, unaware of the danger, brightened. “Right now?”

Kakashi swallowed. “Yeah, I think my stomach could stand something other than ration bars.”

“Great!” Iruka cheered. “Shall we, then?”

“Lead the way.”

Still visibly excited, Iruka reached out as if to take Kakashi’s wrist. But he froze before he made contact and dropped his hand before spinning around, facing away. Kakashi wanted to reach out and correct that atrocity of a mistake, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked beside Iruka with his hands in his pockets. After a few steps, Iruka began to fill the space between them with something else: conversation. Well, chatter, really. Iruka shared a story about what his schoolkids had done that week and a rant about his latest Mission Desk shift.

Kakashi did his best to pay attention but Iruka was just so damn emotive that Kakashi couldn’t help but observe, instead. Every emotion was displayed clearly in Iruka’s facial features and he gestured wildly with his hands to mime things he was talking about or to emphasize something. He was animated and passionate and lively.

They arrived at Ichiraku’s where Teuchi welcomed them with a smile. As they sat down at the bar, Iruka insisted that Kakashi got anything he wanted, all the bells and whistles. Drinks, too, of course. It was all on Iruka. Kakashi didn’t miss the hint of trepidation that accompanied this generous offer but since he wasn’t one to go overboard with dinner anyway, he figured it was going to be fine.

Then, he realized that he had no idea what to order. He stared at the menu on the wall and it could just as well have been written in enemy code. Kakashi had had ramen before and he knew that if in doubt, he could just pick something at random. But his mind was still up there somewhere, far away from himself, tethered to him with a string, and the decision of what to eat became an insurmountable challenge.

It was a relief, then, that Iruka ordered first and Kakashi could just copy his order – which as on-brand, at least – without having to remember what foods he enjoyed.

“So, you came back from a mission today?” Iruka asked once their orders had been placed.

Kakashi didn’t have to ask why Iruka assumed that. From his abysmal behavior to his messy appearance, there was no doubt about it. “A little while ago. I reported to Godaime directly, so you don’t have to worry about a mission report from me.”

Iruka smiled with amusement, his eyes twinkling. “Well then. Let me thank you for your hard work now since I won’t get to do it at the Desk. And welcome home, I suppose.”

Kakashi’s chest felt warm. What a pleasant, dangerous thing to be welcomed home so kindly and so easily. It gave Kakashi strange thoughts of being waited for and being wanted. Things best left unexamined. “You were telling me about your day before we came in. There was that story about- what was it again?”

“Right!” Iruka said. “The kids who tried to steal the quiz results. You wouldn’t believe how they did it…”

Kakashi believed. But above all, he listened. Iruka seemed genuinely happy to talk about his students and their antics. He was a good storyteller, too. The way he spoke was engaging and riveting. He paused sometimes to give more context, always making sure that he was understood and Kakashi found himself hanging onto his every word. The stories themselves were mundane. Truly, there shouldn’t have been anything interesting, much less suspenseful about Iruka trying to find out who had been spreading a rumor in his class. But the way Iruka talked made Kakashi want to listen for hours.

Two bowls of ramen were put down in front of them while Iruka was in the middle of telling a story about one of his administrative tasks involving a lot of spilled ink. Iruka then split his attention between regaling Kakashi with more tales and enthusiastically eating his ramen.

Kakashi was pleased to see that he had been right. The heat of the broth tinted Iruka’s face in a nice shade of red. The glow of the shop’s lights painted Iruka in more warm hues and the sight was calming and settling. Iruka looked like peace.

Kakashi forced himself to look at his own food. He prepared himself for the mad dash that was his usual experience of eating in company. But as Kakashi lowered his mask, Iruka politely kept his attention elsewhere. He didn’t try to sneak a peek. Not once.

The ramen and company allowed some more warmth to seep into Kakashi’s cold self. And he began to take a more active part in the conversation, offering more than the occasional sound of acknowledgment or surprise. Without even trying to, Iruka was coaxing stories out of Kakashi. Most of them were about Team 7. One or two were light mission stories. Iruka seemed to be terribly invested in all of them.

Between their shared words, the ramen bowls were empty far too quickly and Iruka asked whether Kakashi wanted seconds and he said ‘yes’ without hesitation even though he really didn’t need more food; because seconds meant staying longer and staying longer meant talking more and drinking in more of this warmth.

It was shocking how easy it was to stay when Kakashi was so skilled at leaving.

And so they ate more. And they traded more stories. And Iruka smiled and laughed and each moment felt stolen and precious. Time didn’t exist, the outside world didn’t either, nothing existed anymore except for this moment in Ichiraku’s.

But eventually, the second set of bowls was empty, too. Iruka and Kakashi finished their drinks. Iruka asked Kakashi to wait outside while he settled the bill and Kakashi nodded and left. It was chilly but not unpleasantly so. Kakashi looked around the darkened streets, noting the different people still milling about. He heard the drunken lilt of someone too deep in his cups being dragged home by a friend. He smelled the ramen from Ichiraku’s and the scent of the too strong cologne of a passerby. He felt the fresh air on his face. The haze was gone.

Iruka emerged beside him and they stood next to each other. For a moment, neither of them moved.

“Which way are you?” Iruka asked.

“That way,” Kakashi replied and nodded into the direction of his apartment. “Jōnin barracks.”

“I’m that way, too. At least for a couple of streets. We could walk together?” Iruka offered.

Kakashi, greedy for more of Iruka’s time, nodded. “Sure.”

There were no more words traded between them as they walked. Instead of conversation, they shared silence. But even that felt easy and companionable.

They quickly reached an intersection which brought the unfortunate realization that they had to part ways. Iruka smiled at Kakashi. “This was fun,” he said. It was something that Kakashi agreed with but never would have said so openly himself.

Kakashi felt his face heat. “It was. Thank you for the food.”

“I was only repaying a favor,” Iruka said breezily.

Something in Kakashi’s chest grew tight. Right, a favor. This had all been something that Iruka had convinced himself he needed to do in order for them to be even. And now that the dinner was had and paid for, they were done. There was nothing between them left to say. There was no reason for them to speak like this again. “I will see you around then, I guess.”

Iruka nodded. “I’m sure you will. Stay safe, Kakashi-san.”

“You too, Iruka-sensei.”

Kakashi turned in his own direction and walked home.

By the time he closed the door behind himself in his small, dark apartment, he didn’t feel quite as alone as he usually did. The silence, too, wasn’t as crushing and oppressive as he was used to it being. There was a warmth inside of him that hadn’t entirely faded the way he had expected it to. Kakashi thought about Iruka in the light of the ramen shop, cheeks pleasantly red and expression showing a radiant smile.

He placed a hand over his chest. Where there normally was something hurting with a dull ache, it now felt as if something had been lit. There was warmth in him. And nothing had been turned to ash.

Chapter Text

Present day

Kakashi and Shikamaru met with the delegation from the Land of Lightning in a designated room in the Hokage Tower. Tea was served, polite introductions were made and a comfortable atmosphere was set.

Surprisingly, there were only three guests in attendance instead of the promised five. The group’s leader, Nakai Shigeru, explained the absences after talking at length about his own credentials and thanking Kakashi profusely for his hospitality. Apparently, one of the shinobi guards hadn’t survived the trip and one of the merchants – who was also a kunoichi – had retired to her rooms early.

Kakashi asked about the incident on the road that had led to the unfortunate demise of one of the guards but held his tongue about the other absentee. Her name, Ishii Kumi, rang a bell but he couldn’t place it and he decided not to pry.

After condolences and a polite amount of empathy for the loss of a Cloud shinobi were expressed, the rest of the conversation went smoothly. Shigeru quickly established himself as he conversational leader of the delegation, hinting at offers that were a little bit outrageous – the way that pre-negotiations tended to be – and assuring Kakashi that he was very much looking forward to working out something satisfactory for both sides. The other guest – an engineer of sorts – took a passive role in the conversation and the remaining guard kept to herself as guards tended to do. It was a fine discussion in spite of the unfortunate loss the delegation had suffered.

Eventually, the meeting concluded and promises about looking forward to the next day were made.

“I want you to handle it,” Kakashi announced to Shikamaru once they were back in his office. “The trade negotiations. Are you up for it?”

Shikamaru clicked his tongue in displeasure. “It’s a drag, but I’ll do it.”

“Much appreciated,” Kakashi said. He launched the Hokage hat with practiced ease onto the couch. “I’d do it myself, but you’ve seen my schedule. They’re in town until Sunday, right?”

“Unless they extend their stay to sightsee,” Shikamaru pointed out.

“Right. I’ll try to meet with Shigeru-san to finalize things before he leaves.” Kakashi sighed as he sank into his chair. “Let’s hope they’ll make it back without another incident.”

“That encounter they talked about- You’re also thinking that it’s same group as the last few attacks, right?”

Kakashi nodded. “Most likely. I hope so, at least. One group attacking travelers is more than enough. Let’s hope Sai’s team can shed some more light on the situation.” He shook his head and lowered his gaze. “It’s a shame. None of them should have died on the way here.”

“Probably wouldn’t have if they had taken the route we recommended,” Shikamaru commented off-handedly.

“Yes, well- It happened in our territory, so it’s our responsibility. I’ll have to figure something out. Especially now that these criminals have graduated from theft to murder. For whatever reason.” Kakashi groaned and rested his forehead in his hands. “I’ll get an earful about this from the Raikage.”

“Do you want to send reinforcements for Sai’s team?”

“No. They haven’t asked for any, so I’m not too worried about them. I don’t know how capable the guards from Lightning are, but Sai’s team can handle itself.”

“I heard that Kumi-san is also very skilled,” Shikamaru pointed out. “If she was having trouble, we might have to reevaluate how dangerous this group is.”

Kakashi tilted his head. “Kumi… ah, the absent kunoichi.” He hesitated, trying once again to remember where he had heard that name before. Sure, names weren’t perfectly unique, but he had the distinct feeling that he should have been making some kind of connection. He looked at Shikamaru. “Does that name sound familiar to you?”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“Should I know?” Kakashi asked. “Shigeru-san said she’s the heiress of a silk merchant. Silk isn’t exactly a hot topic here.” Because Hidden Villages were optimized for practicality, not finery. The influx of luxury goods was a very recent phenomenon rooted in the peace forged between the elemental nations.

“She’s supposed to be legendarily beautiful,” Shikamaru explained. His tone of voice betrayed absolutely no emotion about what he was saying. “Supposedly, half the poetry from the Land of Lightning is inspired by her. Though that doesn’t seem likely.”

Something clicked into place in Kakashi’s mind. Right. A jōnin from the Land of Lightning, a fierce warrior famous for her beauty. The kind of woman that people wrote stories about due to her appearance alone. In fact, the kind of woman that Jiraiya had listed as an inspiration for one of the characters in Icha Icha Paradise.

That was why the name had sounded so dreadfully familiar.

Moreover, that also had to be the reason that Kakashi’s boyfriend was likely currently losing his mind. Because a famously beautiful kunoichi arriving in town just this day was one coincidence too many for it to not mean anything. If Kakashi was right this could very well ruin Paradise for him. And if that happened he was going to give Naruto the most dreadfully boring missions he could find for the foreseeable future – abuse of power be damned.

An especially uncomfortable knot formed in Kakashi’s chest when he thought about the implications of this for Iruka. A legendary beauty drew eyes. Not just to the person in question, but their company as well. And Iruka got upset whenever anyone tried to pry into his love life. For obvious reasons. This was not going to go over well. Kakashi fought back a surge of energy that commanded him to get up and protect. Even if there was nothing he could reasonably do.

“Right, I remember now,” Kakashi replied, wishing he could ask Shikamaru to run out and run interference on the whole impending ordeal. He didn’t meet Shikamaru’s eyes. “Strange that she wasn’t at the meeting.”

“Yeah. Then again, I guess it’s no wonder she was tired if she defended the group. But you heard Shigeru-san, she’s looking forward to meeting you. You’re still something of a celebrity abroad.”

Kakashi leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “When will my days of infamy finally come to an end?”

“Maybe when you retire, Rokudaime.”

Kakashi sighed wistfully. “If only.”

Shikamaru huffed that way he did when he was amused by something but above showing it. “Anyway, I’ll go make some preparations for tomorrow since you’re having me handle the meetings.”

“And being very appreciative of you handling them,” Kakashi added, turning his attention back to his assistant.

“Right, I’ll go take care of that, then,” Shikamaru said and excused himself before leaving.

Abandoning Kakashi with the gnawing need to hunt down Kumi and ask her directly what her intentions in the village were and whether cute Academy instructors had anything to do with it. Taking a few deep breaths as he always did when he wanted to do something reckless that was Iruka-related helped to calm his nerves. He told himself that he didn’t even have confirmation about his assumptions. And that, even if he was right, it didn’t have to mean that this was going to be any worse than any of the matchmaking dates Iruka had been tricked into before.

He didn’t quite believe that last thing.

A knock on his window drew his attention and Kakashi turned and spotted the familiar mask of Hare. He opened the window.

“Report,” Kakashi ordered.

“There’s another protest in town. It’s close by.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes. This day had already had enough going on. “Just observe it. Same procedure as usual.”

“Understood.”

Kakashi shut the window as Hare disappeared. He stared out at the streets for a moment, observing as people went about their day-to-day. He hoped that Iruka was going to be fine, no matter what awaited him that night.

-

Suddenly, it was evening.

One moment, Iruka was listening to his colleagues discuss a beautiful mystery woman from the Land of Lightning and maybe getting a little bit upset about the idea of her being in the village just to meet Kakashi and the next moment, he was tearing clothes out of the closet in his bedroom.

Iruka hadn’t had to ‘dress nice’ in a while. As a Konoha shinobi, he wore his uniform every day, which meant that he never bought fancy clothes unless he had a very specific reason to. The nicest things he owned were the suit he had worn to Naruto’s wedding – which was absolutely overkill for this situation – and the fine yukata he liked to sport at festivals – which would have been completely out of place. Aside from that, staring back at him from his closet were a row of uniform shirts and pants, a few comfortable sets of clothes to wear at home and one or two street-appropriate civilian ensembles.

Iruka simply wasn’t prepared to go somewhere that required the guests to wear something nice. Kakashi and him couldn’t be seen together in places like that and he had no reason or desire to go by himself. His last and only visit to an upscale restaurant had been in a different village before Kakashi had become Hokage. That had been a while ago. And even if the clothes from that occasion still existed, Iruka probably wasn’t going to be wearing them for sentimental reasons.

So he frantically dug around in his closet, tossing item after item onto the bed. Perhaps it was for the best if he couldn’t find anything. He wasn’t trying to actually impress anybody and there was a chance that arriving in his uniform was going to lead to him being rejected on the spot. A humiliating thing to experience in public, sure, but maybe better than the alternative.

Then again, that was only going to solidify Naruto’s perception of his incompetence at dating and incense him to help even more. Something Iruka was hoping to avoid at all costs.

He grabbed a stack of bedding and as he pulled it out of the closet, he unearthed a box he had no recollection of. He put it on the floor, opened it and – lo and behold – found ‘nice’ clothes that he vaguely recognized but couldn’t really remember buying. He discovered a light blue, patterned shirt with wide sleeves and a pair of dark grey dress pants. He put on both and looked at himself in the mirror. Feeling that the outfit was incomplete and probably a bit too light for the chilly evening air, he peered into the box again and pulled out a dark blue jacket, a haori, and put it on as well.

The fabrics of his new apparel were light and flowing. There was none of the protection and security that the tougher clothes of his uniform offered and no way to comfortably carry around weaponry. Not that he actually needed to be armed to go out for dinner. Even though he felt a bit as if he was preparing for battle.

He mustered himself in the tall bedroom mirror from different angles. It looked nice enough. It had to. There weren’t any alternatives.

He went on the hunt for shoes that matched his outfit at least somewhat. He found a pair also hidden beneath other items in his closet. Looking them over, something occurred to him. Anyone who knew him and saw him dressed like this was going to know something was going on. Maybe he could use a henge until he arrived onsite. Maybe he was overthinking things again. Maybe he should have just told Naruto ‘no’ at any point during the last few days.

He took a breath to center himself. Regrets weren’t going to get him anywhere. He abandoned his bedroom, having no time to care about its disheveled state, and placed the shoes down by the front door. Then he headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Once his hair was freshly brushed and his ponytail redone, he gave himself a final onceover in the mirror before putting on the shoes and leaving the apartment. He pulled the door shut and it sounded like something final. A point of no return.

Iruka rounded the building on the exterior walkway and headed down the stairs. The streets were moderately busy at this hour. And as soon as he caught someone glancing his way, he slipped into the next alleyway to put up a henge, feeling a bit like a coward because of it. It wasn’t going to save him from this evening or from being recognized later on, but it could at least spare him on the way there while his nerves were already rioting with the desire to turn back.

But even as he rejoined the flow of people under the guise of a nonexistent person in shinobi uniform, he thought people were looking his way. Sensors that knew him could still discern his identity, of course, but other than that, Iruka logically knew that looks cast his way were likely nothing but his own paranoia.

Iruka left behind his quiet neighborhood and made his way into the inner parts of the city. Even in disguise, he tried to keep to the less crowded streets which proved more and more difficult the closer he got to the center of Konoha. The meeting point he’d been told took him into a part of town that he almost never visited. A little ways away from the rows of restaurants and bars for civilians and shinobi alike was a street that catered to a more refined clientele. Some of its establishments were known for frequently hosting specific clan heads, others were lauded as the best places for an extravagant dinner and a few Iruka only knew of because Kakashi had had to visit them with important political guests.

As Iruka approached that street, he began to feel distinctly out of place. His eyes kept darting toward strangers and examining their clothes and the careful way in which these people presented themselves. He had to drop the henge because it was starting to look severely underdressed. But even the clothes he was actually wearing, which had looked nice on Iruka’s reflection, now seemed ill-fitting and cheap and Iruka silently cursed Naruto for putting him in this situation.

He arrived at the meeting point, a street corner in front of a bakery and tried not to meet anyone’s eyes as people passed him by. Instead, he looked at the decorated bakery window. There was a display there of extravagant model cakes with price tags containing numbers that exceeded a month’s worth of Iruka’s rent. Iruka turned away again. Naruto better be paying for this evening. Iruka was planning on not getting in trouble with his landlady for missing a payment anytime soon.

He composed himself as much as he could as he waited for his student. He worried about anyone else he knew passing by. Iruka was grateful for every face that he didn’t recognize which, so far, were all of them. Too many people in his life were going to give him a hard time if they found him here. And he was already having enough of that as it was.

There were still a few minutes until the scheduled meeting time but the discomfort of the wait made Iruka restless. He hated how exposed he was and how little he still knew about the next few hours. He held out hope that Naruto was just not going to show for some reason and the whole thing was going to be canceled.

But then his gaze caught someone who was heading into his direction, eyes locked onto him as if he was a target.

It was a woman. She was probably somewhere around Iruka’s age, maybe a few years younger. She had flawless dark skin and the blonde waves of her long hair bounced lightly with each step she took. She walked with confidence, fine rich clothing wrapped around a slim yet curvy body and swaying from side to side. The turquoise color of her clothes made her stunning green eyes glow. People made way for her, almost dazed, and heads turned as she walked past them. And she was heading straight toward Iruka.

By herself.

“Excuse me,” she said once she was within speaking distance. Her voice was pleasant and smooth. “Are you Umino Iruka-sensei?”

Iruka nodded hesitantly. “That’s me. Er, you have the advantage on me, I believe.”

Her plush, painted lips curved into a friendly smile. “You can call me Kumi. I’m a friend of Naruto-kun’s.”

From this distance, Iruka could see more details of her appearance. She had a lovely, heart-shaped face with fine features. “Nice to meet you, Kumi-san. I guess you’re the person I was waiting for.”

Her smile widened. “I guess so! I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Not at all,” Iruka replied. It sounded like his former student had learned something for once and decided not to attend himself.

“Shall we?” Kumi asked. “I’m absolutely starving.”

“Yes, let’s,” Iruka agreed.

Kumi seemed to know where to go and Iruka fell into step beside her. He understood why she was regarded the way she was. It wasn’t just her appearance. Rather, she seemed to have a special kind of presence. Like some kind of aura. Iruka felt no attraction towards her, but he regarded her in a positive light even though she had only spoken a few words to him.

And he wasn’t the only one affected by her. As they walked down the street together, people took notice of Kumi, some of them glancing at her with polite interest, others staring. Iruka felt distinctly uncomfortable whenever a gaze meant for her wandered over to him. Evaluating. Drawing conclusions.

Kumi stopped in front of a restaurant. It was a medium-sized building with a decorated exterior and even a small assortment of beautiful plants outside. No menu or signs announcing offers or anything of that kind in sight.

Kumi led Iruka inside with a smile. They were met with a quiet and refined ambience. All the furnishings looked expensive, the décor was tasteful and subtle and every guest seemed to be dressed in their best clothes. Kumi and Iruka were approached by a waitress who bowed to them and immediately seemed to know everything about their reservation without either of them having to say a word. From the sound of it, Naruto wasn’t only going to foot the bill in spite of his own absence, but he had taken care of everything else in advance, too. Iruka didn’t have the time to be baffled as the waitress led them across the main floor. Iruka took note of the dishes on several tables, finding beautiful arrangements of different ingredients in small portion sizes.

He could hardly believe that Naruto even knew of this place, let alone that he had gone ahead and planned something like this. He hadn’t even put this much thought into his own wedding. Hinata had been burdened with almost all of the preparations for that.

They arrived at a door which was when Iruka realized that not only were Kumi and him going to be dining in an upscale restaurant that looked immaculate in every way, they were going to be doing so in a private room. The waitress opened the sliding door. Inside, a low table sat in the center of the room with fine cushions placed on either side of it. There was a window looking out into a small courtyard or garden and the window pane reflected soft light and the flicker of additional candles.

Iruka felt as if he was staring into the maw of a terrible beast.

Kumi went ahead of him and, constrained by the social contract and feeling like there was no way to back out, Iruka followed. He had to consciously tell himself to walk over to the table and sit down as if he had never sat at a table before. Kumi apparently had no such qualms as she sank down onto her cushion with unmatched grace. The waitress handed them each a menu and told them something about special selections, drinks and more, which Iruka only caught half of. Eventually, she bowed to them and left and Iruka wanted to throw himself at her to keep her in the room with them. But the door shut and Kumi and Iruka were alone.

Kumi smiled as she looked around. “This is a lovely establishment,” she said.

“It is,” Iruka agreed. He didn’t know what else to say. He stared at the rose on the table between them and tried to swallow an uncomfortable lump in his throat. He hesitated before looking at Kumi.

There was this person who had come all the way from the Land of Lightning as part of a delegation to handle some political matter. She was stunning and wealthy and famous. And she was sitting in a private room with Iruka in a place that Iruka would have had to sell a kidney to afford dinner at.

It only then occurred to him that since she was technically a political guest, offending her could have serious consequences. He desperately hoped that a rejection wasn’t an offensive thing. Perhaps he should have faked an illness to get out of this, after all.

“So, Kumi-san,” he said. He cleared his throat, buying time while he tried to figure out what to say. “You’re a friend of Naruto’s?”

“Of a sort,” she replied. “I met him on a mission a little while ago and he just had this friendly air about him. I had heard of him before, of course. But it was an experience to meet him in person.”

Iruka smiled faintly at the way she spoke about Naruto. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“I don’t normally make friends on missions. But he was unique. We got along famously. He told me a lot about this village and its people. Naturally, I got curious. So when a delegation was being put together, I asked to join. When I wrote Naruto about it, he seemed to be overjoyed.”

That explained some things, at least. “So you’re here on a political mission?”

She inclined her head. “You could call it that. I’m in the textile industry. My father’s business, you understand. We’ve been looking to expand across borders.” She eyed him. “And aside from that, I am very interested in all the local sights.”

Her words were laced with unmistakable interest and Iruka averted his eyes as something heavy sat in his gut. “So you’re a merchant, as well as a kunoichi?” he asked in an effort to steer clear of anything that could be misconstrued as flirtation.

“A merchant by birthright, a kunoichi by choice, you could say.”

At least that gave Iruka something he could pursue. Shop talk felt like safe ground. “It’s honorable to choose the path of a shinobi when you could have lived a very comfortable and much safer life. What made you pursue it?”

Kumi’s eyes lit up. Iruka had picked the right question to ask.

She dove into the subjects of her career and her skills with enthusiasm. She spoke about the freedom she felt on the field, about the excitement of learning new skills and about the importance of protecting her home. She explained a few of her favored techniques, but no matter what she spoke about, she never seemed to be bragging. And she asked Iruka questions in kind. She revealed herself to be a jōnin but didn’t frown or deflate when Iruka told her his own rank. She told non-classified mission stories and some tales from her textile business. When Iruka talked about his own work at the Academy, she seemed genuinely interested. She laughed at his stories and replied with her own about her unruly younger sisters.

During their conversation, they ordered and ate their food – which was delicious but Iruka definitely would have preferred a bigger portion size – and drank pricey wine. Eventually, Kumi excused herself to the restroom and Iruka picked up his glass with a smile. Kumi had just told a great story about the Raikage and Iruka absolutely had return the favor with a retelling of one of Kakashi’s earliest days as Hokage. There were plenty of stories that weren’t going to reveal anything about the two of them. Maybe the one where-

Iruka froze. His glass nearly slipped out of his hand. What was he doing?

Kumi was friendly and a good conversationalist. She had interesting stories and she knew fascinating things about the textile trade. Talking to her pleased the social creature in Iruka. The part of him that liked meeting people and learning about them and making friends. It was no hardship. It wasn’t uncomfortable or terrible. It was fun.

Iruka was a having a good time.

The realization hit him like a slap and left him with an intense sensation of guilt. He put down the glass. This wasn’t a date. Not to him, at least. But the setting was inherently romantic, Kumi had probably been promised romantic things by Naruto and Iruka began feeling vaguely nauseous at the idea that he’d been enjoying their time together regardless. He was deceiving her. And, maybe worse, he was betraying Kakashi.

He felt like he was cheating.

His gut clenched. Here he was, having a great time, chatting and drinking and being social. While Kakashi was still working his ass off to serve Konoha. Alone in his office, probably with cold takeout food if anything to eat at all. Or perhaps he was already waiting in Iruka’s apartment. All by himself. Like a forlorn puppy. With no plans of his own because his evening plans were ‘Iruka’. They were always ‘Iruka’.

Iruka had gotten dressed up for Kumi and all Kakashi ever saw him in was his uniform or lounge wear. Iruka was out here in a fancy restaurant with a stranger when Kakashi and him were restricted to Iruka’s apartment. Iruka had had a relaxed dinner in a private room with a friendly person and Kakashi spent his evenings in elaborate schemes to ditch his guards just so that he could see Iruka for a little while.

Iruka felt his heart beating harshly in his chest, felt heat stinging at his eyes. He got choked up. It almost would have been better if Kumi had been a terrible person. Or extremely unpleasant, at least. Or maybe if Naruto had been there as an unnecessary chaperone to make the whole thing an awkward ordeal. Then, Iruka could have had a miserable time and gone home and complained to Kakashi and Kakashi could have laughed at Naruto’s antics before hugging Iruka and kissing him and promising him that it was all over. But that wasn’t going to happen. Because this wasn’t unpleasant. It was almost like a real date.

It was Iruka’s fault, too. He should have told Kumi that it had all been a big misunderstanding the moment they had met. Or insisted that they go to a casual place. Or done anything at all that wasn’t ‘just going with it’.

What did it say about him that he had been so willing to go along with all of this?

Why had he?

The door opened and Kumi entered the room. “There’s this cute young couple out there,” she said as she closed the door behind herself. “You can just tell they’re both about to explode from nerves.”

“I’ve been there,” Iruka commented, glad that his voice didn’t betray his inner turmoil.

Kumi sat down again. “Who hasn’t?” she countered, amused. She picked up her wine glass. “I almost wanted to go over there and help out.” She laughed.

Iruka managed a smile.

Kumi’s faltered in response. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, I’m good,” Iruka lied and forced a bigger smile before looking away entirely. “Just had a thought, that’s all.”

Kumi hummed. She trailed one finger over the side of her wine glass. “Can’t have been a good one,” she observed.

“Forgive me,” Iruka said, unsure of what else to say. “I didn’t mean to put a damper on things. I’m not the best, er…”

“-date?” she offered.

He hesitated. She smirked.

“Don’t worry, Iruka-sensei. I can read the room.” She sighed and leaned back. She looked at her glass and moved it in circles, the wine lapping up against the sides as she did so. “And as much as I’d rather not, I can certainly take a hint. You’re not interested.” She looked at him intently.

Iruka flushed in embarrassment. “That’s not- You’re very beautiful and nice and I-“

Kumi held up her free hand to stop his rambling. “It’s alright. I bet Naruto-kun didn’t even tell you about me, did he?”

Iruka deflated. “Not really. He just told me to make time and ‘dress nice’. I had a hunch but… I didn’t know about you, specifically.”

She laughed. “Well, you did what he asked.” Then she sighed. “Just my luck that a kind and intelligent man like you isn’t interested.”

Iruka frowned. “I truly am sorry. I’ve wasted your time.”

“Have you? We had good food and good conversation. I don’t need the evening to end with a kiss to have a good time. Besides, what kind of person would I be if I couldn’t handle a little rejection?”

Iruka relaxed a bit at that. “If I may ask, just what made you agree to meet me? What did Naruto say to you?”

“Just that you were a kind and great person that I absolutely had to meet. To be fair, he didn’t lie.”

Iruka looked at the table. “For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed our conversation,” he admitted and the guilt in his chest flared at the reminder.

“So did I. You’re an interesting person, Iruka-sensei. And I hope you find someone special.” She gave him a keen look. “If you haven’t, already.”

Iruka’s eyebrows raised a fraction but he kept his expression carefully neutral as he regarded her. He tried not to think about the light this painted him in. That, if she knew he had someone, she also knew that he was here with her in spite of it. “Thank you.”

Kumi just smirked as if she had told a joke he hadn’t heard. Then she downed the rest of her wine. “I think it’s about time we call it a night, don’t you?”

-

Kakashi hung up one of Iruka’s shirts.

He hadn’t expected the apartment to be empty by the time he arrived, but he hadn’t exactly been surprised either, given Iruka’s predicament. He had made sure to be there for Iruka this particular evening as emotional support and for Iruka to have someone to vent his frustrations to. So when he’d arrived to a dark and empty apartment, he had let himself in to wait. That’s when he had found Iruka’s bedroom in disarray after what appeared to have been a tough battle against the closet. Hopefully Iruka had won.

Knowing him, Kakashi had a solid assumption of what exactly had transpired in this room to turn it into such a mess. He also had a hunch that Iruka was going to chide him for tidying. But he didn’t mind. Tidying and organizing could be meditative as long as the mess wasn’t too egregious. Kakashi had learned the merits of an organized space when he had been very young and it had turned him into a person who was somewhat meticulous about these things. Maybe that’s why the unyielding stacks of paperwork in the office bothered him so much. But getting those out of the way required a whole new filing system which demanded time that he didn’t have. But some clothes, he could do.

Kakashi put the last item of clothing on a hanger and shut the closet.

He took a look around the room and straightened out the slightly messy bedsheets for good measure before going to the living room. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to have to wait so he sat down on the cushion by the chabudai and picked up his latest romance novel. It was serviceable but nothing compared to the masterpiece that was Icha Icha. Oh, how he hoped that tonight’s events weren’t going to ruin Icha Icha. After half a page, Kakashi began to space out. Which actually had very little to do with the quality of the literature. Or lack thereof.

He sighed and closed the book. It seemed that reading wasn’t going to work. His thoughts kept drifting off to Iruka, pointing out that he still wasn’t home and questioning when he was going to return. It was a little pathetic.

Kakashi wondered whether he was jealous. He wasn’t usually a jealous person. Iruka had proven multiple times how committed he was to Kakashi – no matter how questionable a decision that was. Kakashi had no reasons to doubt his loyalty or anything of the sort.

Though he had, a while ago, realized that if Iruka ever found someone else he wanted to be with, Kakashi was going to let him go without a fuss. Even if the mere thought of it hurt like hell. Their relationship put Iruka in a complicated situation every day. Kakashi was arguably the worst choice in all of Konoha for him to have a comfortable relationship with. So if Iruka ever found someone else he wanted and could have something simpler with, Kakashi wasn’t going to stand in the way. He cared too much about Iruka’s happiness to stand in its way.

Iruka would have had some choice words for him for even thinking about it, but Kakashi couldn’t help it. Still, he didn’t see Iruka’s date – most likely this foreign kunoichi – as competition.

What there was, however, was envy. Kakashi envied Kumi. He envied all the things she could do that he couldn’t. Like going on a date with Iruka like it was nothing. Walk alongside him in public. Sit with him at a table in some restaurant in plain view of everyone. She could even touch him if she wanted to, at least in the eyes of the public.

Kakashi hadn’t been the best partner lately. ‘Lately’ covering a long stretch of time. He always visited in the evenings or late at night, only stayed a few hours and then left. It wasn’t fair to Iruka.

Footsteps sounded outside. The lock of the front door rattled.

For a split second, Kakashi imagined Iruka entering with a woman in tow, both of them giggling. So maybe he was a little jealous, after all.

Bad Kakashi. No.

Kakashi got up to meet Iruka at the door, happy to see him – and just him – sliding off his shoes. Iruka was even dressed up in formal wear. And he looked incredible. Blue was a very good color on him, it complimented him well. The cut of the clothing – although loose because of the haori – somehow accentuated his relatively broad shoulders and made him look imposing. He was handsome. Gorgeous. He must have outshone anyone around him. There was no way Kumi hadn’t paled in comparison.

“Wow,” Kakashi said appraisingly. “You look great.”

Iruka looked up and just stared at him for the moment. He looked tense and his expression was troubled. A bad matchmaking date, then. Iruka looked away as he stepped further into the hallway. “Naruto made me dress up.”

“Guess I should thank Naruto then,” Kakashi quipped, trying to lift Iruka’s spirits.

But Iruka didn’t tease back. He didn’t even smile. Bad sign. Very bad sign. “Well, he did it so that I would have a decent chance at dating someone else, so maybe you shouldn’t be too hasty with your thanks.” He walked past Kakashi straight towards the bedroom.

“Right. Yes,” Kakashi agreed, a little dumbfounded by Iruka’s behavior. He followed him and leaned against the doorway of the bedroom as he observed Iruka looking around. Clearly, Iruka was bothered by something. But normally he would have been ranting about it or seeking comfort. He was doing neither. “So, er, how was it?”

Iruka inspected the bed but he didn’t mention anything about Kakashi tidying the space. He moved on to his closet. “It was really nice, actually. She was lovely. A good conversationalist. Well-read and witty and all that stuff.”

Okay. Ouch. Perhaps Kakashi could muster yet a little more jealousy. He didn’t know how to respond to that and before he could figure it out, Iruka continued.

“And she’s beautiful, too. She even has a reputation for it, you know. Her name is Kumi. She’s smart and confident. We had a good time.” Iruka produced a new set of sleepwear from the closet.

Kakashi swallowed something uncomfortable. He reminded himself that his boyfriend not having an awful time was a good thing. Even though he felt that there was more to this situation that he wasn’t quite piecing together. Had Kakashi fucked up something without even realizing it? “Well. That’s good.”

“That’s good?” Iruka whirled around to face him, voice sharp and venomous and eyes dark with anger. “That’s all you have to say? That’s good?!”

Kakashi stared. “… isn’t it?”

“Aren’t you mad? Or jealous? I went out without you!”

Kakashi blinked. He was clearly being accused of something but whether it was due to his lack of social skills or something else, he couldn’t figure out what it was. “… do I have a reason to be jealous?”

Iruka glared. “How can you ask me that?!”

“I wasn’t going to! But then you-“ Kakashi shook his head. “What am I supposed to be saying here?” he asked.

“Maybe something about your boyfriend going on dates with people that aren’t you! What, are you just going to dutifully wait here at home while I have a grand time with someone else?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know! Something! Doesn’t this bother you?!”

Kakashi grimaced. He looked aside. “Of course it bothers me.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t act like it. You act like it doesn’t matter at all.”

“It does,” Kakashi assured quickly, hands raised in a placating gesture. “It matters.” He tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at these things. “It bothers me because I want to go with you. And I know that you went to keep our secret. It’s not your fault that it’s that way. Do you want me to be mad at you for something that’s not your fault?”

Iruka opened his mouth. He closed it. His shoulders sunk. “No,” he said, more subdued. “No, of course not.”

Kakashi took a tentative step closer. “Good. I don’t want to be mad at you, either. And I’m not.”

Iruka just kept frowning at his feet.

“Would you rather be with her right now?” Kakashi probed.

Iruka’s head snapped up. “Absolutely not. You know that.”

“So I have nothing to be jealous of.” Even if he was. A little.

Iruka searched his face. For a moment there was silence. Then Iruka stepped forward and closed the rest of the distance between them. He leaned into Kakashi’s body and rested his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, that was awful of me. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Kakashi immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him close, taking in the warmth and the weight of him. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Iruka insisted. “You’re here, being perfect and comforting and I just- ugh.”

“Well, I accept your apology. There. No more ‘ugh’.”

Iruka sighed. A moment passed in which they simply held each other. “It felt like cheating,” Iruka muttered eventually, voice small and vulnerable.

“It wasn’t,” Kakashi assessed with a neutral tone.

“But it felt like it!” Iruka pulled away a little to meet Kakashi’s eyes while staying in the circle of his arms. “I was out there enjoying myself while you were here or in the office and it just- it feels awful.”

Kakashi smiled softly at him and raised a hand to cup his cheek. “It’s not like I’m trapped here. I could go if I wanted to. Sure, I can’t have the pleasure of going on meaningless fake dates with random people Naruto picked out for me. But I honestly don’t feel like I’m missing out.”

“It’s just- I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be fun. It was a date with another person. It was supposed to be bad. With Naruto’s track record, comically bad. But then it wasn’t. And it makes me feel like a bad partner. How can I enjoy a date with someone who isn’t you?”

“Maybe because it wasn’t a date? If you actually went out with someone with the intention of romancing them, we’d be having a different conversation. But it sounds like you just made a friend. I’m happy if my boyfriend has friends. Even if the means of finding them are… unconventional.”

Iruka stared at him for a long, long moment and Kakashi wondered if he’d actually fucked up this time. “You’re really one of a kind, you know that?”

Kakashi chuckled. “I hope that’s a good thing.” He pulled Iruka back close to rest his head on his shoulder again.

“It is. Although I should really be comforting you. I went out without you and then I yelled at you and now you’re the one comforting me.”

“If it helps, I find touching you to be greatly comforting,” Kakashi admitted with a slightly hot face.

Iruka hummed. “I guess it’s okay then.” A moment passed. “You know, Kumi-san was incredibly gracious about me rejecting her? I felt awful for her, too. I practically led her on.”

Kakashi could hear the guilt and exhaustion in Iruka’s voice. “Iruka, love, maybe it’s time to tell Naruto to stop? Clearly, he’s not getting the hint. I know he means well, but I think it’s safe to say that this is becoming a problem.”

Iruka groaned and buried his face in Kakashi’s shirt. “I know. But I haven’t figured out how to tell him I’m not interested in his ‘help’ without inviting a million other questions.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Kakashi assured. “You’re a teacher, don’t they pay you to dodge uncomfortable questions?”

Iruka laughed into Kakashi’s shoulder. “I changed my mind. You’re awful. You’re not taking this seriously, at all.”

It sounded like Iruka was smiling and that made Kakashi smile, too. It seemed that everything was going to be alright, after all. “Maa, you seem to have taken things a little too much to heart today. One of us needs to keep it light. I’ll take on the responsibility. You know, for the team.”

Iruka snorted.

He paused and then he turned his head so his face was turned toward the crook of Kakashi’s neck, hot breath ghosting over it. “Such dedication… maybe that ought to be rewarded.”

Kakashi nearly shivered. “Rewarded?”

“Yes,” Iruka replied and his voice was deeper and full of promise. “I’d really like to reward you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well,” Iruka said as he leaned back to look into Kakashi’s eyes again. The look in Iruka’s eyes was focused and intense. They looked into Kakashi’s, then at his lips. “We can’t go to fancy restaurants together, but there’s plenty we can do right here.”

“I do have some ideas,” Kakashi said playfully, tugging Iruka a bit closer so their bodies were pressed more firmly against each other. “I didn’t get to see you put on this nice outfit, only seems fair that I get to see you take it off.”

Iruka smirked, his hands began to wander. “I couldn’t agree more.” Iruka dove in and captured Kakashi’s lips in a searing kiss.

Chapter Text

In the past …

Whenever Iruka thought about his dinner with Kakashi, he found himself smiling. He replayed those memories over and over again. The way Kakashi had listened to him with rapt attention. The way he had shared a few stories – hesitant at first, then slowly with more ease. And the way his eye had glinted in the warm light of Ichiraku’s.

It was only a matter of time before one of his colleagues at the Tower caught him smiling at nothing and asked him about it, smirking as if expecting some juicy information.

Iruka froze and clutched his stack of papers more tightly. Caught off-guard, he almost told the truth. But he faltered and stopped himself. Kakashi had – for some reason – cultivated the reputation of an unapproachable, cold, lazy asshole that was terrible company at best. Even though Iruka could only guess as to why, compromising this image would have been a betrayal. So, instead, he offered up a small innocuous falsehood, saying that he’d been remembering something a student had done.

But as soon as he’d uttered the lie, something in his chest crumpled. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm was going off, calling for his caution. He hastily retreated from the situation and made off to an empty closet.

It took him a moment to place the sinking feeling in combination with the alarm, but once he identified it, he grimaced to himself. Ever since his former best friend’s fūma shuriken had embedded itself in Iruka’s back, a finger’s breadth away from his spine, Iruka had developed a rocky relationship with trust and friendships.

Shortly after the incident, he’d begun to question everything. Because if Mizuki had hidden such a cruel side of himself for so long, anyone else could have been hiding something equally horrid. Or something even worse, maybe. Betrayal had made Iruka question his friends. Even though they had been the ones who had tried to help him mend his wounds and had let him cry and scream in rage and sorrow at them. He’d questioned their motives and actions and they’d braved it with kindness and loyalty.

Recently, Iruka had spent time with Kakashi, making him an outlier to Kakashi’s antisocial behavior. And now, he had lied to cover for him. Arguably, to cover for his shitty behavior to everyone else. And he was forced to question that, too.

The way the scar in the center of Iruka’s back ached called for him to be wary.

After all, Kakashi had much better aim than Mizuki could have ever hoped to achieve.

But unlike Mizuki, Kakashi had absolutely nothing to gain from pretending to befriend him unless he just got some sick sense of enjoyment out of it. And shady as Kakashi was, Iruka just didn’t see it. Not that he had seen the truth about Mizuki before it had been too late.

Iruka shook his head. He’d learned that those thoughts weren’t productive. So he tried for some objectivity. Objectively, if Kakashi was trying to gain Iruka’s trust or to play with him, he was pretty bad at it. Much worse than anyone who worked in covert operations had any reason to be. After their dinner, they had seen each other in the street a few times. Kakashi never endeavored to speak to him for more than a quick greeting. He didn’t ask Iruka for more of his time and he didn’t bring up their dinner. He didn’t sling his arm around Iruka’s shoulders to walk him to the next restaurant or bar – the way Mizuki had often done. He didn’t go out of his way to meet Iruka or to avoid him. And hell, their one dinner had been Iruka’s suggestion, one that Kakashi had been visibly reluctant to accept.

If that had been a taste of Kakashi’s attempt to gain a target’s trust, he did not deserve anyone calling him ‘elite’.

The thought of Kakashi clumsily trying to insert himself into Iruka’s life and being terrible at it made Iruka smile again. It was so ridiculous, so silly, that he couldn’t help but huff out a breath in amusement.

The thing was, and Iruka had learned this too, he was never going to be sure until he tried it. It was what he told his pre-genin. If they got hurt from handling a weapon they had to let the wound heal and try again. And how he yearned to try ‘friendship’ with Kakashi. If the past few weeks had been glimpses into what that could be, Iruka wanted him as a part of his life.

Unfortunately, making friends as an adult wasn’t nearly as easy as it had been in his childhood. He couldn’t crack a joke, make someone laugh and decide to be friends forever because of it. Adult friendships took baby steps. A next dinner seemed like a reasonable one.

Smile back in place and mind made up, Iruka was determined to ask Kakashi to get something to eat the next time they saw each other.

Unfortunately, that proved to take a while. The early days of May passed and the temperature began to rise and so did Iruka’s frustration. Kakashi’s and his chance encounters had been extremely rare before but now that he needed one of them, they were practically nonexistent.

It didn’t take a genius to understand why that was. Without having to watch over a team of rambunctious genin, Kakashi was being sent out of the village a lot.

A lot.

Kakashi’s regular visits to the Mission Desk – where he was a repeat offender of barely legible reports – hadn’t really given away just how little time he actually spent inside the protective walls of Konoha. It wasn’t something Iruka had ever really concerned himself with, but now that he did, he imagined that the regular Mission Desk hauntings in addition to missions issued directly by Godaime herself probably added up to a schedule that didn’t leave much in the way of breathing room.

The village was short on shinobi. This was a recurring and frequent issue, but recent events had turned things from difficult to critical. A lot of people had fallen alongside Sandaime during Orochimaru’s attack. And training new soldiers to take their place, especially ones ready to act somewhat independently, took quite a while. As Iruka could personally attest to.

The shortage wasn’t a secret, either. It was a constant all-hands-on-deck-situation. Iruka himself took on some weekend missions to help out. Of course, he couldn’t do much with his limited time – courier jobs or quick escort missions for the most part. But such things needed to get done too and if it freed up actual field shinobi to tackle bigger issues, Iruka was more than happy to contribute. Everyone in Konoha had to do their part. Sandaime had told him as much several times and it still held true, especially in a situation like this. But seeing how frequently Kakashi was absent made Iruka wonder just how big of a part he’d been allotted.

It made him worry.

The realization came to him one sunny afternoon in the middle of May. Spring was exhaling its last breath into the approaching summer and if the sun already beating down on them was any indication, it was going to be a hot one.

Just after he’d formed this thought of worry, Iruka stopped in his tracks. Kakashi was standing by the village gate. He was quite a ways away but Iruka noticed a backpack on his back. And, of course, the stupid orange book in Kakashi’s hand. Kakashi had his face almost buried between the pages. He could just as well have been wearing a sign around his neck that read ‘don’t talk to me’.

But Iruka was almost as good at ignoring instructions as he was at following them. Actually, maybe he was even better at that. So he approached. His resolve was bolstered by those memories, by each interaction that had revealed Kakashi to be a much kinder individual than Iruka ever would have thought.

Judging by the size of Kakashi’s backpack, he was probably going to be gone for a few days at least. Hesitancy crept in in spite of Iruka’s best efforts – was it a good idea to disturb someone who was clearly about to head out on a mission? But if he didn’t, Kakashi was going to return without him knowing and they were maybe going to say a few words in passing if they happened to meet and then Kakashi was going to leave again and eventually that cycle was going to end with them not even acknowledging each other anymore.

Iruka wasn’t going to let that happen.

The afternoon sun was a good look on Kakashi. It made him look softer and more approachable than he probably ever wanted to be. In spite his nose being buried in the orange book, he noticed Iruka’s approach.

“Yo, Iruka-sensei,” he greeted casually without looking up.

“Hello, Kakashi-san. Are you headed out?” Iruka asked. He immediately wanted to kick himself for asking such a stupid question.

But Kakashi just hummed in approval. “Just waiting on something.”

“I see. Got a long mission?” Iruka eyed the backpack.

Kakashi peered over the edge of his book. “I can’t tell you any specifics.”

Iruka felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Of course. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to. I just- I guess I thought I’d see you off.”

Kakshi looked at him for a long moment. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything, Iruka kept talking.

“I also thought that maybe we could grab ramen again when you get back. Whenever that is. Or some other kind of dinner. Or lunch. Food, in general. I can do breakfast. Just not on a school day, obviously,” he rambled.

Kakashi’s eye widened and his book snapped shut. “We can do that.”

“Good.” Iruka smiled, relieved. “But I’m not paying this time! That is, I will pay for my own food, of course.” He grimaced. He’d tried for ‘teasing’ and it had tipped over into ‘hostile’ instead.

But Kakashi didn’t appear to be put off. He looked amused. “Of course, sensei. I’m looking forward to it.”

Just as Iruka was about to reply, something landed beside him. He turned to find Pakkun on the ground, looking between Kakashi and him. “Oh, Pakkun-san.”

“Oh, hey kid. Long time no see.”

“What did she say?” Kakashi asked.

“She says your request has been granted. And she also wanted me to tell you that if you’re summoning me for this, you’re bound to end up chakra depleted again.”

That was a very concerning way of phrasing that, in Iruka’s opinion.

Kakashi rolled his eyes – eye? – and put his book in his back pouch. “Thanks for handling it.” He looked back at Iruka. “Well, I gotta go.”

“Of course. Do your best and return safely,” Iruka said.

Kakashi gave him a single nod and a wave before taking off into the trees outside the wall, Pakkun at his side. Iruka watched for a moment as they left, smiling to himself. Then he turned to head back into the village.

“What was that about?” Kotetsu asked as Iruka walked past him and Izumo in the guard station. “What did you tell him?”

Iruka paused. “I just informed him that he was going to have to redo his last mission report when he gets back. You know how his reports are.”

Kotetsu winced and Izumo frowned. Whether they empathized with Kakashi or him, Iruka wasn’t sure.

-

Kakashi was going to meet up with Iruka again.

It was a pleasant thought. A comfortable thought. A thought that made its home in Kakashi’s head and rekindled the warmth in Kakashi’s chest, tending to it like one would have to a hearth. Did Iruka know just how much of an effect his words had had? Probably not.

Kakashi held onto those words as he traveled through and then out of the Land of Fire, first alongside Pakkun, then without him.

He remembered them as he set foot into the Land of Frost, combatting the harsh winds that felt like ice shards driving themselves into his skin. He clung to them as he found and scouted the missing-nin hideout he’d been instructed to locate and as he spotted the stolen scroll that contained vital Konoha intelligence. He almost forgot them as his hand found its way thrust into the chest of the leader of the missing-nin, birds chirping loudly in the cold, abandoned buildings that served as a criminal base of operations. The words seemed so distant as Kakashi uncovered the frozen corpses of two comrades and put them into a storage scroll like cargo. They were nearly gone by the time Kakashi realized that he’d poked the hornet’s nest as an unexpected wave of reinforcements was upon him.

They were silent as his pursuers followed him well into the Land of Fire. He cut down their numbers mercilessly and with cruel efficiency, but he’d drawn on his reserves too much to engage them all and survive. He was fortunate that his enemies failed to cooperate with each other effectively. But each of them was strong in their own right and Kakashi couldn’t risk dying at their hands. Not with the precious intel on his person and the fallen comrades he had to bring home. Not with the dinner or lunch or breakfast that he still had to attend.

He was running on fumes those last few hours and in the end, he wasn’t even sure how he made it back, except that there had been something deep inside of him, a warmth, a magnet, pulling and pulling and pulling him back home. And so, eventually, he was surrounded by buildings and he had paved streets under his feet and as he stumbled forward, he realized that he’d made it back. Mission complete.

He was on his back suddenly, looking up at the sky, and there was darkness creeping into the edge of his vision as voices began to call out and shout around him. He was familiar with this darkness. A void, that called and beckoned to him. That asked him to succumb and let go.

It made him crave some kind of peace that normally seemed so far from his mind. It made him want to give in.

And he wanted to close his eyes and rest because surely it was time to when he felt so heavy. But he remembered that he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t, because Iruka wanted to eat ramen with him again. And Kakashi had said they were going to do that. He couldn’t go back on his word. If they went for ramen, maybe Iruka was going to smile at him again. Maybe that was going to keep that warmth in his chest alive for a little while longer.

“Are you with me, Kakashi-sensei?”

Huh. Someone was talking to him, he was pretty sure. But his vision was blurry and all he could make out was a moving shape. But the clean smell of disinfectant reminded him of a medic. Was he in the hospital again? That wasn’t good. He had to get ramen with Iruka and the hospital didn’t have ramen.

“Kakashi-sensei? Can you hear me? You’ve lost a lot of blood, but you’re going to be okay, alright?”

Kakashi tried to say something in return, but his tongue was heavy and useless and no part of his body wanted to cooperate with his mind.

“He’s conscious. Somewhat. I can’t understand you, Kakashi-sensei, but you’re safe now. It’s going to be okay.”

Kakashi grimaced and tried again. He focused on trying to form words but even to his own ears it was barely understandable.

The medic-nin above him paused. “Did you- Did you say something about ramen?”

Kakashi just smiled, pleased somehow that something had been understood, that something vital had been passed along and everything slowly went dark.

He woke up sometime later in the hated confines of a hospital bed.

Moments after he opened his eyes, a concerned and annoyed Godaime was at his bedside, sharing his diagnosis. Chakra exhaustion, of course, as well as an array of other wounds that had cost him a decent amount of blood. After she had sufficiently voiced her displeasure over his condition, she still thanked him for his efforts and informed him that a group had been dispatched for cleanup, which included dealing with the remaining enemies. She also wanted a full report as soon as he was able to make one. But for the time being, he was to prioritize staying in bed and resting.

Kakashi frowned deeply as he watched her walk out. But since he could barely move he resigned himself to staying for a little while. He tried to fall asleep again and generally to sleep as much as possible, mostly because the alternative was being extremely bored. Gai came by to go on about ‘Youth’ and ‘Devotion’ and ‘Please don’t overdo it, Rival’ which Kakashi in equal parts appreciated and felt overwhelmed by. Sakura also made an appearance at his bedside as a medic and a friend. She chided him which made Kakashi wonder whether chiding patients was covered in Tsunade’s curriculum. She also left him a fruit basket and a book.

He only managed to read one page before his eyes decided it was time for his vision to be too blurry to make out any characters. So, instead, he busied himself with a lot of staring at the walls, the door or the window. Unfortunately, from his vantage point, all he could see through the window was the sky. Which was pleasant in a way, sure, but not nearly as interesting as observing people.

On the second day of his hospital stay, there was a surprise. And it was Iruka-shaped.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Iruka said as he closed the door behind himself quietly.

“Well, you are interrupting a particularly fascinating round of ‘staring at the wall’, but I think I can make some time for you.”

“Ah.” Iruka stood there for a moment as if Kakashi was going to bite him if he dared to approach.

“You know, you can come closer. I couldn’t attack you if I wanted to.”

The comment seemed to surprise Iruka who accepted the invitation. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “I heard some of what happened through some rumors. I guess it’s pointless to ask how you’re feeling.”

Kakashi managed a half-hearted shrug. “Bored, mostly. Everything else is drowned out by painkillers.”

“Right. Well, this isn’t how I imagined seeing you again.”

“Mmh, thought about seeing me a lot, did you, sensei?” Kakashi said and he immediately wanted to take it back. So the painkillers definitely impacted his filter. Whoops. But also: good to know.

Iruka blushed. What a stunning thing to be staring at instead of the wall. “Hardly. But I did tell you to come back safe and this is what you do? Seriously, whom am I going to eat ramen with now? You can’t even lift chopsticks like this.”

Right. Ramen. Ramen had been important. Kakashi couldn’t really remember how he’d come back to Konoha, but somehow the mention of ramen reminded him of his return home. “I guess you could feed me,” Kakashi offered because the filter was still off and because he might as well while he could blame things on medication.

Iruka’s flush deepened. “You’re impossible!”

Kakashi hummed. “Tsunade-sama would agree with you there.”

“Well. Good! She’s right.”

“I guess you’ll have to find someone else to go with,” Kakashi said. Much like the teasing, he hadn’t really made the conscious decision to say it. It had just come out. But lying there, barely able to do anything, he wasn’t going to join anyone for dinner, lunch or breakfast anytime soon. And it wasn’t like this was a one time occurrence, either. If Iruka was going to wait for the next time Kakashi was able and available, there was a decent chance this same thing was going to happen again. Infinite rainchecks. Iruka deserved better than that. He deserved better than Kakashi’s company in general. Iruka had heard some of what had happened, maybe, but he didn’t know the truth. Right now, Kakashi’s hands were too weak to hold chopsticks, but maybe hands that had killed so many weren’t quite made for holding chopsticks in a ramen shop in the company of someone like Iruka, anyway.

The anger faded from Iruka’s expression immediately. “Why? You’re not dying, are you?”

“Not unless the medic-nin haven’t had the guts to tell me.”

“Then I can just wait,” Iruka said incredulously. “I wasn’t expecting you to be available the second you got home. Rest up. Heal. I’m sure that Teuchi-san isn’t going to quit in the next few days.”

“I might be sent out again when I’m rested.”

Iruka looked at him for a moment, seemingly contemplating something. “Then I’ll wait out your next mission, too. I’m not going anywhere either.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know, you don’t need to say ‘yes’ to me to be polite. If you don’t want to go someplace with me, I’d rather you be honest about it.”

Kakashi shook his head. “No, that’s- I meant what I said. I want to go.”

Iruka’s face relaxed and he smiled. “Then we’ll go. As soon as you’re able to, whenever that is. I don’t mind waiting.” He hesitated. “That’s how shinobi friendships work, after all.”

Friendship. Kakashi smiled back at him.

“But you do have to get better first. So rest up.”

Kakashi sighed as his head sank a bit deeper into the pillow. “I’ll try.”

At least now he had a good reason to do his best in that regard.

Chapter Text

Present day

That night, Kakashi spent some hours pressed into the soft sheets of Iruka’s bed.

Every touch made sparks dance along his skin, every brush of the lips stole his breath away and each wave of intense pleasure cast aside another thought until all of Kakashi’s mind was encompassed by Iruka. Their intense longing and deep affections for one another fueled each shared second and let everything outside the room become distant and unimportant. All that mattered was flushed and heated skin meeting skin, soft moans and whispers and that look in Iruka’s eye that made Kakashi feel like the most loved person in the world.

After their intimacy reached its climax, leaving both of them pleasantly tired and boneless, they lay beside each other on those soft sheets. Kakashi watched Iruka as he battled the heaviness of his eyelids. But eventually, the battle was lost. His body relaxed even further, his breathing slowed and he fell asleep. Kakashi watched for a few more stolen moments, trailing his eyes over Iruka’s moonlit, glistening skin and observing how his chest rose and fell in the calm pattern of rest. A strand of hair was plastered against Iruka’s forehead, threatening to fall across his closed eyes, and Kakashi reached out to brush it back. His fingertips ghosted along a temple and gently traced over the shell of an ear. Then, he leaned over slowly and pressed a single, lingering kiss onto his lover’s forehead before he submitted himself to his obligations and forced himself to get out of bed.

He had to resist the bed’s magnetic pull as he reluctantly walked over to Iruka’s dresser on silent feet. He opened one of his drawers, careful not to make too much noise, before pulling out a pair of clean underwear. He collected his discarded clothes from the floor, tossing his old underwear into the hamper and hanging everything else over his arm before he made his way to the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the lights. There was only time for a quick wipe down with a wet cloth, but that suited him just fine since he wasn’t about to wake Iruka by running the shower head. He caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and smiled as he spotted the new marks on the side of his neck. A reminder to carry with him.

After washing up, he toweled himself off and put on his clothing before returning to the bedroom. There, he collected Iruka’s clothes off the ground, noting that the haori had become a wrinkled mess. Kakashi tossed some of the garments into the hamper and folded the rest to leave them on top of the dresser. Then he looked back at the bed to find Iruka in the same position as before. Drawn in, Kakashi walked over and pulled the blanket up a little further to protect Iruka from the cold air that was sure to seep in during the night.

Then he gave him another kiss, on the cheek this time, and smiled fondly as his lover grumbled in his sleep. No doubt he was objecting to Kakashi’s departure. Kakashi agreed with the sleepy complaint. He would have much preferred to stay, too. In spite of this, he finally made himself leave the bedroom for good. He pulled the door shut and looked at the window.

It was time to go. But Iruka had been so upset that previous evening. Kakashi couldn’t stay, but perhaps there was something he could do to brighten his morning.

So he passed by the window and went into the kitchen instead. He began to pull out everything he needed to prepare a bentō. Of course, it would have been better to prepare it in the morning so that it was going to be fresher by the time Iruka got around to eating it. But Iruka and him weren’t awarded such luxuries and this was the next best thing.

Kakashi felt each minute he spent in that kitchen as an accusation made against him as he did his best to put together a nice lunch as quickly as possible. When it was finally done, he put the bentō box in the fridge. He also left a note about its existence on the bathroom mirror. Only then did he depart. He pulled up his mask, put on his forehead protector, put up a henge to look like a nondescript Konoha shinobi and slipped into the night.

To get back home, Kakashi took mostly back alleys and small streets to minimize the risk of being seen. Sure, he was wearing a henge, but such techniques were never absolutely foolproof and his methods of protecting Iruka and himself had to be as close to that as they could get.

Konoha was quiet. The only people still about at this hour were the drunken remnants of festivities, the guards and the insomniacs. Kakashi liked Konoha at night. He always had. He didn’t feel so exposed in those empty, darkened streets.

He gave the Hokage Residence – his residence, officially – a wide berth to avoid drawing the attention of the ANBU stationed there to protect him. It was ironic, really, given that these were the people that he should have been able to trust the most. Kakashi himself hadn’t been on Hokage guard duty a lot during his time in ANBU, but it wasn’t a secret that they knew just about everything about the person they were protecting. He’d heard a rumor once that during Tsunade’s tenure, some of her guards had even kept a tally of how often she had resorted to drinking on the clock. A bit tactless, maybe, but he didn’t blame them. Guard duty could get boring.

So if Kakashi stopped ditching his guards, they were going to know exactly what was going on within an evening, in spite of Iruka’s numerous warding seals. And though Kakashi trusted them with his professional secrets and even his safety to an extent, he wasn’t going to let them find out about this. There was no way for him to vet the ANBU for tolerance of his kind of relationship. And even those sworn to secrecy could talk. It was not a risk worth taking.

Kakashi took to the roofs for the last leg of his quick journey and eventually jumped down onto a deserted street far away from his official home. Not a single soul haunted this part of town at this time of night. The only thing he could hear was the sound of the wind. He did his best to survey to area to make sure he was truly alone before turning to an unassuming house that was nestled inconspicuously between others. It was single-story, barely more than a shed. Warded specifically not to attract attention and to register as completely uninteresting to anyone who looked at it.

One already had to know of its importance to even think to approach it. The way Kakashi was doing.

He traced his fingers over the door and drew on the pool of chakra within himself to infuse a specific spot in the woodwork with it. The set barrier vanished temporarily. After another glance over his shoulder, Kakashi entered and closed the door behind himself. The barrier re-engaged behind him.

The interior didn’t look like anything special, either. Crates, boxes and barrels gave the impression of a sparsely used storage space. Kakashi dropped his henge and used a small Fire Release jutsu to light up the fingertips of his right hand to have some light to see by. With his other hand, he moved a few boxes out of the way to reveal seal on the floor. He infused that with his chakra, too, and a trap door became visible beneath it. Kakashi opened it. Below was one end of a dark and narrow tunnel. Kakashi jumped down and closed the hatch behind himself. He listened as the boxes reset themselves in the room above. Seals had gotten really sophisticated at some point. Perhaps he should have put more time into learning them himself.

Kakashi looked down the long tunnel and sighed before he began to follow it, going into the direction of his official home.

The secret tunnel of the Hokage Residence was supposed to be a means of escape for the Hokage and especially their family during emergency situations. Kakashi imaged that the Hokage themselves were rarely going to use it for that purpose, seeing as they were supposed to go out and defend the village. Not run away. Though he could imagine even fewer scenarios where they used it the way he did. As a secret entrance to the Residence. And it did that job excellently. There wasn’t even a guard stationed at the city end of the tunnel because that could have led someone uninvolved to believe that there was something worth guarding there.

The tunnel – just like the Residence itself – had been rebuilt after Pain had destroyed the village. So Godaime and Kakashi were the only people who had ever actually had a chance to use it. Kakashi doubted that Godaime ever had. And if the Residence that had been there before Pain had had a similar escape route, it likely hadn’t seen too much use, either. There was no way Sandaime had ever set foot down here to flee during the long years he had served the village.

Yet, Kakashi walked through the tunnel about as often as he did through his front door.

He wished he didn’t. This method of seeing Iruka was exhausting and time-consuming. Not to mention that Iruka deserved so much better than the cloak and dagger relationship they had. But there was too much at stake for them to do things any other way. It wasn’t only their jobs on the line. There was so much more. A damaged reputation could bring so much ruin.

As Kakashi got close to the Residence, he cloaked his chakra signature in case a sensor was on duty. He reached a staircase leading up to another trap door. He opened it and emerged in the basement. It was a sizeable space containing an assortment of old and dusty items that weren’t Kakashi’s. He sighed as he closed the hatch almost sluggishly. Exhaustion was tugging at him. But he had to stay vigilant for the last few steps, too. The risk was not over.

The ANBU weren’t watching the inside of the house, but if there was a sensor there, they could detect the appearance of another chakra signature in the vicinity. There was a clone up there in his bed which served as a decoy. It had his signature, so any sensor would have thought it to be him, if a somewhat chakra-depleted him.

Another signature appearing now was going to be read as a clone being created. So Kakashi made his way upstairs to the ground floor before releasing his hold on his chakra, hopefully duping any potential sensor out there into believing that he had just created a clone. The actual clone remained upstairs until it was time to switch. It wasn’t actually asleep. It was just sort of there as a placeholder, probably bored out of its mind. It could go to sleep if it wanted to, but there was no real point. Kakashi wouldn’t have magically absorbed the rest it had gotten once it was dismissed. He had tried that before. More than once.

Every exhausted bone in his body wanted to go to bed, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Instead, he walked through the spacious hallway to the front door. The flames around his fingertips were gone and he navigated the house by the moonlight that came in through the windows. He had to get to bed as soon as possible to clock in as much sleep as he could. But there were a few things that he needed to check. Entering a vast dark space and going straight to bed without some kind of perimeter check made him uncomfortable. Even if the house was supposed to be his own.

So instead of resting his weary body, he went to the large front door and started to test the locks, making sure that they were still locked, hadn’t been tampered with and generally looked like they were supposed to. Once he was satisfied that everything was alright, he moved on to the living area. It was a huge space for Kakashi’s standards and sparsely furnished. It looked eerie by night. Here, Kakashi checked the windows. He also gave everything a cursory glance to see whether anything else was amiss. It was difficult to tell given how little time he actually spent in this place, but he concluded that everything was okay here, too.

Kakashi had never done this kind of thorough nightly check in any other place he’d lived in. But the Hokage Residence was huge, much too big for one person. It contained so many rooms Kakashi never used and so many darkened corners that he felt unaware of. He just generally never felt like he was in control of the space. Without checking that things were in order, he fell into the same kind of light slumber that he had on missions. Which wasn’t as restful as he needed it to be.

He'd known that he wasn’t going to like it here, which was why he had initially rejected the notion of moving in. But then it had been made clear to him that it was absolutely not appropriate for someone of his station to continue living in the jōnin barracks. As if becoming Hokage somehow meant that he suddenly needed multiple floors, something like a ‘sitting room’ and his own non-communal bath and kitchen.

Sure, an individual house was easier to defend than an apartment. But donning the hat hadn’t made him defenseless. That was partially the point of a Hokage. That they were one of the strongest people in the village.

But he’d acquiesced. And refused the offer to look for different ‘appropriate’ lodgings that were more to his tastes because it had sounded like a colossal waste of time and Kakashi didn’t really know the first thing about what to look for in a house. Or worse, how to furnish one.

He wasn’t like Iruka, who turned modest apartments into homes. Who created spaces that radiated so much warmth that Kakashi wanted to live there and never leave. Kakashi couldn’t make something like that.

Before Iruka, he hadn’t even known that any place could ever feel like home to him again. Nothing had for a long time. Not since the Hatake compound had housed two people instead of just one child.

The Hokage Residence wasn’t a home. But at least it had a tunnel.

Kakashi finally checked the last point of entry. Everything was shut and locked and in order. Relieved, he went upstairs to his bedroom. The clone looked up from the bed with a book in its hand. Kakashi dismissed it. Once he was by himself, he quickly undressed and slipped beneath the sheets. He closed his eyes, wishing to fall asleep quickly and easily. But he couldn’t. His bedroom was too big and dark and the bed was too broad – broader than Iruka’s – and should have contained another person. Iruka had never been in this bed and he was likely never going to be. Yet, Kakashi could picture him there. His beautiful head resting on a pillow beside Kakashi’s. The too-fine sheets draped over his gorgeous body. It was a silly fantasy.

Kakashi turned onto his side and stared off into the darkness of the room, feeling like it was vast and all-consuming. Eventually, sleep showed him mercy and pulled him under.

He woke up far too soon in his sleep-deprived opinion. The following morning passed in a haze, dampened by his exhaustion. Kakashi wasn’t sure how many hours he had slept, only that any medic-nin would have slapped him up the back of his head for not getting more.

He somehow stumbled through the house, managing to get himself to look presentable along the way. Then he was out the door, on the streets, and eventually in his office. He started his day by stamping his approval onto several documents while his thoughts drifted to other things. Hoping that Iruka was alright. Thinking on how last evening had been a brutal reminder of the limitations of what they could do. Questioning how much longer Iruka was going to be satisfied with that watered-down version of a relationship. Pondering that Iruka deserved to go out on dates and have fun. It was as if Iruka was a sunflower that Kakashi was forcing into a dark basement to slowly wilt away.

“You weren’t supposed to stamp that.”

Kakashi blinked. He hadn’t noticed Shikamaru coming in, but his assistant was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Kakashi looked back down at the document. He grimaced and lifted the stamp from next week’s schedule. Some shinobi he was, losing track of his surroundings. “Well, I guess this is official now,” he quipped.

Shikamaru looked unimpressed. “Distracted again?”

“Perhaps a little. Did you want something?”

“Just to make sure you have everything you need for today. I’m going to the meeting with Shigeru-san and his group.”

“I’m good. Do you want me to send a clone along?”

“Not necessary. I’ll try to check in with you throughout the day.”

“You’ll probably have to run some things by me anyway,” Kakashi pointed out.

“Such a drag.” Shikamaru sighed. “Anyway, I should have a break around the time you’re meeting the elders. Not that I can join you.”

Kakashi eyed that particular point on his timetable and wondered just how much derision was too much to express in the company of a subordinate. “My favorite appointment,” he said flatly.

“You’ll manage,” Shikamaru replied with a surprising amount of friendliness. “Well, I have to get going.”

“Of course. See you later.”

-

The alarm clock went off.

Iruka groaned. He twisted in bed, sheets constricting around him before he reached out to swat at the clock until he finally hit the button that made it shut up. The silence allowed him to relax and he rolled onto his back. He stared at the ceiling. The curtains in his bedroom were drawn. Only a thin stripe of direct sunlight managed to pass them by.

Memories of the previous day came to mind. The surprisingly good date with Kumi. The much better night with Kakashi.

He turned to Kakashi’s side of the bed. There was still a dent in the pillow where a silver-haired head had rested hours before. Iruka ran his palm over the mattress beside it. There was no warmth left, of course. Iruka hadn’t expected there to be but the cool feeling of long-abandoned sheets against his skin made him frown. Feeling self-indulgent, he took the pillow and pressed his face into it. He inhaled the lingering scent, the tension in his body alleviated momentarily. He hugged the pillow to himself and held it tight. It was a little pathetic, maybe, but Iruka just wished with all of his being that he had woken up next to Kakashi. It had been so long, infinitely long, since he had woken up next to Kakashi last. He really wanted to wake up next to Kakashi again.

With a sigh, he released the pillow.

He wasn’t one to linger about in bed all day. And even if he had been, he couldn’t. He had a Mission Desk shift to go to.

As he got up, he noted that his clothes had been folded and put onto the dresser and he shook his head with a smile. He got clean underwear out of one of the drawers before heading to the bathroom with a yawn and a stretch. He opened the door and his eyes were immediately drawn to a note affixed to the mirror.

‘There’s a bentō in the fridge for you. I hope you enjoy it. Have a very good day, I will be thinking about you during mine.’

It was signed with the scarecrow face that Kakashi so liked to use in lieu of a hanko or any other type of signature. Iruka pulled the note from the mirror and smiled at it, reading over the lines a couple of times. Kakashi insisted that he was bad at romance and at genuine words, but Iruka disagreed. The proof was right there.

He showered quickly and got ready for work, making sure to pack the bentō, not yet peeking inside. He wanted to maintain the surprise of what exactly Kakashi had made him until lunch.

Then, Iruka went out. The sunlight from earlier had vanished behind a thick cover of clouds but at least it was dry. Iruka wondered idly whether Kakashi was at work already or whether he’d taken the liberty of sleeping a little longer. As much as it pained him, Iruka doubted it. Kakashi was getting by with way too little sleep these days.

Iruka himself had left a little later than he had wanted to so he made sure to walk at a brisk pace to get to the Tower on time. He wondered, briefly, if there was a chance of him running into Kumi there. He could only brace for such an awkward encounter.

He made good time and arrived a little while before his shift started. He entered the building and did his best to avoid meeting Kumi. Cautiously, Iruka checked around corners of hallways before progressing through them which garnered him a few confused looks from others who worked there.

Aside from Kumi’s potential presence, Iruka always felt a little weird walking through the Tower. Only a few wrong turns would have brought him face to face with his boyfriend, after all. Someone everyone else considered to be their untouchable leader. Yet, Iruka had seem him dozing maskless on his favorite cushion on Iruka’s floor. And panting and moaning, flushed red, muscles tensing as he gripped Iruka’s bedsheets. Iruka bit back a smile.

Every person he passed by on his way to the Mission Assignment Room worked for the Hokage in one way or another. But it was him and him alone who knew what Kakashi looked like at his most vulnerable. Or at his most undone. Or what it sounded like when Kakashi whispered little declarations of love into the quiet of a bedroom at night. Only he knew that Kakashi’s mask right that moment was covering a wicked hickey that Iruka had sucked into the crook of his neck the night before.

That thought was more thrilling than it had any right to be.

Iruka arrived at his workplace and began to set up for the day. He liked the opening shift. He was used to starting his days early and these hours were often relatively quiet. It was also the shift during which most jōnin-sensei dropped in to pick up D-ranks with their genin teams, allowing Iruka to see how some of his most recently graduated kids were doing. Iruka liked hearing about the D-ranks.

He felt a bit more conflicted when they started to progress and their stories became more dangerous and more violent. They were at peace, but shinobi were still needed. And so Iruka, like every other Academy instructor, helped in creating more little soldiers. He tried to change the system. To make them older, to make things different. But at the end of the day these were still kids he was training to eventually kill or die for their village.

Iruka looked at the stack of mission scrolls, wondering idly how many of them were going to yield casualties. How many of them were going to imprint lasting nightmares into the minds of those who performed them.

Change was a slow creature. But by the Sage, did Iruka want to speed it up.

Over the course of the next 15 minutes, his colleagues arrived. The first was the upbeat and always smiling Masaru. Iruka liked him as a shift partner, even if he could get a bit chatty sometimes. They were joined a few minutes later by a relatively new addition to the Mission Desk team, Arata. Arata was young and eager to get along with everybody, unfortunately to the point where he was afraid of telling jōnin that their mission reports were crap. Iruka was working on improving that. Anyone working at the Mission Desk should have been able to tell off shinobi who thought they could leave all report fixing to someone else.

Masaru was quick to engage Iruka and Arata in a conversation about weekend plans until the first shinobi began to trickle in.

The morning shift turned out to be even slower than Iruka had anticipated so he used the time to give Arata some pointers on report filing, emphasizing, again, that if a report was not presented in a legible and complete condition, it could and should not be accepted. Iruka even got to put his own preachings into action when, a few minutes after his explanation, a chūnin presented a mission report that Iruka – who was used to the handwriting of pre-genin – could not read. Naturally, Iruka didn’t hold back his critique.

An unfortunate byproduct of the slow morning was that Iruka had lots of time to think about the previous night. Now that he had the chance ruminate, any warm thoughts about Kakashi were starting to be tarnished by regret. He should not have snapped at his boyfriend like that. Especially when said boyfriend had done nothing to deserve it. None of which changed the fact that Iruka had enjoyed his time out. He would have enjoyed it more in Kakashi’s company, of course, but going out had been fun. And now, he remembered how much he actually missed that. And how unfortunate it was that he couldn’t do it with Kakashi.

Eventually, noon rolled around. Arata left and another chūnin named Shin took his place. Iruka didn’t get along with Shin. He was cold and unnecessarily brash. Fortunately, Masaru announced that he was taking his lunch break and asked Iruka to come along so they excused themselves to let Shin handle the lunch period – which also tended to be rather slow.

Iruka happily took his bundled up bentō as he left the Mission Assignment Room alongside Masaru. Masaru held a container of his own as they set out together.

“You have a bentō?” Masaru asked as they made their way down the hallway. “I thought you didn’t cook.”

Iruka’s grip on the bentō tightened. He should have anticipated that some of his coworkers were going to comment on it. “I have to practice sometime, don’t I?”

“I suppose so.” Masaru shrugged and thankfully, that seemed to be it.

They turned a corner and suddenly there was something in front of them and Iruka nearly ran directly into someone. That someone being his bentō chef, as it turned out. Kakashi came to an abrupt stop as Iruka froze. Shikamaru came into view and stopped as well. Kakashi was wearing his formal white robes and the Hokage hat – an outfit that Iruka always thought made him look unfairly cute – which meant that he was likely on his way to some official business.

“Kakashi-sama,” he said haltingly, just barely remembering to tack on the necessary honorific.

Kakashi’s eyes landed on the bentō in Iruka’s grasp. His eyes twinkled. “Iruka-sensei,” he greeted politely.

Iruka only then noticed that Masaru was bent at the waist, offering a small formal bow, and Iruka hurried to join him. He wished he’d done so sooner if only to avoid seeing Shikamaru obviously stifling some kind of amused response behind his fist.

“Again with the formality,” Kakashi chided.

Iruka and Masaru stood up straight. “Apologies, Rokudaime,” Masaru said, “it’s, er, habit.”

“Seems to be,” Kakashi observed. “Well, have a good lunch.”

“Thank you. Erm- Have a good day, Kakashi-…san,” Iruka tried.

Kakashi smiled before walking past them. Shikamaru followed and Iruka valiantly pretended not to notice the look on his face.

How embarrassing. Iruka couldn’t believe that ‘can’t-say-I-love-you-without-blushing’ Hatake Kakashi had managed that interaction with more grace than he had. Then again, Iruka had always worn his heart on his sleeve whereas Kakashi’s was hidden and sealed away from prying eyes. Unless you knew his tells, of course.

“I never know what to say to him,” Masaru griped as they continued walking to the break room.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s the Hokage. But he doesn’t like a formal address. What do you do with that?”

Iruka shrugged and he kept looking straight ahead. “I try to listen to his preferences.”

“Apparently so. Kakashi-san, huh.”

“Ah, well, it’s easier for me, I guess,” Iruka explained as he opened the door to the break room. “I’ve spoken to him as Kakashi-san many times before he became Hokage. And as Kakashi-sensei, of course.”

Masaru only hummed in response.

Two other chūnin were having their lunch in the break room. Iruka didn’t know either of them very well so they just exchanged some polite greetings before Masaru and him sat down at a separate table. They got to the room at a good time. There were only three large tables crammed into the relatively small space and it could be hard to get a spot if you arrived just a little too late.

“So you’re friends?” Masaru picked the thread of conversation back up as he unpacked his lunch.

“Ah, well, maybe a little?” Iruka shrugged, doing his best to appear casual. He didn’t look at Masaru as he fiddled with the knot of the cloth his bentō was wrapped in. He couldn’t risk overselling Kakashi’s and his friendship. They were never seen spending any time together, after all.

Masaru seemed to be about to ask another question when the door opened and stopped him, his eyes focusing on something behind Iruka to look at the newcomer. Iruka wanted to sigh in relief until Masaru greeted them.

“Oh, Genma-san!”

No. Not Genma. Why did it have to be Genma?

“Masaru-san,” Genma greeted and walked over to their table. “Oh, and Iruka-kun?” His easygoing smile turned just a touch too gleeful for Iruka’s liking.

“Do you want to join us?” Masaru indicated a chair at the table, either not seeing or ignoring the look Iruka was giving him meant to prevent this exact outcome.

“Sure,” Genma replied mercilessly and pulled out the chair. Genma hadn’t brought any lunch for himself. Shodai only knew what the hell he was doing in the breakroom. Iruka unwrapped his bentō.

“I didn’t know you were working in the Tower today, Genma-san,” Iruka said curtly as he removed the lid of the box. Perhaps he was being a bit too snappish. He liked Genma. Genuinely. They were friends, sort of. But when it came to gossip, Genma was vicious and ruthless and Iruka was already working on getting Masaru off his case. Plus, the way Genma kept glancing at Iruka told him to turn and run if he didn’t want to be torn apart.

“Yeah, I’m working on something with the barrier team today,” Genma replied. “Nice bentō. Did you make that?”

Straight to the point. “Why? Do you think that it made itself?”

Genma leaned over the table to inspect Iruka’s lunch as if he could find a signature in the rice.

“Do you mind?” Iruka pushed at his shoulder to shove him back into his seat.

“You know, Iruka-kun, people have been talking.”

“Aren’t they always?” Iruka questioned with a sigh as he picked up his chopsticks.

“Sure,” Genma agreed, “but not always about you.” He plucked his senbon out of his mouth. “I didn’t think you had it in you, but I guess I can be wrong.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

Genma leveled him a long look before leaning closer to Masaru conspiratorially to say, “I think Iruka-kun’s embarrassed about his date.”

So it was about that. Crap. Between his guilt over snapping at Kakashi and his gleeful reminiscence about what had happened after, he had somehow forgotten about how all of last evening was going to be turned into gossip fodder. “What date?” Masaru asked.

Genma was smirking, positively feral. “Last night, Raidō saw Iruka-kun enter a really nice restaurant with a woman. And not just any woman. A foreign kunoichi who is famous for her good looks.”

Iruka wanted to sink into the floor. He glared at Genma, instead. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Sounds like a date,” Masaru pondered.

“It absolutely was a date.” Genma put his senbon back into his mouth. “Raidō said you were all dressed up.”

Raidō was going to regret ever speaking a single word in his life. Iruka tried to soothe the waves of his anger. And below it, the roiling sensation of guilt. He didn’t need anyone hounding him about his personal life. But if they had to hound him, they weren’t even doing it about the right person. Kumi hadn’t reassured him sweetly and kissed him and held him. Kumi hadn’t made him moan and forget the world outside his bedroom. Of course, it was a good thing that they weren’t hounding him about the truth. It was just hard to remember that sometimes.

He really wanted to shout at the others to mind their own business, but he knew that at least Genma was trying to get him riled up and he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. He couldn’t seem too invested or defensive, either. He had to navigate this situation carefully. To hide what needed to stay hidden. “Well,” he started, letting his annoyance show, “what Raidō didn’t see was that Naruto engineered the whole thing. Without asking me.”

“Hm? Naruto?”

“Yes.” Iruka sighed. “Apparently, he met Kumi-san on a mission and thought we might hit it off. He didn’t even tell me about it beforehand. He just told me to dress up and go to a meeting point.”

“Well, lucky you!” Genma grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Do you think Naruto can find some for all of us?”

“Don’t even go there.”

Genma withdrew his hand. “Well, anyway. Doesn’t really matter why you met her, does it? So, how did it go?”

Iruka wondered if he could just get up and walk away or if that was going to make the situation worse. Perhaps it was for the best if he just subjected himself to Genma’s prodding. “It went alright. She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Genma narrowed his eyes. “She’s supposed to be the most beautiful and fascinating kunoichi in Lightning Country. People have written whole ballads about her.”

“Yes, Genma-san. Nice. I didn’t want to go on a date with her and I’m not going to go on another one.”

Genma’s look turned critical. “Was she condescending or something? Arrogant? Obnoxious?”

“No. I told you,” Iruka reiterated with the tone of tested patience that was normally reserved for talking to an especially trying classroom full of kids. “She was nice.”

Genma shared a look with Masaru. Then he turned his attention back to Iruka. “Just so we’re on the same page: You go out with a gorgeous kunoichi, who is wealthy, capable and nice. And you don’t even want to give her a chance.”

“Looks, skill and wealth really aren’t reasons for me to date anyone. And she’s just not my type.” Iruka looked at his food. “Again, it’s not like I wanted to meet her. Naruto made me. He’s gotten it into his head that he needs to find me a girlfriend.”

Genma hummed in consideration and crossed his arms. “Well, he’s got a point, doesn’t he?”

Iruka nearly dropped his chopsticks. “Excuse me?”

Genma shrugged. “When was the last time you went out on a date you were actually planning to go on?”

Kakashi and him did home-dates. But clearly, he couldn’t bring those up. He wasn’t even sure if they counted by his own estimation. He averted his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess it’s been a while.” He turned back to Genma with a glare. “But who are you to judge? You’re older than me and I’ve never seen you properly date anybody.”

“It’s different for me,” Genma said. “I like my freedom.” So, one-night-stands only. “But you’re not like that, are you? You’re a committer. Everyone thought you would have been married and settled down with four kids ages ago. And you can’t tell me there’s no one interested in you because, clearly, there is.”

Iruka wanted to shoot back a scathing remark about how, yes, there was someone interested and it was Genma’s superior and they were very much dating and had been for years so Genma could fuck off with his comments about him having to find someone. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t even say that Kumi just wasn’t his preferred gender.

No one knew about his preference for men. He’d been relatively open about his so-called experimentation in his teenage years, but it was somewhat socially acceptable to be ‘curious’ during that time. It was a phase people expected – and demanded – you to grow out of. Iruka just never had. Kissing other boys was a means of finding one’s self. Not an expression of love. Real, grown-up, everlasting love. That wasn’t for the likes of Iruka.

On one hand, Iruka wanted to believe that Genma, who was a good person in spite of his penchant for participating in gossip, would have respected him regardless and respected the sensitivity of the truth. Iruka even believed that not all of Genma’s hookups were women. But on the other hand, Genma couldn’t contain an interesting piece of gossip to save his life unless it was actually classified. And ‘the Academy teacher is in a clandestine relationship with the Hokage and yes, they’re both men’ was easily the most enticing tidbit he would have heard all year.

“So why wasn’t she your type?” Genma pressed when it became clear that Iruka wasn’t taking his bait.

“I don’t know. She just wasn’t. Do I need to have a reason?”

“I guess not.” Genma leaned closer with his elbows on the table. “But you know, at this rate you’re going to get a reputation for being picky. And that’s never done anyone any favors.”

“Oh, and who would be spreading that reputation around, hm?” Iruka challenged. From the corner of his eye, he could see Masaru quietly shoveling rice into his mouth and watching the exchange. “It’s not my fault if I don’t like someone.”

“So, what do you like then?”

Kakashi. Iruka really, really liked Kakashi. “Like hell I’m telling you. The last thing I need is more people being sent my way. I’m perfectly capable of finding someone by myself if and when I want to. Now can we please drop it?”

“Fine,” Genma sighed dramatically. “I don’t get why you’re so worked up over this but fine. I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you,” Iruka said without smiling. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to eat my lunch.”

-

Kakashi was wearing his robe like armor.

He wasn’t too fond of the garment. He always felt like the robe and hat were wearing him rather than the other way around. He was no stranger to covering himself up and he couldn’t deny the appeal of concealing even more, but when he put on the outfit and looked in the mirror, he just somehow disagreed with what he saw.

But it came with a set of perks. One of them being that it reminded people of his status far more than the red lettering on the back of his armored vest did. He held out hope that it was going to make the elders a bit more reluctant to try to ignore his opinions.

He arrived at the meeting room.

“Good luck,” Shikamaru said with the gravity of someone who knew exactly how unpleasant the two people behind the door could be.

Kakashi nodded. “Thanks. You go ahead and take a break. I know you haven’t, yet.” Neither had he. But as Hokage he felt like it was at his own discretion to skip breaks when he wanted to.

“Yeah, fine. See you later.” Shikamaru bowed, turned and left.

Strange how people who had never felt the need to bow to him couldn’t seem to stop doing it no matter how often he asked them not to. Shikamaru was usually better at that. Maybe the hat and robe were more powerful than Kakashi had thought.

If only the elders were going to feel that way.

Kakashi steeled himself as he opened the door. Beyond it was a small council meeting room with a low table in the center. Homura and Koharu were already seated around it, both looking at him expectantly. The only reason that this couldn’t be considered a proper council meeting was that Tsunade was technically on the council and she was still Sage-knew-where with Shizune.

“Homura-sama, Koharu-sama,” Kakashi greeted before closing the door behind himself. He walked over to sit on the opposite side of them. He didn’t bother taking off his hat. “You wanted to speak to me.”

“Rokudaime,” Koharu spoke up and for once Kakashi felt no need to correct someone to use his name instead. “I hope you’re well.”

False niceties, huh. Kakashi could do false niceties. He didn’t like niceties of any kind but he was capable of participating in them if the situation called for it. “I am. Peace has treated us all rather well, I believe.” He paused. “But surely you didn’t arrange to meet just to speak about my well-being.” They probably wouldn’t have had any qualms about stealing his medical information if they had wanted to know whether he was sick.

“That is true,” Homura agreed. “We called you here to speak about something important. A delicate matter.”

Dread curled in Kakashi’s gut. “Yes, Shikamaru relayed as much to me.”

“Actually,” Homura continued, “I think we’ve spoken to you about this in the past. Before you became Hokage.”

Oh. Oh no. “And what exactly is this delicate matter?”

“The continuation of the Hatake clan.”

Fuck.

Chapter Text

In the past …

Kakashi was released from the hospital a few days after being admitted.

The medic-nin were reluctant to let him go. But they resigned themselves to the fact that he was only one more session of staring at the wall away from releasing himself with or without their approval. So they gave him strict instructions to take it easy before telling him he could leave.

Normally, such instructions would have had him brushing off their concerns and going to train right away, but not that day. That day, he didn’t mind taking it easy so much because he actually had plans. He was going to Ichiraku’s with Iruka. So he refrained from exhausting himself on the next training field to make that happen.

When their scheduled meeting time drew close, Kakashi found himself restless and apprehensive. He was on his way to the ramen shop with one hand shoved deep into his pocket and the other holding Icha Icha Violence up to his face, using it mostly to block out his surroundings while he tried to get a grip. He had to force himself to keep going and to ignore the urges that told him to turn around and run.

Not because he wasn’t looking forward to it, he absolutely was. But the last and only time they’d had dinner, it had been so good that Kakashi was almost certain it had been a fluke. He could already see how this evening was going to go horribly. How they were going to be sitting next to each other in front of their ramen bowls in absolute and mortifying silence. Perhaps Kakashi was even going to commit some kind of faux-pas without noticing. Which was inevitably going to lead to Iruka realizing his mistake in attempting to befriend him. Iruka was probably going to be kind about telling him that they were never going to do this again. Hopefully.

So Kakashi was already ready to bolt when he arrived. Only for all of his worries and that nervous energy to dissipate immediately upon seeing Iruka.

Iruka was waiting in front of Ichiraku’s and as soon as he noticed Kakashi approaching, his neutral expression turned into a bright smile. Kakashi suppressed the urge to peer over his shoulder to make sure there was no one else that radiant expression was meant for. People didn’t look like that when they spotted him. Not even Gai’s smile seemed quite this meaningful.

Kakashi drawled his usual greeting and Iruka inquired after his well-being, giving him a keen-eyed once-over and then a reprimand about not staying in the hospital longer. But all seemed to be forgiven as they headed inside, placed their orders, and immediately fell into comfortable conversation. As if they were just picking up where they had left off the last time they had been here. Iruka chatted about this and that, Kakashi listened closely, they ate and drank and after what felt like no time at all they were walking into the same direction before parting ways. And with that, Iruka had unknowingly bestowed another piece of that wonderful warmth upon Kakashi. Which then accompanied him on his next mission a few days later.

From there on, their meetings became a thing.

Whenever Kakashi was in town and uninjured enough to move about, Iruka and him grabbed a bite to eat as soon as Iruka had time. They often met up at the Academy after a school day and walked to the restaurant together as Iruka vented his latest teacher-related frustrations or generally spoke about his day. When the weather didn’t facilitate a companionable stroll, they met up at the restaurant or hurried in together to escape the downpour.

Each of their meetings was accompanied by conversation. Iruka did most of the talking just like he had the first time. He spoke about the Academy and his class often enough that Kakashi could actually name a few of his students. Other times, Iruka complained about some shinobi he’d had to deal with at the Mission Desk. And once or twice, he told Kakashi about the rare missions he took on between teaching and getting worked up over bad mission reports.

Iruka didn’t seem to mind Kakashi’s more passive role in their interactions and Kakashi was happy to listen and observe. He watched the way Iruka gestured and laughed and grimaced. His face was so expressive. His eyes alone conveyed the depth of his emotions – the way they crinkled with mirth or got sharp with anger. Iruka was emotive in a way that no one else Kakashi had ever spent time with was. He displayed more feelings in one sentence than Kakashi did in a day.

But while Iruka talked the most, he did seem interested in Kakashi as well. Not in seeing his face or validating the rumors or any of those others things Kakashi was familiar with. Iruka asked for his opinions and experiences, things that weren’t hardships to share and never even close to any of his boundaries. Kakashi found himself answering and sharing these things with ease. Perhaps it was the teacher in Iruka or just his inherently good nature, but something about him made it easier for Kakashi to offer truthful and genuine responses rather than deflections and sarcasm.

Kakashi even talked about things of his own volition. He had to verbally dance around classified information a lot as almost all of his interesting experiences and stories were related to missions. But Iruka watched him as he spoke, nodding along and paying attention in spite of the missing details. Initially, Kakashi spoke mostly about Team 7, even if all of those stories left a sour taste in his mouth. But while Iruka latched onto any information about Naruto – or his other former students – it wasn’t the only thing Kakashi had to offer that interested him. Iruka became particularly invested whenever Kakashi shared things about foreign places he’d been to and the nature and culture he’d seen there. Iruka watched him closely when such topics came up, leaning on his hand and nodding and humming and ‘ah’ing along.

He smiled then and pointed out something interesting or beautiful that Kakashi hadn’t even thought about.

Kakashi had often killed in those places, yet he never uttered a word about the bloodshed and death. At least not in their entirety.

Some days, he feared that Iruka could somehow see the murder in his demeanor and the tarnished soul hiding behind his eyes. But Iruka never shied away from him. He never recoiled or frowned or sneered. He never rejected Kakashi. Instead, he found beauty and wonder in mission stories that Kakashi hadn’t seen. What a fascinating perspective for a shinobi to have.

Not long after they started meeting up regularly, Iruka asked Kakashi where he wanted to go for dinner one evening and Kakashi hesitated for a moment before making a suggestion. And so they went to a soba place that he’d only been to a handful of times but had always enjoyed. Iruka ordered seconds for the both of them. Next time after that, Iruka recommended a place that he promised made good donburi. It was a tiny shop with two small tables and a chef that kept quietly singing to herself, making up lyrics about donburi to match the melody, which had Iruka and Kakashi share amused looks.

And so, weeks passed. The weather grew hotter by the day, fresh watermelons and other summer staples appeared more and more frequently in the market and Iruka and Kakashi expanded their shared culinary horizon ever further. Though by unspoken mutual agreement, they avoided places that were too crowded or the usual haunts of Iruka’s and Kakashi’s social circles – if one could even consider Kakashi to have such a thing.

Then there were the times when they didn’t eat when they met. Instead, they just walked side-by-side or sat together on a bench or in a tree or on a rooftop to talk. And then, a few times, they didn’t even talk all that much. And it was all so terribly comfortable.

Kakashi learned something new about Iruka every time they met up. Iruka’s favorite desserts, his pastimes, his opinions, his complaints and even how he felt about his complicated relationship with the late Sandaime.

Kakashi tucked each sliver of information away, adding more and more pieces to his mental puzzle of Umino Iruka.

By the time summer was fully and properly upon them in all its sweltering glory, Kakashi was forced to realize that he had somehow stumbled his way into an actual friendship. It was a new thing for him, building a friendship in such a regular and almost mundane way. None of the friendships he’d ever had had been this simple. He’d made friends with Tenzō by helping him get out of Root and he’d not really been given a choice when it had come to being friends with Gai. Gai had just decided that for them. And Kakashi had been unable to escape from it.

But this new thing with Iruka was suspiciously easy. So easy that Kakashi was sure that something was wrong. That it was something he wasn’t actually allowed to have. And some of the nights he couldn’t fall asleep, he was plagued by his selfishness. The dark shadows of his past could very well reach into the present and grab hold of Iruka.

Stealing smiles with little favors was one thing. But this was something else entirely.

Iruka deserved to be safe from him. And Kakashi didn’t know whether he could bear to have him on his conscience.

So whenever they met, Kakashi told himself that it was going to be the last time. He could start ignoring Iruka. Or he could pull any number of nasty, cold-blooded and cruel stunts that were sure to drive Iruka away for good. Protecting him from the corruption. But Kakashi was a terribly weak man. And whenever Iruka offered one of those radiant smiles and asked him whether he had time, his resolve crumbled. And he said ‘yes’. And his guilt grew heavier.

Thus, he let it continue.

It was a particularly hot day in July. The sunshine was beating down on Konoha relentlessly with not a merciful cloud in the sky. Parasols protected market stalls and people alike and every other person was gulping down water or fanning themselves profusely. People had rolled up sleeves and pant legs and an oppressive, lazy mood seemed to have taken over the village as not even a breeze rolled through the streets to alleviate the heat.

Kakashi had only left his apartment a few minutes ago but there was already sweat beading at the back of his neck and his uniform was beginning to grow damp in some places. He should have switched to a short-sleeved shirt while he’d had the opportunity, but he preferred the more covering garments and had gotten cocky, figuring that he’d survived the Land of Wind long-sleeved several times already. A miscalculation. Oh well.

The heat stopped bothering him at once when he spotted Iruka on the street, his own heat-related suffering apparently being second to his work-ethic, as he carried a stack of boxes that, from the way he was struggling with them, seemed to be not only extremely unwieldy but also rather heavy.

Kakashi glanced around to ensure that no one was watching him. When he saw that no one was looking, he approached. He couldn’t have people starting to talk about how helpful he was. He wasn’t, after all.

“Having some trouble?” he asked nonchalantly as he leaned out from behind the stack of boxes and looked at Iruka, whose face was already glistening with sweat.

“Kakashi-san!” Iruka stopped abruptly in his tracks. He stared at Kakashi for a moment before the question seemed to catch up with him. “Er, it’s mostly just annoying.”

Kakashi hummed. He rocked back and forth on his feet. “Do you want a hand with your annoyance?”

Iruka smiled. “If you’re available.”

Kakashi took two of the three boxes from Iruka. They were pretty heavy. “Oof. What’s in here?”

“Just some equipment for the Academy,” Iruka said and continued walking, prompting Kakashi to fall into step beside him.

“Equipment? Are you having them throw rocks now?”

Iruka snorted. “No, these are some new training dummies. Well. The individual parts of new training dummies.”

Kakashi hummed. “Dummies, huh? Logs of wood aren’t good enough for today’s youth?”

Iruka huffed out a laugh. “The students don’t care about this. This was all the headmaster. He got it in his head that it’s better for pre-genin to train with something person-shaped.” His lips twisted in displeasure. “I honestly don’t know why he would prioritize this of all things, it’s not like we have budget to burn. We could’ve invested in something else. Anything else, really. There’s so much that needs to be done.”

“Someone must have really sold him on the benefits of these.”

“Maybe.” Iruka shook his head. “It’s supposed to help the kids learn to land more lethal strikes. From what I’ve been told, these dummies are supposed to have movable parts. Sort of like puppets. I guess that is better than pinning a sheet with a stick figure on it to a tree?”

Kakashi tried to imagine it. “Sounds unsettling to me.”

“Could be,” Iruka agreed. “I’ll let you know if the kids start reporting nightmares.” They arrived at the gate of the Academy grounds and Iruka led him inside before rounding the building. Kakashi followed.

They reached the training grounds behind the school building and Kakashi had the abrupt realization that he hadn’t actually stood in the grassy yard of the Academy in about two decades. He’d seen it from a distance and he had occasionally leapt over it, but he hadn’t actually stood here once since he’d been a student himself. He still remembered his own bouts of hand-to-hand and the way he’d outshone his classmates with his shuriken skills. He shook his head a bit to forget that line of thought before it summoned ghosts to his mind. Which led him to notice that it was just Iruka and him standing in the yard.

“Where is everyone else?” he asked as he followed Iruka further.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I figured your colleagues would be here to help you set these up.” In fact, he had already come up with six excuses about why he’d helped Iruka carry the boxes in spite of not being a person who helped people with things.

“Naruto was right,” Iruka stated cryptically.

“About?”

“You really do prioritize teamwork,” Iruka said and turned to him with another blinding smile. “We actually drew straws to determine who was going to have to do it and, well, I don’t have to tell you how that turned out.”

“That’s surprising.”

“That I drew the shortest one? Not really,” Iruka said with a tone of voice that spoke of a long history of bad luck. Kakashi could relate.

“No, I thought that teachers were more of a sticking-together bunch.”

Iruka laughed. “We are. When it comes to certain things. When it’s about who has to come in on a weekend, it can get downright vicious. You can put the boxes down over here.”

Kakashi nodded and set down the boxes next to some others in the shade of a large tree. He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. Iruka put down his own box as well. He looked over the stacks. “Well, that was the last of them. Thanks for your help. I guess I owe you. Again.”

“Maa, what’s carrying a few boxes between friends?”

Iruka smiled again. “Well then, I have to get to it. I need to get this done before the end of the day. I’ll see you around?”

Kakashi stared at the vast quantity of boxes in comparison to the one singular Iruka. “You’re setting all of this up today?”

“I have to. I have a double shift at the Mission Desk tomorrow and we can’t have these boxes sitting around until Monday.”

Kakashi wasn’t a good friend. He just wasn’t. Many aspects of interpersonal relationships were absolutely vexing to him. But even he knew that, much like those who leave their comrades behind being scum, friends didn’t leave friends behind to waste their entire free day building up training dummies by themselves.

“I’ll help,” he decided before he could think better of it.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “You want to waste your time with this? Didn’t you tell me just two days ago that you were itching to go out on a mission?”

“Does this not qualify?”

Iruka glanced at the boxes before giving him a doubtful look. “I mean, I guess it could be a D-rank. Which seems a little below your paygrade. Seriously, I bet you were on your way to the Mission Desk, weren’t you?”

“Who me? Can’t I have been enjoying a nice stroll out in the sweltering heat?”

“Sure, I bet that was it,” Iruka replied sarcastically. He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Well, I’m not going to reject the option of not having to do this alone, but if you decide to help you don’t get to bail when it starts getting annoying.”

Kakashi grinned. “Don’t worry, sensei. Endurance is one of my core strengths.”

Iruka blinked and turned away as he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Before Kakashi could ask him to repeat himself, he started opening the boxes and unpacking them. Kakashi immediately began to help out.

He opened box after box and took out the contents, placing them down in the grass so Iruka and him could get an overview of all the parts. He realized after the third box or so that he had underestimated the complexity of these training dummies. Each box was chock-full of wooden limbs and other parts that were harder to identify.

“Who made these?” Kakashi asked, intrigued, as he held up an elongated piece that could have been a shin or a lower arm.

“No idea. The headmaster took care of everything, so I never got to see any of the paperwork,” Iruka explained as he lifted a torso out of one of the boxes. He sounded a little miffed.

“Reminds me of the puppets the Suna puppeteers use. I wonder if these could be controlled with chakra,” Kakashi mused.

Iruka hummed. “Well, if puppet dummies aren’t going to give the kids nightmares, moving puppet dummies probably will.”

Kakashi laughed and Iruka turned around to look at him with wide eyes. Kakashi cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. He was aware that he didn’t laugh a lot, to the point that it was probably bewildering when he did. But Iruka’s face betrayed no bewilderment. It was bright and open and happy. Kakashi averted his eyes from all that openness, unsure of what to do with it or how to react to it. It felt like a dangerous thing to have so close to him.

They kept unboxing dummy parts until they had all the different pieces lying in the grass, sorted by type. They’d done their best to keep to the shade of the tree to grant them survivable conditions to work in. As time went on, the punishing glare of the sun only became worse.

Iruka tossed Kakashi a bottle of water and Kakashi caught it effortlessly. He glanced around the yard before pulling down his mask, knowing that he didn’t have to worry about Iruka looking. He took a few big gulps before replacing his mask as he looked over all the parts. He tried to piece them together in his mind. “Did they come with instructions?”

Iruka was taking a drink from his own bottle. His brow furred as he screwed the cap back on and looked into some of the boxes again. “No.”

“Well. Guess we’re in for a fun afternoon.”

They started by figuring out how the odd non-limb pieces that served as joints worked. This was when Iruka realized that they needed tools and braved the trek through the sun to get some from the Academy building. Afterwards, they started the assembly of the first training dummy. They did their best to be careful with the pricey new acquisition even though Kakashi got the distinct impression that Iruka wouldn’t have minded watching them all be thrown into a massive bonfire instead.

Iruka and Kakashi took turns holding parts up and connecting things, sometimes of one mind, other times disagreeing about what had to go where. It was a surprisingly excruciating process that took them longer than Kakashi would have liked. Iruka asked jokingly why he hadn’t copied a puppet building jutsu after they’d gotten the second leg together and Kakashi promised to add one to his arsenal if he ever got the chance. Eventually, they had a standing humanoid puppet. Finally. They both looked at it. It did look similar to a Suna puppet. Only that it was propped up by a metal rod affixed to a stand and that it wasn’t out for murder. Probably.

“That took forever,” Iruka remarked. “But now we know how to assemble the others.”

Kakashi looked at it for a moment longer. “I think this one is a bit special.”

“Huh? Why?”

“He’s got two left hands.”

Iruka’s gaze snapped to the left hand. And then to the other left hand. He growled and threw his screwdriver into the grass before throwing up his hands in exasperation. “This is impossible!”

“If you need to let your frustration out, he’s right here,” Kakashi quipped, gesturing at the hand-challenged training dummy.

Iruka glared at it as if he was considering it. But then his stomach growled loudly and he clutched it as his cheeks reddened.

“Hungry?” Kakashi asked.

“I haven’t had lunch.”

Neither had Kakashi. They’d both been here doing this. “Why don’t you find us something to eat and I’ll try to give this one a right hand?” He suggested as he tilted the training dummy to lower it into the grass, having found out that it was easier to work on in a resting position.

“Are you sure? This is my responsibility.”

Kakashi shrugged as he tried to figure out how to remove the incorrect hand. “You’re hungry. I could eat. Besides, I have a feeling that you might break this thing before it even has a chance to terrorize kids if you don’t get some food in your system.”

Iruka huffed. “Fine. Any requests?”

“I’m fine with whatever. Just maybe nothing-”

“-fried? Yeah, I know. I think I’ll get some more water as well. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Alright.”

Iruka took off.

Kakashi looked after him. Then back at the training dummy. “Guess, it’s just you and me,” he muttered as he tried to pry the incorrect hand from the body. “You know, you could do Iruka-sensei a favor and just assemble yourselves, all of you.”

The training dummies had no response.

“Yeah, I get that. I’m not the type to get off my ass to help, either.”

-

Iruka made his way back to the Academy with a plastic bag containing two storebought bentō and some snacks, and another containing a few drinks. He had fretted more over the decision of where to go and what to get than he was ever going to admit to Kakashi.

He jumped down from a neighboring rooftop to land in the grass beside Kakashi and smiled.

“I see the surgery was a success,” he said.

Kakashi was already kneeling beside a second dummy that he’d begun to assemble. He looked back at the first and then at Iruka. “Just barely. I don’t know why they make these things so difficult to put together.”

Iruka sat down in the grass and Kakashi abandoned the dummy to sit in front of him, accepting one of the bentō and a bottle of green tea with thanks. When he went to pull down his mask to eat, Iruka averted his eyes. He focused on his food instead.

“I can’t believe we’ve only got one so far,” Iruka griped as he glanced at the many, many individual parts still waiting for assembly.

“I can’t believe that the headmaster didn’t just commission a D-rank for this,” Kakashi said. Iruka observed his one gloved hand holding the bento and saw chopsticks descend into the rice. “This would be perfect for some freshly minted genin.”

Kakashi lifted his hand and Iruka kept himself from following it with his eyes to avoid seeing Kakashi’s face. “And what exactly would the genin be learning from this?”

“Perseverance.”

Iruka laughed and he picked up a piece of tofu with his own chopsticks. “That’s true, I guess.” He sighed, mirth fading. “The headmaster didn’t want to pay for a D-rank. And why would he when he already wasted money on this?”

“Seems like he has some strange priorities. But I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“No, I agree with you,” Iruka said, “I have no idea why he’s in charge.”

For a little while, they ate in peace until Kakashi finished his bentō. He always finished his food first when they ate together. Iruka had learned that he’d cultivated the ability to eat so quickly it probably would have given anyone else stomach cramps. Iruka spotted the familiar movement of his arm that indicated the mask was being put back up so he dared to look at his face. Only to find Kakashi staring across the training grounds almost wistfully.

“Everything alright?”

Kakashi blinked. “Yeah. Just remembering my Academy days.”

Iruka hummed and he followed Kakashi’s gaze to look out at the grounds too. Iruka didn’t see his own time at school when he did. Rather, he saw his students’. He especially remembered Naruto and his never-ending rivalry with Sasuke. Their taijutsu bouts. Naruto’s complaints and lackluster weapon skills.

Iruka wondered what kind of training Kakashi saw in this space and remembered some of the rumors he’d heard.

“You graduated quickly, didn’t you?” he asked. It wasn’t a secret. Kakashi’s quick and steep career path fascinated some people. Iruka didn’t know the details, but he did know that.

“I graduated at five.”

Iruka’s head whipped around to stare at him. He’d heard that it had been early, but he hadn’t known that it had been that early. “You were made a genin at five years old?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I was eleven.” And even that felt young to Iruka in hindsight. Five years old was unimaginable. “You didn’t attend for a long time, I guess.”

“No, just a year or so. I guess I didn’t make as many memories as others did here but they’re still… vivid.”

“They can be. For many kids, it’s their first time having a proper schedule each day. They make new friends, learn new things. It can be an exciting time. Especially the first year,” Iruka explained almost automatically. He said something along those lines to parents now and again. So the words came out without much thought as his mind was still wrapping itself around the idea of five-year-old Kakashi having been an adult by shinobi law.

“Hm. Makes sense, I guess.” Kakashi glanced at him. “Do I look funny, sensei?”

Iruka realized belatedly that he had been staring and pointedly looked away. “No, I’m just a bit blown away by you getting handed a forehead protector when you were five.”

Kakashi smiled. “Would it help to know that it didn’t fit me right? The shield kept slipping over my eyes.”

All that did was make Iruka picture an adorable little five-year-old Kakashi proudly trying to tie his own forehead protector. Although maybe his parents had helped him out. “So you joined a genin team right away?”

“Yeah, but I was bounced around between jōnin-sensei for a while before I found my team. Made chūnin somewhere along the line. I was called a prodigy, but honestly, we were at war and they needed shinobi, so I imagine promotions came more easily back then.”

Iruka had no doubts that promotions were easier to come by in times of war when a greater need for people to fulfill certain roles conflicted with a large amount of lives being lost. But he doubted that Kakashi being made genin at five was a result of that in any way. He didn’t think that Kakashi fully believed that himself, either. Maybe he was just trying to make it seem like he wasn’t bragging. Not that Iruka thought it was, even though he knew many people who would have envied such an accomplished person. All Iruka could think about was that tiny little Kakashi being given a huge responsibility. Becoming a genin at that age must have cut his actual childhood awfully short. But it wasn’t Iruka’s place to broach that subject. They hadn’t been friends that long.

“I probably could have graduated sooner,” Iruka said instead, “if I hadn’t goofed off so much.”

“Oh?” Kakashi looked at him. “Right. You were a prankster, weren’t you?”

“I was the worst,” Iruka proclaimed with a grin. “Every teacher knew my name. Even those who never taught me. And I think a few ANBU resented me.”

Kakashi eyed him. “The kid pranking ANBU, that was you?”

“Hard to believe nowadays, I know. But I kept them on their toes.”

“You had nerve,” Kakashi observed. “Or just a death wish.”

Iruka chuckled. “I was a kid and I was stupid. I settled down a bit when I made genin. But it was a lot of fun.”

“I guess I’ll have to be careful around you.”

“You better be,” Iruka agreed and smirked. “I may not be pranking a lot of people anymore, but I never lost the skill.”

“’Do not upset Iruka-sensei’. Duly noted.”

Iruka grinned in satisfaction before continuing to eat. He finished his bentō and they got back to work. In spite of their mishap regarding the two-lefthander, the rest of the lot proved easier to build with the knowledge gained from the first one. Kakashi and Iruka worked separately to get the work done as quickly as possible, helping each other out whenever necessary and chatting about unrelated things sometimes. As the sun moved, so did they, making an effort to stay in the shade of the tree.

Iruka told Kakashi a little more about how terrible the investment in the dummies was. The headmaster could have bought better training weapons or books or literally anything else that would have been more beneficial for the education of the students. There were even renovations that the school building was in desperate need of, but the headmaster seemed to forget about those whenever the Academy had some money to spare.

Kakashi mostly listened to Iruka’s rants as he usually did. Iruka had learned that conversations with Kakashi could often be rather one-sided, with Kakashi being relegated to a passive listening role. Which was where he seemed to be very comfortable. He offered quips and insights and shared his own thoughts and stories when Iruka asked, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t participating. Iruka could tell that Kakashi rarely shared everything and Iruka didn’t ask him to. Kakashi was the kind of person to keep things close to the chest. In spite of Iruka’s misgivings about secrecy among his friends, it didn’t really bother him. The omissions never seemed to concern him in any way. But he hoped that someday in the future, Kakashi wasn’t going to feel the need to hide himself so much.

The sun was just brushing up against the horizon by the time they finished their project and a small army of brand new training dummies was standing in the yard.

Kakashi and Iruka looked over their handiwork. Iruka frowned.

“Is it just me or are they extremely creepy?”

Kakashi nodded. “We could station them around the city wall. I could see them being an effective defensive measure.”

“The twilight really isn’t helping,” Iruka observed.

“Makes them look eerie,” Kakashi agreed.

Iruka sighed. He could already see himself three weeks from now disassembling them all because no one on staff could bear to look at them.

“They might start moving if we look away,” Kakashi said.

Iruka snorted. “I doubt they’re actually possessed, Kakashi-san.”

“You can’t know for sure.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know if we need to call a shrine maiden,” Iruka promised. He turned to Kakashi. “Anyway. Thanks for your help. I probably would have had to set up camp here to get this done myself.”

“It was no problem.” Kakashi hesitated. He looked aside. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody?”

Iruka narrowed his eyes. Once again confused by Kakashi’s insistence on broadcasting the worst side of himself. “Do you want people to think that you’re lazy?”

Kakashi’s shoulders hunched for a moment. So he did. “Maa, I just don’t want people asking me for favors. This was more of an exception.”

Iruka remembered Gai saying something similar a while ago. But in spite of Kakashi’s supposed aversion to helping people out, he didn’t seem to have any qualms about offering Iruka favors. Strange. Maybe he was more suspicious than Iruka had thought. Iruka tried to ignore that idea. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Anyway, I’ll just clear the boxes and then it’s finally done. We could grab a cup of tea if you’d like to? My treat.”

“Ah, thanks, but I was actually on the way to the Mission Desk earlier. Godaime told me to pick something up by the end of the day.”

Iruka stared. “And you didn’t go? It’s already sunset!”

“Which is not the end of the day,” Kakashi said sagely. “It’s fine. Godaime knows better than to give me a time window like that if it’s urgent.”

“If you say so. Well, thank you again for your help.”

“Sure. See you.” Kakashi gave him a smile and a wave and disappeared.

Iruka sighed fondly before putting away the boxes. The temperature outside had already dropped somewhat and it was bearable to be out in the last rays of sunlight. As soon as he turned his back toward the training dummies, he felt strangely unsettled, so he tidied up while glancing over his shoulder every now and again.

As it turned out, the training dummies were not only creepy but also not all that durable and lasted for all of two weeks when being subjected to energetic pre-genin. Iruka’s colleagues gave him apologetic looks when the headmaster demanded that they be removed, meaning that he had put in all that time for nothing.

He found that he didn’t mind at all.

Chapter Text

Present day

Kakashi walked out of the meeting room with a nearly overwhelming urge to slam the door and throw his hat onto the ground.

He suppressed it. The only thing allowing him to do so were years of maintaining a cool and collected exterior even when the inside of him was raging like an untamed beast. He closed the door quietly and his hat stayed firmly on his head as he made his way down the hallway. A chūnin smiled at him and gave him a respectful bow as he walked past her and he returned a polite nod while he seethed.

‘How dare they?’ was the phrase that Kakashi’s mind kept spitting with burning hatred. How dared the elders think that they had any claim to his bloodline?

Emotions roiled in Kakashi’s gut that he found difficult to name. Some acidic combination of rage and disgust that felt like it was leaking into his veins and coursing through his system like venom. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw. But he opened the door to his office without a word and walked over to his desk. He wanted to sweep all the documents to the floor. He yearned to tear them apart, to shred ink and paper and to create an irreparable mess.

“Ah, you’re back. How did it go?” Shikamaru asked from the doorway.

Kakashi wanted to whip around to snap and yell as if Shikamaru was to blame for it all. He turned around slowly. “Oh, you know,” he said casually and shrugged. “Stubborn old people.”

Shikamaru frowned as Kakashi walked around his desk and sat down behind it. He looked at the wood and pictured how satisfying it would have looked as kindling for a particularly explosive Fire Release jutsu.

“Anything I should know about?” Shikamaru asked after a brief pause. He entered the office properly and closed the door behind himself. “Or anything you need me to do?”

Find an ANBU who had no qualms disposing of the two oldest beings in Konoha. “Nah, nothing,” Kakashi drawled. He picked up a document from one of the ever-growing stacks on his desk just to have something to occupy his hands with and something to look at that wasn’t a pair of terribly discerning eyes. “I was merely given some personal advice.”

“Personal advice? Did they complain about your leadership?”

“Something like that.” Kakashi finally looked at his assistant. “Do you need to get back to Shigeru-san? I’d hate to keep you. And do you know when my next appointment is? You shuffled some things around, right?”

Shikamaru looked unimpressed with the very blatant subject change but thankfully didn’t comment on it. “We’re done with the meeting for now.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “And your next appointment is in 20 minutes. Need me to push it back?”

“No, that’s fine. It’s the city architect, right? I could use a palate cleanser.”

“Alright.” Shikamaru approached the desk and dumped a plastic bag that Kakashi probably should have noticed before on top of it. “You could probably use a lunch, too, Rokudaime-sama.”

Kakashi blinked stupidly at the bag before peering inside. The smell and shape of the takeout containers looked like his assistant had gotten him a small selection of yakitori on rice. The scent was divine and it made Kakashi realize that he was absolutely starving. He glanced up at Shikamaru. “Whatever Konoha is paying you, it’s not enough.”

The corner of Shikamaru’s mouth quirked up. “Keep that in mind for the next performance review.” He turned to leave. “Try not to stain the robe. And don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kakashi replied before taking off his hat and putting it aside, suddenly intensely focused on the meal in front of him.

Shikamaru paused by the door. “And for the record,” he said without looking back. His voice betrayed his hesitance. “I think you’re a good leader. And I think most people in Konoha would agree.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows as he stared at the back of his normally unemotive assistant. He smiled. “Thank you, Shikamaru-kun.”

Shikamaru nodded and left the room, leaving Kakashi with his food and his thoughts.

Kakashi took the takeout container out of the bag and opened the lid, releasing another waft of that enticing smell before he picked up the chopsticks, broke them apart and pulled down his mask. He tucked into his meal and with nothing to distract him, the elders and their rage-inducing words took center stage in his mind again.

‘It’s your duty as the last Hatake heir to continue the bloodline.’

The bloodline. As if it was some nebulous, disconnected thing and not his very DNA.

‘You’re no longer on field duty, and it’s befitting of a Hokage your age to have a wife and family.’

As if something like a wife and family were just trophies to parade around, not an investment of time and effort all on their own.

‘We can make the arrangements if need be, but we wanted to give you the option to handle things yourself.’

The option. The option. The option to choose whom to trap in a loveless marriage. Whom to betray Iruka with. Whom to spawn a kid with that he didn’t want and didn’t want to care for. What a joke.

Kakashi had decided long ago that he wasn’t going to have children. Long before Iruka had ever given him the time of day, even. He had never found appeal in the romanticized idea of parenthood that seemed to inspire others to procreate. He didn’t want the responsibility of an offspring and he couldn’t imagine himself generating the kind of nurturing behavior parents were supposed to exhibit. Sage knew that his relationship with Iruka was intact because of Iruka’s social skills, not his.

He’d never regretted not trying to find a partner to have kids with. When people around his age had started becoming parents, all he’d ever felt was relief that it hadn’t been him. He had found family in something other than blood.

Even if that was, on some level, selfish.

Kakashi was aware that the military strength of his village didn’t just come from well-trained ninja. It was also based on its powerful clans with their secret techniques and kekkei genkai. Other Hidden Villages had killed for just one stolen dōjutsu eye like the Sharingan or the Byakugan. They blanched with envy at the interrogation skills of the Yamanaka and cowered before the wits and tactics of the Nara. And yes, they feared the name ‘Hatake’ for the famously fierce and skilled warriors bearing it in the past.

There was a thought experiment there that Kakashi despised but couldn’t help subjecting himself to. If all clan children suddenly made the same choice as him, it was going to weaken Konoha considerably in the future. He needed the tracking abilities of the Inuzuka. He knew how to assemble a squad backed by the powerhouse that was one of the Akimichi. And he knew how to employ the excellent recon abilities of the Aburame.

And if it was true that what made Kakashi a deadly ninja was not nurture but nature, he was robbing future Konoha of a shinobi with a strong and versatile skillset. Past Hokage had put Kakashi on teams to act in any number of roles. Or sent him out in place of a squad. Such a soldier was valuable.

At the same time, he could hardly imagine a more callous thought than having a child he held no love for just to turn them into a soldier for the village’s convenience. The village turned people into tools, but Kakashi couldn’t bear to create a human as a tool from scratch.

His father had trained him, but he had loved him, too. Sakumo had been a man of many faults, but while he had been alive, whenever he had been around, he had shown Kakashi love and affection. He had carried Kakashi around on his shoulders, had held him after a bad dream, had made him his favorite meals after returning from a mission. He had tried. Kakashi wasn’t sure he do even just that.

‘Think of the Hatake name,’ the elders had said.

And he had. It was a good name, he supposed, as far as names went. Even if it had been disgraced once, even if Kakashi didn’t bear its crest on his clothes, it was something he’d inherited from his father and appreciated for that reason. But it was just that – a name. Many greater ones had been lost throughout history and Kakashi didn’t mind taking this one to the grave. It could still gather some fame while attached to him as he did something good for Konoha and the world. Good in the form of revolution and reforms. Not in the form of a little shinobi-to-be.

‘Think of your father’s legacy,’ the elders had urged.

And just remembering it made him grind his teeth and glare at his meal. His father’s legacy? That was him. Kakashi was his father’s legacy. And maybe it could have been more than that if people like the elders hadn’t condemned Sakumo all those years ago. If they hadn’t stoked the flames of his slander as if it was a fire to warm themselves by. Only to stand at his grave with a sneer. They had no right to invoke Sakumo’s name. Not when they had taken part in dragging it through the dirt so far that Kakashi’s father had lost every spark of hope and succumbed to the darkness they had encouraged.

But maybe that’s why they had brought him up. As a twisted, veiled threat. They had all but forced the hand of one Hatake. Maybe they figured they could force another. Not to grip a blade to turn on himself but to take the hand of some bride to become a parent. Slander was not a new concept to Kakashi. He had been a pariah more than once in his life. Konoha regarded him largely favorably at the moment, sure, but there were exceptions to that favor. And with the right pressure, opinions could shift like the winds.

And not just opinions about him.

Kakashi stared at his half-eaten meal.

All of his burdens were no longer just his. He’d handled the whispering and the stares and the avoidance of a tarnished reputation before. Iruka had not. Not in that exact same way, at least. Iruka had had his own share of rumors to deal with in the past, from the people glaring at him for caring about Naruto to the people who distrusted him because he’d been close to someone who had turned out to be a traitor. But none of those incidents had circled around him. He’d only been suspected by association.

Iruka had never gone through a time when the whole village had turned against him. He wasn’t meek or helpless and he could ignore someone better than most. But he’d never been ostracized, not really. Right now, the village loved Iruka. And the last time someone that had been loved by the community had then been cast out by it, slandered and resented, that person hadn’t been able to endure. And Kakashi hadn’t been enough reason for that person to stay. He hadn’t been enough of a tether to the living world to save them. Not smart enough or strong enough to help in any way that had mattered.

Kakashi couldn’t let it come to that again.

If the elders ever found out about Iruka, he was going to be seen as an obstacle. One they were going to eliminate in whatever way they saw fit. And how difficult was it to slander an Academy instructor into submission? In a village that had more rumors than secrets?

Kakashi grit his teeth.

He’d played nice during the meeting. He had pointed out that he had other priorities and at their urging he had acquiesced to ‘thinking about it’. He had needed time to think, regroup and form a strategy. Ideally one what was going to convince the elders that a Hatake child was not needed, therefore rendering the whole idea of marriage moot.

His grip on his chopsticks tightened. Telling the elders ‘no’ was only going to generate pushback. And he couldn’t allow them to start looking into him more closely. At the same time, he couldn’t let them try to go forward with their schemes. He was going to have to find a way to handle this. And to protect Iruka from all of it.

-

In the privacy of his mind, Iruka was forced to admit to himself that Kakashi had been right. Things were starting to get out of hand. His conversation with Genma had only been proof of that.

The gossip hounds were biting at his ankles and eagerly sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, trying to sniff out his secrets and making up stories for whatever they couldn’t find.

Contrary to Genma’s apparent belief, Iruka didn’t actually care if people thought his standards were too high, that he was too picky or that he was just a lost cause of some kind. He couldn’t care less if they thought he was an idiot for not giving Kumi a proper chance or if they took it as proof that he was somehow romantically inept.

The only thing he cared about was that they didn’t find out the truth. They could say that he didn’t like Kumi, they just couldn’t find out that he didn’t like women. And they could say that he didn’t want a relationship, they just couldn’t find out that he was already in one. And most of all, they couldn’t find out the combination of those two pieces of information and draw a conclusion from that.

People called Iruka stubborn and they weren’t wrong, but he could recognize when he had underestimated something. And his ‘date’ with Kumi certainly fell into that category. Naruto had escalated things drastically. Bringing one or two women from the village around to meet him was one thing. But organizing for some famous foreigner who was in town on a political mission to meet him to dine at a high-end dinner location in a private, romantically lit room was something else entirely.

Who knew what he had in store next?

Iruka should have spoken to Naruto about it immediately. He hadn’t and he was paying the price. So he was going to handle it belatedly that night.

He finished his Mission Desk shift that evening with this resolve. He stood outside by the front gate of the wall encircling the Hoakge Tower to gather himself for the task ahead. It was a chilly evening and Iruka appreciated it. The cold helped him to clear his head and to plan out the conversation in advance – as much as any conversation with Naruto could be planned.

He still didn’t like the idea of lying to him. So, he tried to focus on the relief that was sure to come once this conversation was had and done. That once the matchmaking attempts stopped, so would the probing questions. And then Kakashi and him were going to be able to keep going as they had been. Meeting up in his apartment. By themselves.

Always.

Footsteps approached. Iruka looked up. “Oh, Shikamaru-kun.”

Shikamaru paused. “Iruka-sensei.”

For a moment that immediately turned awkward, they just looked at each other. Shikamaru knew about Kakashi’s and Iruka’s relationship, as Kakashi had told Iruka one night. It made him unsure of how to proceed. Iruka only ever saw Shikamaru briefly these days and they never exchanged more than a casual ‘hello’. But ever since he had learned the truth, Shikamaru regarded him differently. Though Iruka couldn’t pinpoint what exactly the difference was.

It didn’t feel like judgment. And it didn’t feel particularly negative. More like Shikamaru was just seeing him in a different light. Like he suddenly played a different role in the infinite game of shōgi that went on Shikamaru’s head. The strategic lens through which he viewed the world shifting Iruka’s position within it.

“Are you done for the day?” Iruka asked conversationally when the silence became too heavy.

“Ah, yeah. Kakashi-sama told me to go home,” Shikamaru explained. “You?”

“My shift ended, too. I was just taking a breather. Long day.”

Shikamaru hummed in consideration. Iruka remembered that he had never really been someone who engaged in small talk. But he was making an effort for some reason. He cleared his throat. “Seems to be going around.”

“What?”

“Long days,” Shikamaru said and looked up at the windows of the Hokage’s office as an explanation.

Iruka looked, too. He frowned, then, immediately worried. “Yeah, they’re really going around,” Iruka agreed.

“Probably wouldn’t hurt to take it a bit easier sometimes,” Shikamaru pondered out loud as he continued to look up at the office windows.

“Maybe not,” Iruka agreed while he wondered what exactly to make of Shikamaru’s words.

Shikamaru just nodded. “Well, I’m off. Goodnight, Iruka-sensei.”

“Goodnight.”

Shikamaru walked past him. Iruka looked after him for a moment, then back up at the windows. Something must have happened. Iruka only hoped that it was nothing too taxing. Kakashi really had a knack for forgetting to take care of himself when things got busy. Maybe Kakashi was going to tell him about it that night, if he got the chance to stop by. But if there was a lot going on in that office, Iruka didn’t hold out hope that he was going to.

Regardless, Iruka had something important to take care of himself.

He arrived at the home of the Uzumaki household fairly quickly. Naruto and Hinata had moved into a quaint little house together. It was picturesque. Painted in light colors with flower pots bearing beautiful plants standing out front. The two of them were living the dream. Got together in their youth, got married, bought a little house big enough to feel spacious and small enough to feel cozy. They absolutely deserved every bit of happiness. Next up was probably kids. Iruka knew that Naruto wanted to be a father – though he privately thought that nineteen was perhaps a bit young to start that particular journey. Not that Iruka had any experience or ambitions to speak of in that regard.

Some of the lights in the house were on. In a different world, Kakashi would have been by Iruka’s side right then and they would have visited together. Hinata would have greeted them at the door with a smile and accepted a little gift before inviting them inside to partake in a family dinner with Naruto and herself.

Iruka shook his head. No time for fantasies. He steeled himself and made his way to the front door to ring the bell. He put on his best stern teacher face in preparation. No matter Naruto’s good intentions and no matter how much Iruka cared about him, he had to tell him to stop and he had to make it absolutely clear that he meant it.

The door opened. It was Hinata. Iruka’s stern expression immediately melted into a smile.

“Oh, Iruka-sensei. Good evening,” she greeted with a smile of her own.

“Good evening. Er, is Naruto home? I just wanted to speak with him.”

Hinata nodded. “He is upstairs. Come in.” She opened the door further to let him inside.

Iruka was about to decline and ask her to have Naruto come outside. But her demeanor was warm and welcoming and maybe this was a conversation best had indoors anyway. So he stepped inside, apologized for the intrusion, left his shoes by the door and followed her into the living room. It was a nicely decorated space. Not as cluttered as some of his own apartment was, but clearly furnished with love and attention to detail. Trinkets on window sills, pictures on walls and adorable embroidered pillows on the couch. Iruka accredited the pleasantness – and cleanliness – of the space entirely to Hinata. Perhaps he had to have a talk with Naruto about chores while he was at it.

Hinata offered for him to sit on the couch and Iruka did.

“I’ll go fetch him,” she said and left the room.

Iruka wrung his hands while he waited. He had been here before, but as lovely a space as it was, it was still strange to be in Naruto’s house. He was all grown up and settled down with a wife. It made Iruka smile. If he thought about it for too long, he was going to tear up with pride. No. He couldn’t get soft. He had to remain stern. Naruto wasn’t going to think he was being serious if he didn’t act like it.

There was the sound of someone coming down the stairs in the hallway and a moment later, Naruto appeared in the doorway of the living room, Hinata on his heels. She excused herself to make tea while Naruto approached.

“Are you here to thank me?” was the first thing he asked instead of a greeting, with a bright grin plastered onto his face. “You don’t have to. I’m happy to help, y’know!”

“Hello, Naruto. I assume you mean my outing with Kumi-san. I did come here to talk to you about that,” Iruka said, already exasperated but trying to stay calm.

“I don’t need any details,” Naruto announced as he sat down opposite of Iruka. “Like, at all. Please. You can just tell me it went well and that’s all I ever need to hear about it. No gross details, please.”

“No, that’s- Do you think I’d want to share anything like that with you?!” Iruka snapped before shaking his head and sighing. “No, I came here to ask you not to do that again.”

“Hum? Not do what again?”

“Ambush me with a date!”

Hinata came into the room to place two mugs of tea onto the table and Iruka flushed, regretting raising his voice like that. But Hinata just smiled before she excused herself again, likely to give them some privacy to talk. She closed the door as she left.

“Naruto,” Iruka tried again, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need you to go out and find me dates.”

“So you didn’t like her?” Naruto asked.

“Not like that, no. She was nice and I’m sure she’s a good person. But that’s it.”

“Why didn’t you like her?” Naruto looked like he was trying to figure something out.

Iruka was starting to resent this question already. Couldn’t he simply be uninterested in someone without it being a big deal? “I just didn’t. There’s no particular reason.”

“No reason? None at all?”

Iruka hesitated. “No.”

Naruto seemed to think about that really hard. He frowned. “You’ve got some seriously high standards, Iruka-sensei.”

Hokage and above. Or something like that. There was something uncomfortable about Naruto trying to assess his dating preferences, but he ignored that in favor of figuring out the best way to get his message across. “I do,” he agreed. “So, like I said, I sincerely appreciate you wanting to set me up with someone. But you shouldn’t. I’m an adult, I can handle this myself.”

“Can you?” Naruto challenged.

“Of course I can!”

“It’s just- you haven’t, yet. And I figure you should sooner rather than later, right? I mean, you’re not getting any younger.”

Iruka crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not that old! And even if I was, that doesn’t mean I can’t handle this by myself.”

“But what if you can’t? You don’t want to be alone, do you?” Naruto looked at him with big questioning eyes.

The lie was on the tip of Iruka’s tongue. It rested there, waiting to be spoken. ‘I prefer to be alone.’ But he looked at Naruto and he thought about Kakashi. And the lie got stuck. As much as he tried, Iruka couldn’t force it across his lips. He couldn’t say it to Naruto. And he couldn’t speak away the comfort and love of having Kakashi in his life. He couldn’t. “No, I don’t,” he admitted, “but I’m not alone! I have so many people that I love and cherish. I really don’t need any more.”

“That’s not the same, though! You deserve someone to come home to! Someone good!”

“Thank you for thinking that way. But even if, you can’t just put me in a room with someone and expect us to hit it off. Feelings are more complicated than that. And I think you know that. People need to connect in a very specific way. And there’s no way you could completely predict how two people get along. I know you know me well, but my dating life is something you’re not that familiar with,” Iruka explained. “And I prefer it that way.”

Naruto continued to make that expression where he was thinking very intently about something. There was a moment of silence and then he nodded, seemingly having reached some conclusion. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes, alright. No more ambush dates. I promise, y’know!”

Iruka’s shoulders sagged in relief. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“But just so you know: You’re really popular.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah.” Naruto nodded. “Lots of people are interested in you. So, you know, if you do go out with someone, make sure it’s not a weirdo.”

Ah. Too late. “I’ll do my best.”

“Ahh, does this mean I have to apologize to Kumi-onee-chan? For you breaking her heart?”

Iruka laughed. “I sincerely don’t think that she was that broken up over it. You should probably apologize to her for the rest, though.”

“Like what?”

“Like that you didn’t tell me about her. At all. That could have been really embarrassing for her.”

Naruto grumbled. “I guess I’ll apologize to her for that.”

“Good.” Iruka smiled. He looked down at his tea, then the door of the living room. “I guess I should get going then.”

“What?” Naruto exclaimed in obvious dismay. “But you just got here!”

“Uninvited and unannounced,” Iruka reminded. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on Hinata-chan’s and your evening any further.”

“That’s fine! You’re family, Iruka-sensei! Family can’t intrude, y’know? You should stick around.”

Iruka was pretty certain that there were a lot of people with families who would have disagreed. But the sentiment made him smile. “If you insist. But ask Hinata-chan if it’s okay. And suggest for her to join us if she is alright with me sticking around, I’d hate for her to just wait for me to leave.”

“Yeah, of course! She’ll love to talk to you, too, y’know,” Naruto announced.

Iruka smiled fondly. “I hope that’s true.”

And so, Hinata joined them back at the table and Iruka ended up staying for a few hours. Definitely longer than he had originally intended. Hinata and Naruto talked about the sights they’d seen on their honeymoon. Mostly, Hinata brought up a topic and looked to Naruto who then talked about it at great length and with probably some exaggerations. He also shared anecdotes about people walking up to him, recognizing him and how he hadn’t known what to say to them.

Iruka let himself be regaled with their stories. He was reminded of all those times Naruto had told him about D-rank missions over ramen years ago and noted how much times had changed. Now, instead of hearing complaints about Kakashi’s teaching, he was being told things about a honeymoon by a married man. Being treated in every way like a precious family member.

When it was time to leave, Iruka said his goodbyes with a genuine smile. He took a deep breath of fresh air and started making his way home. He felt lighter than he had in days. Not only had he had a pleasant evening with one of the most important people in his life, he’d made Naruto see sense. No more ill-fated matchmaking attempts. And no more unfounded interest in Iruka’s love life and also, hopefully, no more gossip. Things were going to go back to the way they had been. Just him and Kakashi. In hiding.

Iruka’s smile faltered. His chest felt a little tight.

He’d known what he’d been getting into when he’d started his relationship with Kakashi. And he’d made the same choice again when Tsunade had named Kakashi her successor. Kakashi had given him countless outs along the way and Iruka had refused each and every one of them. He didn’t regret that – he sincerely wanted to be with him. But there were a lot of aspects to hate about the whole situation. Lying to Naruto was one of those and he resented it with a passion.

He hoped that he wasn’t going to have to lie as blatantly now with everything else going back to normal.

There was an idea there, a thought he’d had before, that he was trying to ignore. That maybe things didn’t actually have to be like this. That Naruto would have understood and not minded keeping their secret.

The thought brought with it imaginings of Naruto coming over to visit Kakashi and him, perhaps bringing Hinata along. Naruto would have said something rude to Kakashi, Kakashi would have brushed it off and Iruka would have yelled at Naruto for it before apologizing to Hinata for the manners of her husband which he clearly hadn’t put enough work into.

Then again, Iruka’s own husband-

Iruka froze. His face became hot.

His partner. His boyfriend. Not his husband. Never his husband.

Something unpleasant crept up his spine. Like a distant memory.

He tried to shake it off and hurried the rest of the way home. The lights were off when he entered. The space was cold and empty. Iruka frowned. He had hoped to encounter a different sight – that of Kakashi waiting for him in his living room or standing by the stove in the kitchen. But as he had feared, Kakashi was apparently working late again.

Sighing, Iruka toed off his shoes after closing the door. When he made his way further into the apartment, he noticed a note on the table.

‘I can’t make it tonight. I’m sorry.’

Beside it, in a vase, sat a singular red tulip.

Iruka brushed his fingertips over the head of the tulip, feeling the soft, fresh petals of a recently picked flower. Kakashi didn’t always leave a note when he couldn’t make it and he only occasionally had his note accompanied by a little gift, so at least there was that. But Iruka couldn’t stifle his disappointment. He’d been looking forward to holding Kakashi and being held in return. And to telling him about Genma at work and Naruto after work and to find out why Kakashi’s day had been so long, according to Shikamaru.

But it wasn’t meant to be. It was fine. Kakashi always had a lot on his plate and it wasn’t unusual that he couldn’t visit because of it. They were going to talk the next evening, most likely. It was going to be fine.

Iruka had cleared things up with Naruto, after all. So everything was going to go back to normal soon.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

With Naruto gone, Iruka had expected an uneventful summer, perhaps even a lonely one. But as the weeks passed with the heat peaking and eventually turning milder, that wave of loneliness never hit.

Because in between seeing friends and colleagues, Iruka met with Kakashi. Often enough that he even began to miss him during his absences.

Whenever they parted ways in front of a restaurant, on the street or wherever else they found themselves together, Iruka wanted to grab Kakashi’s shoulder and ask him to prolong their time together. But he had no intention of being seen as clingy or needy, so he never did. Instead, he headed home, already looking forward to the next time they were going to see each other.

Kakashi had climbed to a special spot in Iruka’s list of friends in record time. One that apparently awarded him being missed and daydreamed about while he was gone.

This wasn’t helped by the fact that Iruka was still very much attracted to the man. He’d thought, once, that getting to know Kakashi would have killed some of his mystique and therefore his allure, but he’d been dead wrong.

Sure, Iruka had found out just how awkward and secretive Kakashi was and what skewed views of duty he held.

But all Iruka was really doing by becoming closer and closer friends with him was gathering more and more pieces to admire. Kakashi was genuinely good and, beneath it all, truly kind in a way that Iruka found wildly attractive. Not to mention his quick wit and sharp skills.

So it only made sense that Iruka looked forward to seeing him again when he was gone.

What wasn’t quite so clear was why Kakashi was interested in befriending Iruka of all people. Iruka liked his job and was proud of his rank, but neither were seen as particularly glamorous. His lived experiences, and therefore the things he could share and talk about, largely revolved around teaching, performing administrative tasks and completing delivery missions. None of that should have been interesting to the likes of Kakashi.

It made Iruka uneasy when he thought about it for too long. His shoulders grew tense and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Like his instincts were telling him to be careful. Like he was missing something. But he couldn’t very well ask Kakashi about it.

So as the weeks of summer went on, Iruka did his best to enjoy their time together for what it was without questioning why it was. And it wasn’t too difficult to forget his worries while they were actually together. He fully enjoyed himself as they drank together in a mediocre izakaya, took walks along the creak just outside of Konoha and once even shared a fresh watermelon atop Hokage Rock in the warm light of the setting sun. That last memory in particular, one of Kakashi easily cutting a watermelon and handing Iruka a juicy slice with a kind smile to the backdrop of an orange sky, made Iruka’s heart pound faster whenever it came to his mind.

And so, with autumn on the horizon, Iruka realized that he’d had a good summer after all.

It was a day in early September and Kakashi and him were walking side by side through Konoha to visit a tea house Iruka had suggested. The suggestion had received an immediate ‘sure, let’s go’ from Kakashi which had made Iruka smile. As they made their way through town, Iruka told Kakashi about his favorite tea blends at the shop and promised to recommend Kakashi something he was going to like. Iruka was just asking Kakashi when he’d last visited a tea house when they were stopped in their tracks. Someone had appeared right in front of them. A person dressed in a lilac flak vest and a porcelain mask. An ANBU.

“Kakashi-san,” the ANBU said, masked face turning toward their apparent target, “Hokage-sama wants to see you.”

Iruka’s heart sank and he couldn’t suppress the accompanying frown. He glanced at Kakashi, unwilling but ready to say goodbye to him once again.

Kakashi kept his eye on the ANBU for a moment before asking, “can it wait about 30 minutes or so?”

Iruka raised his eyebrows. The ANBU cocked their head and replied with a flat, “no.”

“Right then,” Kakashi said as if he had expected as much. He sighed and turned to Iruka. “Sorry, sensei. I’ll have to take a raincheck on the tea.”

“That’s alright,” Iruka assured. Not because it was alright but because it wasn’t Kakashi’s fault that he was being whisked away. Iruka forced a smile he didn’t feel like making. “Take care. Do your best.”

“I’ll try.”

The ANBU took off and Iruka watched as Kakashi nodded to him before following. The moment Kakashi’s back was turned Iruka’s smile dropped and his shoulders sagged. He was so sure that Kakashi really would have liked the oolong tea Iruka had wanted to recommend to him. He shook his head. There was no use dwelling on it. Such were shinobi friendships.

Iruka went on to the tea house anyway. If nothing else, he deserved some warm herbal comfort. Plus, he had to make sure that the place was up to snuff for when his friend returned.

-

Kakashi grimaced as he followed the ANBU into the direction of the Hokage Tower.

Just a little later and he could have had a nice cup of tea with Iruka before leaving. But he was a shinobi and that unfortunately took precedence. The ANBU gave him no further information about why he had been summoned. He had expected as much. Any information was likely classified thrice over. It still grated to be told nothing and be asked to abandon his friend for it.

When Kakashi got close to the Tower, the ANBU disappeared, leaving Kakashi to complete the brief trip by himself. This at least gave him the wonderful opportunity to enter the Hokage’s office through the window.

“I swear you’ve never touched a doorhandle in your life, brat,” Tsunade snapped without turning to him as he landed on the window sill.

“What can I say? It’s the easiest point of access.” Kakashi entered the room, closed the window behind himself and went to stand in front of the desk.

Tsunade huffed and gave him an unimpressed look before finally telling him why he was there. “I’ve got a mission for you.” She tossed him a scroll and he caught it with ease. “I know you haven’t been back for long, but it’s urgent and you’re qualified.”

“That’s fine, I can go.” The only major, major downside to him going was missing his chance to go to a tea house with Iruka and drink Iruka-approved tea blends. Which honestly could have been worth some insubordination.

“A small village on the border to the Land of Rivers was attacked. Reports indicate that it might have been an S-rank criminal. It’s believed that he headed north, we suspect into Earth territory. I need you to go and find out why he attacked that village. And, if necessary, to track him and take him out.”

Kakashi hummed. “It’s a solo mission?”

“Yes. Officially, we’d need special permission from the Tsuchikage to send our shinobi into the Land of Earth, but we don’t have that kind of time. If you have to pursue, you’ll need to be covert. And if you get caught -”

“-I acted as a rogue ninja,” Kakashi finished. “I understand.”

Tsunade nodded. Her brow was furrowed and she was biting her lip. She didn’t seem too pleased with her own orders. “Will you be ready to leave within an hour?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then go. And be careful.”

“I always am,” he drawled. For whose benefit he said it, he wasn’t sure. They both knew that it wasn’t true.

He left through the window again, much to Tsunade’s repeated chagrin, and took the fastest route to his apartment. He equipped himself with everything he needed for a longer mission from there before he stopped by the jōnin armory to get whatever was left. By the time he was done – which included jumping through several unnecessary paperwork hoops to get new weaponry – he had fifteen minutes of his allotted hour left. In non-critical circumstances he would have stretched that time a bit without issue, but given the seriousness of the mission, he knew better.

But fifteen minutes were fifteen minutes.

And before he knew it, Kakashi was standing in front of the tea house that Iruka had described to him. There wasn’t enough time for a peaceful cup of tea but there was enough time to go in for a proper goodbye. But Kakashi hesitated. There was no reason for him to tell Iruka that he was going on a mission, Iruka had deduced that himself. And it was weird for Kakashi to tell Iruka that he was going to be gone for a week at least because, well, friends or not, why would Iruka have cared? He probably didn’t keep a calendar for mission-based absences for each of his friends.

So Kakashi lingered. The truth was that he simply wanted to go in and tell him. Maybe because he was still bothered by missing out on tea with him. In the last weeks, Kakashi had absorbed each shared moment as if he had been starved for them. All of Iruka’s words, smiles and laughter. Stolen little treasures. Kakashi sometimes felt like he was wearing someone else’s body in Iruka’s presence. The shape of someone deserving of such a kind and attentive friend. He must have been deceiving Iruka in some way, scamming him out of his kindness while giving him nothing in return.

Then occasionally, he wondered whether he could become someone who could deserve Iruka’s attention. If he wasn’t taking someone else’s place, but rather the place of a version of himself that he could someday be. But then his hands became tacky with blood, lightning sparked through his veins and darkness seeped out of his every pore and he remembered that such a thing was impossible, because his choices had made him who he was and though a person was not immutable, there were things and changes that could not be undone. Like his very soul had undergone a mutation at some point and there was no way to reverse it.

So far, Iruka hadn’t seen that part of his soul. And Kakashi feared the day he was going to.

Still, he stood in front of the tea shop. Like an addict desperate for another dose.

Twelve minutes.

Whatever Iruka saw in him, he had wanted to have tea with him. And he still did. And knowing that Kakashi wasn’t going to return in the next few days was probably going to be helpful to him in that endeavor. Somehow. So Kakashi reached for the doorhandle. But then, what if Iruka had found someone else to go with? The image of Kakashi crashing Iruka’s time with someone else made all of his muscles tense with dread. Kakashi took a breath. Why was this making him so nervous? Why couldn’t he make a simple decision?

Ten minutes.                                                           

Kakashi opened the door. The bell jingled and he scanned the room, ready to bolt if he saw Iruka with someone else. Relief came over whim when he instead spotted Iruka sitting at a table by himself with some notes spread out. Probably some schoolwork. He seemed engrossed. Kakashi walked over before he could think better of it.

“Oh, Kakashi-san,” Iruka said as he looked up. “I thought you left.”

“I will. I’ve been assigned a mission. I probably won’t be back for a while.”

“Ah,” Iruka replied, his smile falling a little. “That’s too bad. But the tea house will still be here when you get back. I’d ask if it’s dangerous but I feel like they wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t.”

“Maa, I’ve been on low stakes missions, too.”

Iruka raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t one of them,” Kakashi amended.

Iruka frowned for a moment but then gave him an encouraging look, instead. “Well, come back safe. And we’ll get some tea.”

Kakashi nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The mission was, in one word, miserable.

Kakashi was prepared for the sense of isolation that sometimes accompanied solo missions. But as he made his way through Fire Country by himself, he realized that he actually enjoyed the peace of the forest. He had no unexpected encounters, made good time and had a good feeling. So the solo mission itself wasn’t that bad.

What awaited him when he arrived at that small border village was.

The mission brief had claimed the village had been attacked. It hadn’t been attacked. It had been decimated. From a distance, it looked like that all that was left were ruins.

Fearing for the worst, Kakashi drew closer and began to investigate. He walked past decaying corpses in between piles of rubble smeared with the blood of the dead. Most of the buildings were completely destroyed, and the ones that weren’t were dangerously close to collapsing under their own weight. Kakashi heard whispers and hurried to find survivors huddled together between the remains of walls, their limbs shaking and their eyes wide with fear as they stared at him, even though the symbol on his forehead promised his allegiance.

He approached slowly and stated his purpose which seemed to calm them. He asked about the attack as gingerly as he could only to find out that they barely comprehended what had happened. They likened the assault to a storm sweeping through their village and taking everything in its way. Kakashi named the criminal from the brief but the name brought no recognition to their tired faces.

Further investigation of the location, the rubble and the deceased revealed that there was a little girl unaccounted for. The villagers apparently hadn’t had the strength to identify all of their dead to realize that she had gone missing. They gave Kakashi a  description of the seven-year-old girl and her name though they didn’t have a clue why she was gone. Kakashi found a scrap of her clothing to track her with.

But before he even thought about leaving, he gathered his chakra and used careful Earth Release jutsu to clear the rubble and create rudimentary shelters, Water Release jutsu to provide a local source for the people to drink from and Fire Release jutsu to, under the watchful eye of the villagers and only after receiving permission, cremate the dead. He also used up most of his medkit to patch up the most serious injuries and offered some advice on how to tend to the wounded. He briefly wished he had the ability to build proper houses or to use medical ninjutsu.

When he’d done everything reasonably within his power to help, he instructed the survivors on how to proceed in the coming days. He also promised them that further help was on the way.

Lastly, he summoned Bisuke and Akino and instructed them to run back to Konoha to request immediate reinforcements and relief efforts. He also summoned Pakkun to help him track the little girl, holding out the piece of cloth for him to sniff and pick up her scent.

Doing all this, he stayed longer in the village than he had planned and he left and pushed onwards at a quickened pace.

The weather turned as Pakkun and him left Fire Country and Kakashi pressed on through days of rain. He avoided a band of thieves in order not to draw attention to himself and gave Ame a wide berth before carrying on into Earth Country in disguise. The rain subsided at that point, but it had cleansed the environment thoroughly, leaving Pakkun unable to track the scent any further. So Kakashi thanked him for his efforts and dismissed him.

Instead of scent, he used other means to find his target. He stopped by villages on the main road under the guise of a weary merchant, subtly gathering information and slowly piecing together the path the criminal had taken. Kakashi lived in his disguise those days, not spending a minute outside of it lest he be uncovered and become a political problem for his home. Piece by piece he gathered the information he needed until he finally had a solid idea of where he needed to go.

This was how, after some more travel, far away from the next Earth village but closer to the border than he had anticipated, he found the criminal’s hideout. Kakashi located its entrance on a steep cliffside, stuck himself to the rock wall with chakra, knocked out the guards and snuck inside. What awaited him there was nothing short of a nightmare: a dimly lit, damp space filled with cells, torture devices and the nearly overwhelming stench of death. Blood covered large areas of stone and the mutilated remains of past captives hung strung up by chains fastened to metal hooks on walls. And, cowering in fear in the furthest corner, surrounded by thick iron bars, was a little girl that never should have witnessed any of it.

Kakashi indicated for her to be quiet when she noticed him approach and she nodded her head as another set of fat tears rolled down her dirty cheeks. Kakashi made quick work of the lock on her cell. As he slowly drew closer, she seemed to notice the leaf on his forehead and her expression changed from fear to pleading as she stood up on shaking legs to come to him.

Kakashi crouched down and offered her a hand to take and she clung to his arm with desperation. There was no point in telling her not to look at the blood and death – she must have seen it all.

He had to get her out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, her retrieval wasn’t Kakashi’s prime objective. He wasn’t done here. So he summoned Bull, Shiba, and Pakkun with strict instructions to protect the girl and bring her out of the hideout and to get her to safety. He also gave them the supplies they were going to need for the trip. The girl was mercifully soothed by the presence of big, lovable Bull and climbed onto his back without much of a fuss. She gave Kakashi a sad look and mumbled a plea for him to come with. He denied her plea. The ninken took her away.

Kakashi then began his search. He found ledgers of the criminal’s dealings and quickly learned that the Tsuchikage himself had ordered for this particular girl – one with special abilities, born in Earth Country and adopted by unsuspecting farmers in Fire Country after ill-fated travels with her parents – to be kidnapped. In exchange for turning a blind eye to some of the criminal’s other activities.

Kakashi could already imagine the fit of rage Godaime was going to have over this. His own blood was boiling.

But as much as Kakashi wanted to stay and challenge the criminal whenever he returned to put a painful end to him, it wasn’t wise to engage a missing-nin in their own hideout and he had to prioritize getting the intelligence back to Konoha and the kidnapped girl back to wherever was going to be safe for her.

But just as he was about to leave, the door opened and Kakashi was displeased to learn that not only was the missing-nin a keen sensor who spotted him immediately in spite of him hiding, he had hired a band of mercenaries. The criminal alone was one that the Bingo Book highly recommended avoiding. In concert with his thugs, it quickly turned into a brutal battle that had Kakashi fighting for his life.

He managed to leave the hideout, drawing them out of the enclosed space as they pursued him. Out in the open, he could more easily reduce their number. It was only then, in proper daylight, that he noticed that some of them were painfully young. Not even adults, if Kakashi estimated correctly. He slaughtered them nonetheless. And the stains on his soul darkened and grew.

They pursued him for quite a while, following him further and further to the edge of Earth Country while he dodged their attacks and took more and more of them down. But he didn’t make it across the border.

Eventually, he was limping and panting and there was only the criminal in charge left. Who said it was an honor to fight Sharingan Kakashi. As if there was honor in any of this. As if fighting Kakashi was a coveted prize for the worst scumbags of all.

Kakashi walked away after a gruelling fight, barely alive. He had grievously injured his opponent and lured him off a cliff. He hadn’t confirmed the kill. He doubted it had actually been one.

Kakashi was drawing in rattled breaths, clutching his bleeding side and stumbling and limping along. His chakra was nearly depleted, he was slow and he was stuck in enemy territory with no hope of extraction. He took a break to patch up his wounds as best he could with what was left of his medkit, but as the deep wound in his side bled sluggishly into the bandages, he knew he needed a medic. He wanted to summon one of his ninken to go fetch help, but expending that much chakra would have killed him. With nothing else to do, he slowly began to make his way back.

It wasn’t long before he collapsed into the side of a boulder and slid down to sit in its shade.

He tried to gulp in air as he held onto his side and all he could see was the face of one of the young mercenaries, twisted in agony as he died by Kakashi’s hand. His boyish face had looked so much like Obito’s. Kakashi wondered whether that boy’s life had been worth less than that of the little girl he’d made sure to save. If one’s deeds determined the value of their self, what did that say about the likes of Kakashi?

Kakashi didn’t know how long he spent sitting there, leaning against that boulder and bleeding. He didn’t take in the sky above him. He must have been able to see it, but it might as well have been a black void. At some point, a familiar darkness began to encroach. It was heavy and cloying and it started to drag Kakashi down to some other, unknown place. His mind became pitch black as the darkness started to consume him, it was his weight and his destination at once – the steep chasm he was sliding towards and the force pushing him there.

The face of the boy returned to him. The faces of others, too. Enemies, comrades, friends. Each of them a reason to let the darkness eat him whole. Home seemed so far away. So unattainable and unimportant. Nothing in comparison to all this darkness. Someone else was going to find the intel and bring it back. The girl was taken care of. So was the little border village. What reason was there not to succumb and let go when all this weight and all this pain and all this awfulness could finally end?

There was Iruka.

Kakashi’s heart ached.

Iruka wasn’t in the darkness. He was radiant, out in the sun. Kakashi was never going to find him in the shadows that called for him. If Kakashi let go, he wasn’t coming back. He was not going to return to Iruka. He remembered how Iruka had frowned when he’d been summoned by the ANBU. What was Iruka going to look like if he was told that Kakashi hadn’t managed to make it back? Who was going to pay for his groceries or eat ramen with him or help him build his training dummies?

Kakashi was Iruka’s friend, wasn’t he?

Friends didn’t leave friends behind.

He opened his eyes.

He saw stars. Blurry ones that didn’t come into focus. He took stock of his body. Still gravely injured. He took stock of his chakra. Still nearly gone. He took stock of his mind. Hazy. It was difficult to think. Good thing he didn’t need to. He just needed to walk. Just a bit further, he wasn’t that far from the border. And then there could be people or a village or anyone else to keep him from dying.

He forced himself to get up, remembering the way Iruka greeted him whenever he returned from a mission and started staggering onwards fueled by nothing except for memories of his friend.

He didn’t know how far he made it. He didn’t know much, honestly. As his body grew heavier, his thoughts became messier and all he knew was to keep going until he either survived or died. And then a group appeared in his blurry vision. He was on guard immediately, trying to reach for a kunai and failing, only to finally be able to make out the green-blue uniform sets of Konoha shinobi. He sagged with relief. Only when he understood that he had been saved, did he stumble forward one last time and allow everything to go dark.

He awoke staring up into a canopy of familiar trees. There was a campfire healthily crackling away not too far from him and a couple of bodies on bedrolls scattered around it. Breathing bodies. People. As he took in his surroundings, he noticed one empty bedroll and one person being awake and presumably on watch as they tore a piece of a ration bar off with their teeth. Kakashi also identified the place he was at as Fire Country which immediately put him at ease. His entire body hurt and he still felt dead tired, but he was back on home turf and surrounded by comrades who had brought him here.

He looked back up at the canopy, hoping the sounds of the fire were enough to lull him back to sleep. His eyelids drooped and as he hazily began to dream about returning home something occurred to him.

The only reason he was here at all was Iruka.

His eyes shot open.

It was thoughts of Iruka that had given him that extra push. Without him, he probably would have died back in Earth Country.

What the hell?

Iruka and him were friends, yes, but when had Iruka become such an important and vital part of Kakashi’s life that he needed him to survive?

Kakashi had never had such thoughts about Gai or Tenzō. Sure, he assumed they were going to be a little sad if he was killed in action, but he’d never thought of Tenzō’s sad face and kept going just to make sure that it never happened.

And yet the thought of disappointing Iruka had been too unbearable to just sit in the shade of a rock and bleed out.

How messed up was that?

How could Kakashi have let this kind of attachment happen?

He had made it a point to not have to rely on others except in the context of mission parameters. He wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that he could do everything on his own. But he was skilled enough to know that he could handle himself most of the time. And he had enough endurance and perseverance to see his objectives through.

He shouldn’t have needed Iruka. He should have been able to keep going and push himself because it was his obligation to do so. He should have made sure to return because as a shinobi, he belonged to Konoha. He should have thought about his duty to report back, his responsibility to make sure the intelligence was brought home and that the person he’d saved had made it.

He should not have been thinking of Iruka.

And yet, somewhere in between dinners and conversations Iruka had taken a place in Kakashi’s life that was different from everyone else. Iruka mattered to him in a way others did not. And now Iruka was burdened with the responsibility of Kakashi’s existence without even knowing about it. He had become Kakashi’s tether to Konoha. To life itself, even.

It was unacceptable.

Worse, what if Kakashi had for some reason begun to matter to Iruka as well? Kakashi knew that he was a curse and a plague to those he cherished. Too likely to die on a mission to have anyone sincerely care about him. Too double-edged to protect anyone from the dangers he had to face. He had told himself over and over again to stop meeting up with Iruka. And he should have listened.

The way things were wasn’t sustainable. What if Iruka and him fought? What if Iruka decided he rightfully wanted nothing to do with him anymore? Was Kakashi’s will to return from a mission going to dissolve into nothing? Worse, what if he really did matter to Iruka in a similar way and he ended up dying in action? Or bringing ruin upon him for his care and friendship in some other way? What if, after all, Iruka just died like everyone else? Because that’s what knowing Kakashi did to people. It killed them.

Kakashi’s throat felt tight. He struggled to breathe. The shinobi on watch perked up and was at his side at once.

But Kakashi didn’t hear their assurances and soothing words. He was lost in his thoughts. He had to end it. He had to prevent all the terrible things that could happen. He couldn’t risk relying on Iruka anymore. And he couldn’t drag Iruka into the abyss that beckoned him so often. Iruka wasn’t aware of the danger he was in just by associating with Kakashi. How death sought its victims in Kakashi’s proximity.

The thought hurt like ripping out a part of himself.

But Kakashi had to let Iruka go.

-

Iruka only found out that Kakashi had returned from his mission after the fact.

He’d had a bad feeling while Kakashi had been gone and the rumor mill had already validated it. Kakashi’s mission, while ultimately successful, had been terrible. Iruka heard bits and pieces about a destroyed village, a kidnapped girl, a band of mercenaries headed by a terrifying S-rank criminal, and a severely injured Copy-nin being brought back home by a recovery team. How this at least partially classified information had found its way into the mouths of completely unrelated shinobi, Iruka didn’t know. And he didn’t care.

All he cared about was that Kakashi was back home.

And so Iruka quickly went to the hospital after his Mission Desk shift to pay his friend a visit. He didn’t know what condition to expect Kakashi in but he prepared himself for the worst. Only to find him completely absent. A disgruntled nurse told him that Kakashi had already released himself.

Iruka wasn’t sure why that surprised him. Kakashi was known for his hatred of hospitals and his attempts to leave them as soon as he was able to.

It was only on the way home that Iruka realized that the reason he had been surprised was that he had expected Kakashi to come find him as soon as he was back on his feet. That him being out of the hospital without trying to contact Iruka was what had really thrown him off. He shook his head at his own thoughts. What an unreasonable expectation to have. Kakashi was most likely still exhausted and needed time to recover, just not in a hospital bed. Maybe he wanted to have some quiet time to decompress. Iruka couldn’t begrudge him that.

He considered dropping by Kakashi’s apartment to check in on him. Kakashi had mentioned the jōnin barracks once and Iruka was confident he could find the correct apartment if he tried.

But Iruka had never actually been to Kakashi’s place and it felt like overstepping to go and find him there when he had no way of announcing himself or asking for permission. Even leaving a letter in Kakashi’s mailbox felt pressuring and obsessive as soon as Iruka thought of it. Kakashi was private and sometimes downright skittish. Going anywhere near his home without explicit invitation, especially while he was trying to recover, was out of the question.

Still. It would have been nice to hear from him.

Chapter Text

Present day

Iruka sighed as he looked at the vase on the table.

There were two tulips sticking out of it.

For two nights in a row, Kakashi had been absent. The tulips were beautiful. Two vibrant red flowerheads looking in opposite directions. Symmetrical, as if they were dancing together. But their beauty did nothing to quell the disappointment that rested heavily in Iruka’s gut.

The second tulip had appeared the day before while Iruka had been out training, going through his usual regimen. He’d been dismayed upon finding it but had tried to stay positive and taken the opportunity to go out with some friends that he hadn’t really seen in a while.

Naturally, they had thoroughly chided him about ‘never joining them for anything anymore’, especially because there was apparently ‘no reason’ and he had endured it with as much grace as possible. It’s not like his friends had been wrong about his frequent absences. But when the conversation had taken a turn toward speculation about his ‘date’, he’d made it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for it. From then on, the evening had been pleasant. Until, of course, Iruka had been back in his own four walls with those two damn tulips and the guilt of knowing that Kakashi had likely spent his evening buried in paperwork while Iruka had gone out without him.

The guilt had only grown when he had remembered what Shikamaru had said about ‘long days’.

Lamenting the flowers wasn’t going to change things, though. So Iruka shook off the guilt and the loneliness and grabbed a bag that was leaning against the table. He slung it over his shoulder and gave the tulips one last look before leaving his apartment.

The morning air was clear and fresh and a light spring sunshine poured into the streets of Konoha. Iruka took a deep breath and set out, following the walkway that wrapped around his apartment building and the stairs down to the street.

He recognized several people as he made his way to the Academy – he usually did. People he’d taught, their families, employees he’d seen or worked with at the Tower, shinobi he’d gotten to know through the Mission Desk, the civilians he bought produce from – lots of people greeted him with a nod, a smile, or a kind word. As the village grew, the percentage of people he had ties to became slimmer but teaching and doing Mission Desk shifts still meant spotting lots of familiar faces in crowds.

Iruka was just returning a wave from a former student, who seemed to be in the middle of an early morning D-rank that involved fixing a roof, when he heard a noise. Someone was shouting something somewhere close by. It almost sounded like they were holding a speech. Iruka didn’t even need his uncanny hearing ability to determine that much. Whatever subject this person was trying to impart on others, they were being very loud about it.

For a moment, Iruka just looked into the general direction of the noise, down the street of the intersection he was standing at. He had a few minutes to spare before he had to be in class. A mixture of morbid curiosity and obligation made him pursue the owner of that dominant voice.

It only took a short walk including two turns for Iruka to find the source of the shouting. In a row of buildings in a residential area was an opening that led to a small courtyard. Inside was a gathering of people. They appeared to be of different ages and genders, some civilians, some shinobi – going by the mix of clothing in attendance – and no notable common denominator between them. It wasn’t a huge crowd but enough to make traversing the courtyard seem uncomfortable. Iruka even spotted open windows in the surrounding buildings where residents were leaning on their windowsills and observing from home.

Everyone was looking toward the middle of the courtyard where the source of the shouting was. A man standing on some kind of podium to be at an elevated position. He had dark hair and square features – Iruka distantly recognized him, though he couldn’t remember his name or much about him. What stood out was his uniform. An old Konoha shinobi set. The old flak jacket gave it away immediately, but further inspection revealed the entire ensemble to be outdated.

Technically, this was a violation of shinobi dress code – not that people ever got written up for that sort of thing.

Iruka narrowed his eyes. But it did paint a certain picture.

“And who benefits from these policies?” the man shouted at the crowd, continuing whatever rant he had been on, “Certainly not the shinobi of this village!”

Iruka’s lips twisted in displeasure. Just as he had feared. It was one of those.

Iruka stood there as this shinobi went on, complaining about the latest policies that had been pushed forward in the village and raving about the alliance between Konoha and other Hidden Villages, spitting the word ‘friendship’ as if it was an insult. He then went on to ‘wonder’ why he was supposed to prioritize ‘making nice’ with people who had killed his comrades.

Tension reigned Iruka’s body. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he glared daggers at the man who took no note of him. He tried to temper his ferocity and his rage while all he truly wanted was to unleash it on this person who dared to question the fragile, precious peace the village was thriving in. Who dared to insinuate that the way things had been before had been better.

He had once. Yelled at one of these people. Normally, they stuck to spewing their bullshit at a table in a bar in the company of only their peers. But every once in a while someone got the nerve to try and make it a public issue. And one of those times, Iruka had tried to fight back. But all he’d gotten for his anger and his demands had been nothing. Nothing worthwhile anyhow. Only sneers and dismissals and belittling. Later that same day, Kakashi had advised him against trying to talk to them, claiming that it was pointless and promising that the situation was under control.

Iruka focused on that memory, clinging to it to quell his anger before he made the same mistake again. And instead of marching up there and giving that man a piece of his mind, he surveyed the area instead. He channeled chakra into the nerves in his ears and listened to his surroundings as they took clearer shape in his mind. It didn’t take long to spot a masked ANBU, crouched on a nearby roof and observing. Likely with orders to intervene if things got out of hand.

That mollified him. A little. Just enough to turn around and make himself walk back the way he came and going into the direction of the Academy instead.

He was holding onto the strap of his teaching bag with a tighter grip than was necessary and glared at nothing as he walked through the streets at a quicker pace, trying to walk off the urge to turn around and do something drastic. 

This quick march lasted all the way to the Academy where Iruka stopped in his tracks as students walked past him on the way to the building. All thoughts of speeches and intervention disappeared.

A new graffiti mural had appeared over the weekend. Iruka groaned. Around him, the students gave him a berth, evidently fearing that his legendary temper was going to make an appearance.

And who knew, maybe it was. The day hadn’t even properly started and Iruka already wanted to break something to relieve some of his frustration. He approached the building further to examine the damage. Apparently, the artist was none too creative as the mural once again depicted caricatures of the Academy’s staff. The only difference was that graffiti-Iruka was way more prominent than the others this time. The scar on his nose was even more exaggerated, his face was twisted into an ugly frown with big angry eyebrows and the new speech bubble above his head declared him to be ‘a loser’.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. Not one of the insults usually thrown his way by his students, but he supposed it was better than a whole host of other options.

Not that it mattered. If Iruka had anything to say about it – and he very much did – this mural was going to be gone within hours, washed away by the very hands that had created it.

-

Kakashi ran to the hospital.

He’d barely slept last night and was running on nothing but caffeine and concern. Sai’s team had returned to the village minutes before. And Sai had been admitted to the hospital. So Kakashi was on his way.

The reporting shinobi had given Kakashi a strange look when he’d leapt into action at the mention of Sai. Which made sense. Kakashi didn’t usually rush to see his subordinates at the hospital. But this was Sai. Sai had been part of his team. And so maybe, Kakashi just had more of a personal interest in seeing the consequences of the mission he had assigned. Especially when the mission parameters hadn’t included engaging any enemies.

Kakashi arrived at the front desk and the startled medic-nin directed him to Sai’s room immediately. That bode well, Kakashi figured. Sai wasn’t in surgery, at least, but in an ordinary hospital room. Kakashi found the room, knocked on the door and entered.

And there was Sai. Sitting upright in a hospital bed. Looking at Kakashi with slightly raised eyebrows. No medical machines, no IV bags and only minimal bandages. Kakashi deflated. Beside the bed were Sai’s mission partners – Kiba and Shino. Who both looked at him, Kiba displaying obvious surprise. No one seemed to be distressed, worried or even particularly bothered.

“Rokudaime,” Kiba said in acknowledgment. Shino bent into a respectful bow and Kiba followed suit a reluctant moment later.

“Hello, Kakashi-sensei,” Sai greeted from the bed with his usual smile. He didn’t seem to be struggling with pain or fighting for coherence against some of the stronger medication. He seemed fine.

“Hello,” Kakashi said, feeling suddenly extremely self-conscious for his urgency but pretending that nothing was miss, “I heard you were hospitalized.”

“I am,” Sai agreed, not picking up on Kakashi’s confusion.

“Are you hurt?”

“I was.”

“Superficial wounds,” Shino cut in. “We brought him here to make sure he was alright. Why? Because the enemy was fighting with poison-laced weapons. But the tests came back clean.”

“They said I can leave today,” Sai added.

Kakashi exhaled in relief. This wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the reporting gate guard had made it out to be. The way the story had been told to him had had Kakashi thinking that Sai was on the brink of death. “Good. It would have been a shame if they had to keep you overnight.”

“Why?” Sai asked, still smiling.

“No reason. Hospitals are annoying. Anyway,” he addressed the whole group, “report.”

And so they did. Sai, as team leader, did most of the talking. He explained how the group had gone about investigating the incidents on the paths leading through Fire Country. Where, in the past few weeks, travelers had been attacked by some kind of criminals. Sai described how they had picked up the trail of enemy ninja and performed a stakeout to observe their habits, realizing quickly that the only travelers they attacked were the ones trying to reach Konoha. Additionally, the group was large, a whole network of them was out there, surveying the roads. The confrontation that had injured Sai had been him protecting a group of traveling merchants from an attack.

“Were you able to discern a motive?” Kakashi asked eventually.

“Difficult to say,” Kiba pointed out, “they just seemed to be interested in people heading here.”

“Our working theory is that they might be stealing weapons. We observed that a lot of them carried stolen weaponry, some of Konoha-make, some foreign. Many armed people travel from and to Konoha. It seems they’re equipping themselves,” Sai added.

Kakashi hummed. That was a troublesome thought. Before the alliance, Hidden Villages and even entire governments had been known to send out mercenaries for that kind of work. Arms race and all that. Nowadays, if all alliance members remained in compliance with the treaty and none of the smaller nations started getting ideas, stolen weapons were mostly just dealt among criminals, though not in large quantities. Kakashi had had an illegal auction of that nature investigated and stopped just a few months ago. All of which begged the question: What were these criminals stealing those weapons for if not some employer? Were they planning to equip an army? Or was one of the alliance member states in violation of the treaty? But then, why do something so obvious?

“Could be,” Kakashi replied, not quite ready to confirm or deny their theory. “We’ll need more information to know for sure.”

At that, Sai lowered his head. “I apologize, Kakashi-sensei. I tried to take the enemy alive for interrogation. But the merchants’ guard killed him before I got the chance. After we engaged, his allies scattered and we lost the opportunity to gather more intelligence.”

“We do have the body,” Kiba pointed out and Shino punctuated that statement by holding up a storage scroll.

“It’s not your fault, Sai,” Kakashi assured. “This mission has been a success, we know  more than we did before and you did your duty assisting others who were under attack.” From the way they had told it, that guard had only gotten the kill because of Sai’s intervention. Otherwise, innocents may have died. Like that shinobi from the Land of Lightning. Who, Kakashi remembered, had been the only death reported so far.

“We’ve also gathered information on notable locations. Potential rendezvous points. We’ve marked them on this map,” Shino explained as he produced another scroll. He handed both scrolls to Kakashi.

Kakashi accepted them. “Thank you. Good work, all of you.”

“Thank you, Rokudaime-sama,” Shino replied.

“One more thing,” Kakashi said. “Could you two hop over to the gate guards and tell them to ask any travelers entering Konoha whether they’ve encountered anyone or seen anything suspicious on the way? I want anything unusual reported immediately.”

“Of course.”

“Oh. And while you’re at it, tell them not to imply to me that a returning shinobi is on the brink of death when that is clearly not the case,” he added.

Kiba visibly suppressed an amused smirk but Shino only nodded and accepted the instruction in the same manner as he seemed to conduct himself everywhere else in his life. He bowed again as Kakashi went to leave with Kiba being a moment behind on the formalities again.

“Enough of that,” Kakashi drawled. “Rest up, Sai. And you two, too.”

Once out the door, Kakashi released an exasperated sigh before leaving the hospital and starting his way back to the Hokage Tower. In spite of normally being confined to the streets, he took to the rooftops this time. He’d taken them in his hurry to get to the team so he could just as well take them back.

The intelligence the team had delivered was good, but not as good as Kakashi had hoped. Normally, Sai and Naruto would have been sent out in the next days to eliminate the threat based on the new information. But it seemed that this was going to require further investigation first. Kakashi needed to know what was going on and how extensive all of it was if he wanted to have any chance at taking it all down. So more intelligence gathering was on the menu.

Naruto wasn’t normally Kakashi’s first choice on missions that could result in long stakeouts. But then again, if he wanted to be Hokage someday, he was going to benefit from having a decent amount of experience with all kinds of missions. One couldn’t assign and delegate a job without knowing what that job was like and what kind of toll it took on a shinobi’s body and mind. And it was Kakashi’s obligation as current Hokage to offer Naruto opportunities to gain that kind of knowledge. And to ensure that, when the time came for Kakashi to finally hand over the hat, Naruto was going to have everything he needed to be a good successor.

Regardless of Naruto, Kakashi had to deal with this group sooner rather than later. It wasn’t entirely clear for how long they had been active, but the longer they worked unimpeded, the closer they were getting to whatever nebulous goal they had.

Kakashi entered the Hokage Tower through the first window he reached, apologized to the archivist he startled with his sudden entrance and made his way over to Shikamaru’s office from there. The door stood open so Kakashi simply leaned against the doorframe, prompting Shikamaru to look up from his work. Kakashi tossed him one of the scrolls, which Shikamaru caught.

“Enemy nin, deceased,” Kakashi said by way of explanation. “Deliver it for me for some analysis?”

Shikamaru sighed. “Alright, I’ve got it.”

“And something else. Could you figure out how many shinobi we could spare to station outside Konoha?”

“I assume this is about what Sai was investigating? Which rank do you need?”

“Chūnin. On field duty. I don’t want anyone to engage of their own accord but they need to be able to handle themselves against some unpredictable moves.”

“Unpredictable?” Shikamaru asked.

“Yes. Sai’s team encountered someone using poisoned weapons. This is different from what Shigeru-san’s group reported, so we can assume that there are different skills among enemy lines.”

“Got it.”

“Speaking of Shigeru-san, how are the negotiations going? I thought they were supposed to be done yesterday?”

“Things ran longer than expected. I’m due to meet them in an hour to finalize some details. I know you’ve been busy, but you can join us if you like.”

“Not necessary. There’s a lot on my desk. But I’ve seen the draft you left me. I like it. Makes me think I could send you to all of my meetings from now on,” Kakashi mused.

“Please be reasonable, Rokudaime,” Shikamaru said.

“Right, right. Can’t force you to do all the dirty work. Well, I’ll leave you to process that corpse in peace.”

“Actually wait,” Shikamaru called, standing up as Kakashi was about to turn around, “there’s something else.”

Kakashi paused in the door and looked at Shikamaru expectantly.

“Koharu-sama came looking for you while you were out. She wanted me to inform you that unless you tell them otherwise they’re going to look into ‘providing you with options’. She said you’d know what that means.”

Kakashi grimaced. It hadn’t even been two days. “Always meddling. Yes, I get it. Thank you for passing that along. Anything else?”

“No,” Shikamaru said. He held up the scroll. “I’ll deliver this now.”

“Right. Thank you.”

Back in his office, Kakashi rolled out the map that Shino had given him. He was surprised to find out just how deep into Fire Country some of the potential rendezvous points were located. No particular border or area seemed to be favored which lined up with the reports of the enemies having mixed national affiliations, although every Hidden Village symbol that had been spotted had also been crossed out. This kind of coverage indicated thorough planning, potentially starting even before the first incident had occurred.

Kakashi searched and found the earlier reports of these incidents on his desk and used them in combination with the map to begin formulating mission parameters and goals for Sai and Naruto. Eventually, he started writing the mission brief at which point his mind started to drift back to the message Shikamaru had given to him from Koharu. And that led him to thinking about Iruka.

He hadn’t seen Iruka the last two nights. It felt a bit ridiculous to be bothered by that when, in the past, they often hadn’t seen each other for weeks when Kakashi had gone on missions. But still, he found it a little upsetting.

The reasons why he’d stayed away were twofold: One, he simply had a lot to do and couldn’t risk falling behind on his work too much. This was a regularly occurring issue. But the other problem was new. He’d been unable to shake the worry that maybe the elders were questioning his unwillingness to get married and had him followed to find out more about his reluctance. So, he’d used the first night to test that theory.

He’d taken a detour on his way to the Hokage Residence to stop by the market and cover enough ground until he had been certain that there was no one following him except for his likely confused ANBU. But due to the sensitivity of the issue and the magnitude of the consequences of failure, Kakashi had deemed a second test to be in order as well. So, the previous night, he’d left a clone at home as he normally did and then taken time to explore his security measures to ensure that the Residence itself wasn’t being surveilled or monitored in any way he wasn’t aware of. It wasn’t.

He’d also delivered two flowers – one for each night apart – using transformed clones and a small short distance object-teleportation jutsu to do so.

Kakashi still hadn’t decided whether he could risk returning to Iruka that night. He wanted to. He wanted to know how Iruka was doing. He’d heard some gossip about Kumi and him and he wanted to go to Iruka’s apartment to comfort him. Or to let him yell and complain about it for a bit.

Plus, there was a little annoying voice in Kakashi’s head that pointed out that Iruka had had a good time with someone else just before and now Kakashi was completely absent which was fertile grounds for some reconsideration of their whole relationship.

He wanted to summon Iruka to his office to try and communicate with him there, but that could trigger suspicion as well if he failed to come up with a good enough reason for them to talk professionally. Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t meet in public without maybe rousing suspicion and they couldn’t meet in secret without maybe being followed. Maybe Kakashi was just going to have to cultivate a habit of calling on Academy instructors or Mission Desk workers for no reason only to shuffle Iruka into the mix every now and again.

Well, it was going to be fine. Every rumor died down eventually and the elders had been meaning to see Kakashi wed and having a kid for years. So nothing had really changed.

Perhaps one more test to ensure he wasn’t being followed was in order. And then he could return. Iruka’s vase was surely going to look nice with one more tulip in it. Things came in threes anyway, didn’t they?

Kakashi was just going to have to ensure that it wasn’t going to turn into a bouquet.

-

“Shikamaru, you made it!”

“Was there any doubt about that?” Shikamaru smirked as he made his way over to the table where most of his friends were already gathered. He took his seat beside Chōji and looked around. After greeting him, Ino and Sakura fell back into chatting animatedly about something. Tenten was studying the menu while Lee seemed to be asking Kiba and Shino questions about their latest mission. Sai sat quietly next to Ino with a smile as if soaking up the atmosphere.

The only people missing were-

“I hope we’re not late,” Hinata said as Naruto and her approached the table.

“Not yet,” Shikamaru replied, “but cutting it close.”

As expected, Naruto laughed and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “I lost track of time.”

They sat down in last two empty spots at the table, completing the group.

“Right, so, I’ve already started ordering for us,” Chōji announced, “so don’t worry about that unless you wanted something unusual.”

“Oh, does this mean you’re paying?” Ino asked with a teasing edge.

“What? Of course not!”

Sakura looked around the table. “How lucky that we managed to get together.”

“Hey, Shikamaru, did you say something to Kakashi-sama to make him give all of us free time?” Chōji asked.

“No. I’m not going to ask my boss for personal favors like that.” But as Chōji asked, Shikamaru recalled being in the Hokage’s office a few weeks ago. Kakashi had been going over the mission assignments and made a surprised noise before promptly starting to adjust things. He’d seemed strangely pleased with himself afterwards. So that’s what that had been about. “But I wouldn’t put it past him to do it on purpose,” Shikamaru amended.

“How kind of him,” Hinata said and the rest of the table agreed with nodding and humming.

Shikamaru knew that Kakashi was going to deny having done any intentional scheduling if he was asked, calling it a ‘lucky coincidence’ or something. But Shikamaru was inclined to agree with Hinata. It was kind to make sure that they had a chance to meet up in between missions.

Someone else spoke up and soon, different chats emerged within the group while everyone sipped on their drinks and waited for the food to arrive. Sakura told work stories from the hospital, Lee kept telling everyone about Gai’s recovery journey and some kind of intense training they had been doing together in spite of it and Ino pried honeymoon details out of an increasingly flustered-looking Hinata. The kind of stuff fit for public retelling, luckily. And, of course, there were always new mission stories to go around.

The food arrived and the conversations were supplemented with the occasional ‘did you want this’ and ‘can I have the last’ and such as everyone grilled meat and vegetables on the hot grill in the center of the table. The atmosphere was light and easy and comfortable. Shikamaru didn’t start a lot of conversation himself, but he participated where he wanted to. Good conversations and good food with friends were a precious thing. Even if he was never going to admit that out loud.

However, one person was slightly more subdued than Shikamaru would have expected him to be. Naruto seemed to actually be lost in thought half the time. He answered when someone asked him something, but he didn’t dominate the conversations the way he often tended to do.

It was just after they had ordered another round of meat cuts that the tension finally snapped and he spoke up.

“Say, Ino-chan, you know a lot of things about people, right?” he asked across the table.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow in Naruto’s direction but said nothing.

Ino appeared similarly surprised. “Huh? Me? I suppose so.”

Shikamaru thought so, at least. Ino was insightful and not just because of her clan jutsu. And she was exceptionally well-connected to the Konoha grapevine. Working in a flower shop meant attaching ‘get well soon’ cards to bouquets, advising people on the meanings of flowers and delivering white lilies to funerals. The Yamanaka flower shop was a hotbed for intel. Or rather, gossip.

“Right,” Naruto replied, “what kind of girls do you think Iruka-sensei likes?”

Shikamaru choked on a slice of beef. Silence fell over the table. Apparently, everyone had been paying attention with at least one ear.

Ino tilted her head. “Iruka-sensei?”

“Hey, Naruto, you better not be planning anything nasty,” Sakura chided.

“I’m not!”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata muttered – damn, not even marriage had killed that honorific – , “this isn’t still about that, is it?”

That? Crap. Had Naruto found something out? Shikamaru mustered him. No, that couldn’t be it. He seemed far too earnest and genuine. He was radiating curiosity. This wasn’t a hidden ploy to disclose a secret to the group or to test the waters, he wanted a sincere opinion. Well. Shikamaru schooled his features. This put him in an awkward position.

Everyone at the table was evidently stunned by the seemingly random question. Naruto brought up Iruka every once in a while, sure. The way one brought up family or a former teacher. But this was an entirely new direction. One that Shikamaru had a vested interest in not exploring any further. He couldn’t let on that he knew something, after all, and he couldn’t risk anyone drawing any conclusions. What a drag.

“What are you on about, Naruto?” Chōji finally asked.

“Well, it’s just- he’s incredibly picky y’know?”

“Iruka-sensei? Picky?” Chōji hummed.

“Yes! I’ve been trying to find him a girlfriend, but he just rejects them all!”

Shikamaru knew, of course, why Iruka had refused and was going to refuse every person that Naruto ever introduced him to. He still remembered Kakashi’s wide eyes and red face when Shikamaru had hinted at knowing the truth about their relationship.

He hadn’t asked anything and there had been no need to talk about it. He understood why a Hokage might have chosen to keep a relationship secret. Even with the shinobi world at peace, there were still dangerous individuals looking to exploit a weak spot. And there was that other thing. Shikamaru didn’t really have any opinions on the fact that Kakashi and Iruka were both men. It had been surprising to learn about them mostly because he hadn’t considered the option. But that was where his contemplation on the subject ended.

Yet, there had to be a reason why he hadn’t considered it before. And that was probably the same reason why it was being kept secret. Well. Mostly secret.

Shikamaru had figured it out and therefore the secret had been involuntarily entrusted to him. And that gave him a serious obligation to fulfill at this table.

He had to think of it as a mission. Protect the Hokage and his partner. Sounded easy. It was just an exercise in subterfuge. Shikamaru glanced around the table. Everyone seemed genuinely taken aback and somewhat intrigued. The notable exceptions were Sai, Ino and Sakura. Sai had a very neutral expression which was par for the course for him and likely meant nothing. Ino had that eager glint in her eyes that she got whenever fresh gossip was within her reach. But Sakura- Sakura was different. Her eyes flicked around the table, subtly looking at the others. A mild tension had taken over her posture. He had to keep an eye on her.

In the end, their group were trained shinobi, most of whom could feign surprise and hide their true feelings with ease. It was a crapshoot to know for certain who knew what at a glance. For now, Shikamaru was going to have to focus on containing the information that he had.

“I haven’t heard anything about him being picky,” Ino mused. “But I did hear that he rejected some beauty from Lightning Country a few days ago. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him dating anyone, either.”

“I could see him being picky,” Kiba announced. “He’s super neat and strict. He probably wants a woman who is super proper like him.” Akamaru barked in approval.

Or someone who read porn in public.

“No, no, no,” Tenten cut in, “he loves kids, right? I mean he teaches pre-genin by choice. He probably wants a motherly type who wants to have five kids, at least!”

Or someone with eight talking dogs.

“Maybe a teacher,” Shino offered. “Why? Because they could talk about their profession and their love of education with each other.”

Or a former jōnin-sensei with reportedly weird teaching methods.

“Maybe he wants a strong kunoichi that he can spar with!” Lee suggested, chopping at the air for emphasis.

Or an elite shinobi who was currently desk-bound.

“Hey, Shikamaru, what do you think?” Chōji asked and Shikamaru nearly startled at being invited into the conversation. “You’re being quiet.”

Crap. He couldn’t give away his position. “How would I know what Iruka-sensei likes? It’s none of my business. Nor any of yours, really.”

“It is, too, if we can help him find the right person, y’know!”

Shikamaru didn’t like lying to his friends – by omission or otherwise – but he couldn’t just come out and say what Kakashi and Iruka had been working so hard to protect. He wished, briefly, that he had never figured it out in the first place. But then this probably would have been the moment where he would have put the pieces together. His knowing had been unavoidable.

He sincerely wasn’t getting paid enough to be dealing with this during his time off. But it made him remember Shizune’s words from back when he had first expressed interest in the position: ‘It’s an honorable and important position. The entire village relies on the Hokage. And the Hokage relies on you. It’s rewarding, in a way. But, er, sometimes, it might be... a lot.’

This was a lot. But he had no interest in betraying his superior’s trust. “A man’s love life is his private business, Naruto. You should know, right?”

Hinata turned beet red.

“Well, yeah. I know that. I just want Iruka-sensei to be happy. And not lonely. And I haven’t been very good at finding someone for him so far. Plus, I promised him no more surprises. So I have to find someone really good he’ll be happy to meet!”

Shikamaru shrugged. “Iruka-sensei probably doesn’t need you to set him up with anybody. He’s an adult. He should be able to handle his own affairs.”

“Exactly,” Sakura agreed, nodding, “Iruka-sensei knows a lot of people. If he wants to find someone, he will.”

Shikamaru glanced at her. The back-up was appreciated but it confirmed his suspicions that she knew something or at least thought she knew something. Sakura, though not as naive as she had once been, was still a romantic at heart and seeing Iruka settle down with someone seemed like the type of thing she normally would have been in favor of.

“Still, isn’t it weird?” Ino asked, pressing the tips of her chopsticks against her bottom lip in thought. “He’s always in the village, good with kids, super kind, kinda cute. You’d think he’d have gotten married ages ago.”

“Right?!” Naruto slapped his hands on the table. “It’s weird! Iruka-sensei should have someone!”

This was bad. The tide of the conversation was turning.

“He should,” Ino agreed. Shikamaru had no right to feel betrayed by her for this but he did. “But we don’t actually know what he really likes. Only guesses. It might be something completely unexpected if he hasn’t found it yet.”

Naruto grumbled, clearly not satisfied with that assessment. He turned to Shikamaru again. “Come on, Shikamaru. You’re smart. Why don’t you-“ Naruto mimicked the way Shikamaru sometimes put his hands together when he contemplated a strategy “-and come up with something?”

“It’s not like I can just summon knowledge I don’t have, Naruto. I’d need to be well-informed about Iruka-sensei’s private life to make some kind of deduction or develop some kind of strategy. And that’s really not the type of thing I’m interested in.”

“Hrmpft.” Naruto crossed his arms in front of his chest. But then, he grinned. “What if I hired you to figure it out? An A-rank mission.”

Shikamaru scoffed. “Like you can afford to pay me for an A-rank. Besides, I’m Kakashi-sama’s assistant. Any mission I take comes directly from or has to be specifically approved by him. And I doubt he’d consider this to be a valuable use of my time.”

“Kakashi-sensei...,” Naruto thought out loud. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him in a relationship, either.”

Fuck. Crap. Crud. Misstep. Total misstep mentioning Kakashi!

“Maybe Kakashi-sensei is also in need of help,” Sai suggested. “He’s very busy with other things and doesn’t have time to find someone on his own.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Naruto grimaced as if Kakashi’s inability to secure a match was a given fact. “Ino, any ideas?”

“Kakashi-sama, huh?” Ino mused.

“Guys, Kakashi-sensei probably has more important things on his mind than romance,” Sakura pointed out. “Besides. He’s Kakashi-sensei. He’s going to see right through any attempts at setting him up. Remember when we tried to see his face? He knew about that all along.”

Naruto frowned. “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, who knows what Kakashi-sensei likes? He’d probably want a woman like in Pervy Sage’s books. And I don’t know where to find one of those, y’know?”

Shikamaru successfully suppressed something between a groan and a snort at the idea of Iruka being anything like an Icha Icha heroine. Not that Shikamaru had read any of the series himself, but anyone with a working braincell could intuit what the female characters in it were like.

“Kakashi-sensei is a problem for later. For now, I have to find someone for Iruka-sensei,” Naruto resolved. “Everyone is grown up and moving on and I don’t want him to have to be alone so much. He deserves better.”

“Naruto, have you actually tried actually asking him whether he wants your help?” Sakura asked.

“Well, no. Not really. But he’s just embarrassed about it. He really wasn’t happy with the last few surprise dates I got him. But if I can just find the right person, he’ll be happy, right?”

Sakura sighed. Shikamaru empathized. This strange quest that Naruto had put himself on must have made perfect sense from his point of view. He wasn’t backing down, not even with apparent confirmation that it wasn’t what Iruka wanted. Arguing that Iruka didn’t want him to meddle didn’t matter when, in Naruto’s eyes, the end result was Iruka’s happiness. The only way to truly convince Naruto was to change his mind about his end goal being a good thing. And he was never going to believe that Iruka was better off alone.

The other option, of course, was to tell Naruto the truth. Which Shikamaru wasn’t going to do but was starting to seem like a better and better option given Naruto’s insistence. Shikamaru didn’t want to advise Kakashi on his personal life. Or talk to him about it at all. But perhaps the time had come for him to do so.

“I think that you’re onto something,” Ino said, nodding sagely. “Love makes the world go round, after all.”

“So you’ll help me figure out what Iruka-sensei likes?”

“Yup! Well, I’ll be busy starting tomorrow, but after that, I will do my best!”

Naruto grinned. “Thanks, Ino-chan! You know, maybe I should hire you instead,” he said while he shot Shikamaru a smug look.

Shikamaru just sighed. “I really don’t think you should be meddling,” he tried as a last ditch effort.

“I’m not meddling in anything! I’m only giving Iruka-sensei the option to meet someone! It’s all going to work out great, you’ll see!”

Shikamaru sincerely doubted it.

It was then that the waitress brought another round of meat which effectively ended the conversation as people asked who wanted what and where to put which plate and ‘Chōji, don’t hog an entire plate for yourself’. Every once in a while Shikamaru observed Naruto only to find him engrossed in something else and slowly he managed to relax back into the evening with his friends.

When everyone said their goodbyes in the late evening hours with full bellies and light wallets, Shikamaru knew that there was something he still had to do. The mission mindset came back to him as he stepped out of Yakiniku Q.

“Shikamaru, do you wanna come ‘round to my house? My dad’s been pestering me that he hasn’t seen you in a while.”

“Ah, sorry, not today, Chōji. But you can tell Chōza that I’ll stop by soon.”

Chōji sighed but accepted his answer and they parted ways. Shikamaru turned to find his quarry already walking down the street. He followed, subtly increasing his speed to catch up.

“Shikamaru-kun?” Sakura turned to look at him as he fell into step beside her. “This isn’t the way to your house.”

Shikamaru knew he had to tread carefully around Sakura. She was sharp. “Right. I promised my mother I’d pick up her favorite snack on the way home and the convenience store in my direction doesn’t have it. Mind if I walk with you?”

“No, of course not.” She smiled. “We don’t talk much outside of our jobs, do we? And even professionally, it’s very rare.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” How could he turn this conversation back to Iruka without it being obvious that he was fishing for information? “I guess it’s to be expected. Missions are keeping everyone busy.”

“I’ll say! I hadn’t seen Ino in forever!”

“Are you still going on missions? Naruto seems to be gone a lot.”

“Sometimes. I’m mostly at the hospital. I actually haven’t been on a mission with Naruto in a while.”

“I see. Well, he’s certainly up to his old tricks.”

“What do you mean?” She gave him a sharp look.

He ignored it. “Just the whole Iruka-sensei thing. You’d think he’d know better than to meddle in something like that. Now that he’s married.”

“Ah, that.” That same tension from earlier returned to Sakura’s shoulders and she wasn’t looking at Shikamaru anymore as she walked. “I think being married makes him think he’s got the right to mess with everyone else. Like he’s suddenly all wise about relationships. Honestly!”

“I don’t think Iruka-sensei appreciates it, either.” Shikamaru glanced at Sakura. “At least you dissuaded him from trying to matchmake Kakashi-sama.”

“Oh. You think I succeeded? Well, it’s ridiculous. Who ever heard of someone trying to trick the Hokage into going on dates?”

Shikamaru had the verbal pieces where he wanted them. Now he just had to push Sakura a bit. She was smart, but she had a short fuse. Pushing her buttons was likely the best option to get behind her conscious defenses. And he was pretty certain that she still had a big soft spot for her old jōnin-sensei. “Well, to be fair, most of the previous Hokage managed to find someone on their own.”

“I’m sure Kakashi-sensei could manage if he wanted to.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “You don’t have to work for him every day. He’s absolutely hopeless. I can’t imagine anyone ever putting up with that willingly. Besides, there’s probably a good reason people call him cold-blooded. Don’t women want guys who are nice to them or something?”

Sakura’s face reddened with anger. She stood in place, hands balling into fists. Shikamaru stopped to look at her. “What’s your problem?” she demanded.

“Hm?”

“Where do you get off saying things like that about Kakashi-sensei?” She clenched her fists more tightly. “He’s your Hokage. He would die for you. He would die for each and every one of us. He’d make someone very happy.”

“You’re just saying that because you used to be his student,” Shikamaru said dismissively. “Without bias, it’s pretty easy to see that a guy like that is never going to find someone. I would seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who tried.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said as if it was a threat.

Provocation successful. Shikamaru now had to temper that anger before she put her fist through the nearest wall. “Oh and you do? I have to see the man multiple hours every single day. I’d think that makes me a pretty good judge of his character. What do you know about his ability to date?”

Sakura’s eyes widened. She floundered for a second. But then she just glared. “I just know him better than you do.”

“Correction: Knew. You knew him better when you were still his student. How many years has it been since you’ve spent that much time with him? How would you know anything about his current situation that I don’t already know, too?”

Sakura opened her mouth to respond with something that probably would have been rather scathing, but then her facial expression promptly changed as something seemed to register in her head. The glare softened. The tension eased. “I suppose I wouldn’t.” She gave him a calculating look. “I suppose anything I know about Kakashi-sensei, you’d know better.”

“Exactly.”

“I guess I just wanted to be right about him. I was fixated on the sensei-thing,” she added meaningfully.

Shikamaru smirked briefly. But then he just continued heading down the road, adding nonchalantly, “glad we’re on the same page.”

Sakura caught up to him, still giving him measuring glances. “I guess we are. Seems like others think differently though.”

“Well, it’s none of our business. Whether Kakashi-sama is capable of that sort of thing.”

“Maybe not. But I do wonder if it’s something to worry about. Must be lonely, a life like that.”

Shikamaru frowned, unsure whether she was still referring to the lie or the truth. He hadn’t thought about it that much. He would have been grateful for more privacy. He was relieved whenever he could visit Suna without someone breathing down his neck about it as soon as he came back. “Well, he could probably do something about it if he wanted to.”

Sakura frowned. “I wonder if that’s true. I don’t approve of meddling, but I do hope Kakashi-sensei knows that we would be there for him, if he wanted some help.”

Shikamaru shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure he knows,” he said, but he wasn’t sure about that, at all.

They reached the next convenience store and stood in the bright neon lights. “Guess you better get that snack for your mother,” Sakura pointed out.

“Right,” Shikamaru agreed. “See you around, I guess.”

“Yes, goodnight, Shikamaru-kun.”

Shikamaru nodded and Sakura went on her way.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka didn’t hear from Kakashi for days.

He kept an eye out for a mop of silver hair whenever he was outside. He even looked up into the trees that he passed, hoping to find the porn-reading jōnin lounging on a branch – which also led him to fully realize that he’d become close friends with a jōnin who read porn in public. But his search was in vain and eventually, Iruka concluded that Kakashi must have left on another mission without telling him.

Which was fine.

Shinobi could be sent out at a moment’s notice, as Kakashi and Iruka had experienced first-hand on their way to the tea house. And though it could be argued that Kakashi would have had plenty of time to meet up while recovering, the unfortunate reality was that people were sometimes assigned missions before being back to full health. Iruka would have blamed it on Tsunade if he hadn’t seen himself how unhappy she was about doing it.

Would it have been nice for Kakashi to stop by the Academy or the Mission Desk to let Iruka know that he was headed out again before he had a chance to redeem that raincheck? Of course. But it wasn’t Kakashi’s obligation. And who knew whether he’d even had the opportunity to do something like that.

It was what it was. All Iruka could do was look wistfully out of windows and think about him and hope for his safe and swift return.

Then days turned into weeks.

And wistful looks turned into a pinched brow and a deep frown. Because while missions could certainly last weeks, Iruka couldn’t imagine Tsunade sending anyone out on an assignment that took that much time after they’d just barely made it back from the last one. Sending out not fully recovered shinobi was one thing. Sending them straight into their death was another.

So Iruka looked over some documents in the office next to the Mission Assignment Room, thankful for his high clearance as he examined the lists of shinobi that had recently gone MIA. Or worse, that had been killed. Kakashi was thankfully not featured anywhere. Then perhaps, a mission was simply running unnaturally long. Or was he gone just that frequently now? Without even a moment to check in?

Or had he simply tired of Iruka? Like Mizuki had, in a way.

Iruka shook his head and closed the folders to put them back where they belonged. He was not going to be entertaining such thoughts. They were unproductive and useless.

Even if they could have explained what was going on.

But no. This wasn’t intentional – it couldn’t be. Kakashi was going to return and then he was going to seek out Iruka for sure. And then they could finally get that tea they had been meaning to. Or catch up over dinner.

But then a month passed.

And by all accounts, Kakashi should have come by at this point. Iruka walked past the Hokage’s office several times, contemplating just knocking and asking Tsunade whether there was any reason for this prolonged absence. But that was going to look strange and he knew it. Not to mention how Kakashi likely would have recoiled at learning about such clingy and needy behavior.

And yet. There was no way that Kakashi had been out on assignment all this time. Not with how hurt he’d returned from the last mission. Iruka’s schedule was predictable. Kakashi was excellent at finding people. They should have met. So why hadn’t they?

So far, Kakashi had been the one to seek Iruka out since Iruka was the one with an actual routine. But for some reason, Kakashi had just stopped. Leaving Iruka to flounder and wonder and worry. What if he had died after all and it was simply not in any records yet and was, for some strategic reason, being kept quiet? No one would have come to tell Iruka about it. He was going to have to wait to find out with the rest of the village as another name was added to the memorial stone.

But there was another option to consider.

Because what if, in the end, Kakashi didn’t come to see him anymore, because he simply didn’t want to? Had it all been a game to him? Something to waste some time with out of boredom?

Iruka had refrained from asking anyone about Kakashi’s absence because he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to it. Asking things about the Copy-nin invited questions Iruka didn’t want to answer. But after the he’d spent the third night in a row staring at the ceiling, wondering and wrestling with the fear of betrayal, he decided to do something.

That’s how, during his following Mission Desk shift in the evening, Iruka casually mentioned to one of his colleagues that he hadn’t been tormented by Kakashi’s mission reports in a while. His colleague responded with a raised eyebrow and the information that she’d received a report from Kakashi on her shift earlier that day.

Right when Iruka had been in school, teaching pre-genin how to bandage a wound. Right when he had, predictably, not been at the Mission Desk.

Iruka’s heart sank heavily into his gut and he tried to gloss over his shock with nonchalance, then by changing the subject and eventually by dropping the conversation altogether. He stared down at his desk, trying not to fixate on the fact that Kakashi had been here when he hadn’t been. When Kakashi had known that he wasn’t going to be here. On purpose? No. Kakashi wouldn’t have done that on purpose. He must have been pressed for time. Taken the only opportunity.

Unless he hadn’t. Unless he could have come by any time of the day. Unless he had all the resources he could have wanted to see Iruka.

When Iruka’s shift ended, he got up and gathered his things immediately, asking for his colleague to finish up while he was already on his way to the door. He hurried down the hallways to get out of the tower and away from other people as quickly as possible. He barely took in his surroundings. He’d been meaning to get ramen that evening but he had lost all appetite, so he just started walking home instead.

It seemed so obvious then. Iruka had been lying to himself for weeks. There was ‘benefit of the doubt’ and then there was stupidity and Iruka had simply been stupid. Of course, Kakashi had had time in the last month. Of course, he wasn’t missing or dead or being worked to death. He just didn’t want to spend any of his time with Iruka. Not anymore.

Tears stung in his eyes, feeling hot against the cold air of an early October night.

Iruka’s heart was pounding painfully in his chest as he suppressed a sob. The last time they had spoken, everything had been fine. More than fine. Kakashi had gone out of his way to tell Iruka he was leaving. He had seemed happy about the idea of getting tea together and annoyed by the fact that they had had to postpone.

So what had changed?

What had Iruka done to deserve the silent treatment?

Iruka didn’t understand how he could have done anything at all when they hadn’t spoken in all that time. He hadn’t talked about Kakashi to anyone. He hadn’t done anything related to Kakashi except for mentioning him that very day. What on Earth could have prompted Kakashi to change his mind about him?

Iruka arrived at his apartment. A sob broke free as he fumbled with his keys before he got the door open.

He stepped inside as he imagined Kakashi laughing at him behind his back. Calling him stupid and naive for thinking that they were friends.

But no, Kakashi wasn’t like that.

Or was he? How could Iruka even know what he was like when he did something like this?

Tears rolled down Iruka’s cheeks and he wiped at them furiously before shutting the door behind himself. His chest ached. He leaned against the door and let the back of his head thunk against the wood as he looked up at the ceiling.

He had promised himself that he wasn’t going to cry over people who treated him like this. He had wasted tears on Mizuki and he wasn’t going to be wasting them on anyone else who didn’t deserve it.

But Kakashi didn’t treat people this way. He wasn’t a fountain of social skills, but he didn’t hurt people on purpose. And what kind of enjoyment was there to be gained from spending so much time on one person just to suddenly ignore them? No gloating, no pranks, just silence.

Iruka swallowed and wiped at his eyes again before pushing away from the door. His chest still hurt and everything felt like too much. Like a tidal wave crushing into him and pulling him under.

He wished he could just understand. He couldn’t call Kakashi a piece of shit and be mad at him because what if this was some kind of misunderstanding? He couldn’t worry about Kakashi and hope to see him because what if Kakashi was just being an asshole? Had this been planned or had something prompted it? Iruka needed to know. He needed find out why he was being ditched and ignored.

He stopped in his living room and his gaze came to rest on the cookbooks on his shelf. He glowered at them. He deserved an explanation. And he was going to get one. Whatever his deal was, Kakashi had no right to do all the things he’d done and then just disappear. So Iruka wasn’t going to let him. He’d turned in a report that day? Then there was a chance he was still in the village.

Iruka clenched his fists. The hunt was on.

Iruka started the next day by visiting the jōnin barracks he’d been so careful to avoid before. A neighbor of Kakashi’s told Iruka the correct apartment number. But no matter how loudly he banged on the door, no one opened. Iruka wanted to break in but he knew better than that. Shinobi apartments tended to be warded to hell and back and though Iruka had something of a knack with wards and seals, he refrained. For now.

So he tried to rely on his ability to listen. Or rather, his ability to hear. Iruka could hear things others could not. Next to no one knew about it and it wasn’t something he was keen on advertising. But when Iruka channeled chakra into the nerves of his ears, he could hear other chakra around him and the way it reverberated and bounced off things, providing him with a mental image of his surroundings from sound alone. This ability also graced him with much keener hearing than the average person had. When he focused, he could expand this sense, listening to things that should have been too far away for him to hear.

Using this special skill, he took a long stroll around town, straining his ears to listen to as much as he could, trying to hear a familiar drawl or a name being spoken. But it was difficult to focus on any individual sound and he was ultimately overwhelmed by noise. Annoyed, Iruka resolved to try and practice this skill more at some point. Eventually. When he got around to it.

Days passed like this, with Iruka using whatever free time he had in the pursuit of one Sharingan Kakashi. But it was like Kakashi had ceased to exist.

And then Iruka wondered whether his time window had closed and Kakashi was out of the village once more. Searching like this seemed to be pointless. Iruka was going to have to find another way. After this realization, all the anger and frustration needed some venting and so, a few days after he’d begun his hunt, he visited his favorite training ground for some stress relief.

Only to find it occupied.

Iruka’s shoulders slumped as he felt the presence of someone else before he saw them. He drew closer. Maybe it was a potential sparring partner. A good sparring partner could make any training better.

As he approached he saw that it was Maito Gai. Definitely not a sparring partner, then.

Gai was apparently focused on training his legs. He worked his way through a lineup of tree trunks, turning every single one into splinters, each with a single, terrifying kick. Iruka didn’t feel like interrupting this display of intimidating physical strength and turned on his heel to find an empty training ground instead. Only to stop in his tracks.

If anyone knew how to get a hold of Kakashi, it was Gai.

Iruka peered back over his shoulder as another innocent tree trunk was pulverized. He wasn’t sure whether Gai was willing to submit his friend to the verbal ass-kicking that Iruka intended to bestow upon him. But he was in need of a solution. And there was a jumpsuit-wearing one right there.

So Iruka turned back around and approached carefully. He waited for Gai to finish his current set before calling out.

“Good evening, Gai-sensei.”

Gai turned around at once. He didn’t even look out of breath. “Ah, Iruka-sensei! Do you also wish to partake in a Glorious Training Session on this fine evening?”

Iruka eyed former tree trunks. “Maybe later.” He turned his attention back to Gai. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Gai cocked his head. “Is that so? Well, ask away! I am at your disposal.”

Iruka hesitated. He remembered their last conversation and tried to use it as reassurance that Gai was only going to be normal levels of weird about this. “It’s about Kakashi-san.”

“Kakashi, eh?”

“Yes. He’s been avoiding me but I really need to talk to him.”

“My Esteemed Rival has been avoiding you?” Gai asked. He grumbled in consideration. “Are you certain?”

“100%. No coincidence in the world could explain this,” Iruka insisted.

Gai nodded. “I see. Well, you mustn’t fret, Iruka-sensei! My Rival can be quite skittish. There have been times when he has Cooly ignored even my invitations to Youthful Challenges! It is just part of his Hip self. Nothing to take personally.”

Iruka grimaced. “I think it’s pretty personal. Seeing as he’s avoiding me, specifically. Without an explanation.”

“That may be, but I swear to you, sensei, that you are not the only target of his aloofness!”

Iruka groaned. “Even so. I just want to talk to him.”

“Ah, yes. But that may be difficult! My Rival has become Highly Skilled at not being found when he wishes to hide,” Gai explained.

“Great,” Iruka replied sarcastically. “So there’s nothing I can do. He just gets to ignore me and that’s that.”

Gai hummed. “I can assure you that he means no offense.”

Iruka frowned. “No, you can’t. You can’t assure me of that unless he’s explicitly told you why he’s been avoiding me.”

“Alas, he has not. But I know him well. Sometimes, he may disappear for a bit. But he will come around again like he always does,” Gai announced with a grin.

But that didn’t sound like a victory to Iruka. “So it’s all on his terms.”

“Hmmmmm. What do you mean?”

“He gets to leave and ignore you and you just wait for him to show back up when he feels like it. Without so much as an explanation,” Iruka pointed out.

“My Rival is a man who needs his space sometimes,” Gai said.

“Yeah, well, if he wants his space from me, he could have damn well told me,” Iruka spat, willing his eyes not to water. “Friends don’t treat each other like that.”

Gai put a hand to his chin. “Maybe his ways are Unusual, but they are his ways.”

“And should you be enabling them? Doesn’t he owe you more than that?” Iruka asked.

Gai regarded him, his eyes becoming more serious. “He does not. It is my Determination to reach out to my Rival that has cemented our Rivalry in the unshakable Foundations of Eternity. He is Cool and Aloof, and yes, distant sometimes. But I have chosen him as my Esteemed Rival, the Man of my Destiny, and I shall not let his worse tendencies get in the way of it. That is my Choice and my Privilege.” Gai smiled. “Yet, it may not be the friendship that everyone desires. Kakashi is Kakashi. How you treat him is your Privileged Choice to make, Iruka-sensei! All I can tell you with Absolute Certainty is that whyever he may have fallen silent, it is not malice. My Rival is many things. But he is not malicious.”

Iruka looked at Gai’s confident smile. Was Gai just stupidly hopeful about Kakashi? To the point where he excused his bad behavior? But his words only reinforced what Iruka had previously felt himself: That Kakashi wasn’t bad or mean-spirited. That something was going on and maybe it wasn’t right. But it wasn’t cruelty.

But even if it wasn’t, if this was what a friendship with Kakashi really was, had everything before now been a prolonged fluke? If so, Iruka didn’t know what to do about that. He normally tried not to waste time making an effort for people that weren’t willing to make an effort for him in return. Everything that had happened with Mizuki had taught him better.

And yet, all of those memories with Kakashi – they were still precious. Dear. Meaningful. Worth this kind of frustration, maybe. It depended on why Kakashi had chosen to ignore him in the first place.

Which just left him right where he had started. Wanting to find out more.

“I guess it’s all moot if I can’t get him to talk to me.”

Gai nodded thoughtfully. “Trying to engage him in conversation before he is ready is nearly impossible.”

“I noticed.”

“But!” Gai exclaimed, “there is a way. He may be a Master of Avoidance. But even he is bound to certain locations at times. Like his Inevitable next visit to the Konoha Hospital.”

Iruka blinked. “Are you- Are you suggesting I just wait for him to get injured badly enough to land himself in the hospital?”

“It is a Cruel Certainty that he will, Iruka-sensei. Kakashi’s Passion burns too brightly during his missions. It is not uncommon that he prioritizes the mission over his own well-being.”

Iruka frowned. “Yeah, I’ve heard something like that before.”

“But perhaps it is our bonds that may inspire him to do better! In fact, I have bonded with Kakashi so much that I have developed a Sixth Sense for him!”

“Ah...?” Iruka replied doubtfully.

“I can sense when he is about to make a Foolish Sacrifice yet again!”

“Sure,” Iruka said in disbelief. “Well, thanks for your insight, I suppose.”

“You’re welcome!”

Iruka wasn’t going to hope for Kakashi to get injured, of course. But he did agree with Gai that Kakashi’s next hospital stay felt like an inevitability. And once he was there, Iruka might as well use the opportunity to visit.

Two more weeks passed without Kakashi showing his face. He didn’t come to see Iruka and Iruka heard nothing about him being admitted to the hospital.

Iruka was still frustrated and hurt and honestly glad when he was sent out on a weekend mission of his own. It was a simple C-rank with the objective to restock a safehouse close to the border of Fire Country. One day to get there, one day to get back. An easy job. No teammates, no special equipment. Just Iruka, a backpack, and a bunch of storage scrolls.

It probably would have been a pleasant trip through the forest, if not for the downright apocalyptic weather that was descending upon Fire Country that day. The wind was harsh and punishing, making the accompanying rain feel like gravel being hurtled at Iruka’s face. For some missions, this could have easily been enough of a reason for them to be postponed. But for Iruka’s, simple as it was, it was only another reason that he had to complete it on time. Any shinobi caught out in this weather could be in dire need of a properly stocked safe place to rest. The conditions were far too harsh to expect someone injured or otherwise encumbered to travel all the way home.

So Iruka moved swiftly, his cloak whipping around him in the wind. He had to squint against the rain as he leapt from tree to tree. The branches were slippery and visibility was significantly reduced, but Iruka made good time in spite of it. He only took one brief break in the early afternoon, in the protective cover of a shallow cave. By the time the sky began to darken with nightfall, he knew for sure that he was going to make it to the safehouse by the end of day. Just as planned.

The weather didn’t let up for a single second during his trip. So it was a miracle, really, that in spite of how muted all of his senses were by the sensations of the storm, he still noticed something. A person, lying unmoving in the mud a little ways before the location of the safehouse. Iruka came to an abrupt stop on the next branch. He had almost missed them, had just barely spotted them from the corner of his eye. He crouched down on the branch as he tried to make out some details. A Konoha shinobi, going by the uniform. They were lying face down, visibly filthy to the point where all distinguishing characteristics were difficult to make out.

Iruka’s intuition, fueled by his kindness, told him to help at once. But his past mistakes told him otherwise. There was every possibility that this was a trap. So Iruka closed his eyes and focused on listening to his surroundings. He strained to hear anything useful over the sound of rain.

No one else was nearby. This wasn’t an ambush. And the body down in the mud was in fact a real person. A breathing one, thankfully. Although each breath was faint. But Iruka failed to make out any details about their appearance, still, as the noise of the rain hid too much of what was around him.

Iruka leapt down from the branch and took a few steps closer. There was still the possibility of a henge, but if it wasn’t and this person was an ally in need, Iruka had to act fast. “Where the leaves fall-,” he called out the first part of the pass phrase, not really expecting a response from what was either an enemy or an unconscious comrade.

No reply came.

So Iruka approached carefully. He pulled out a kunai just in case as he stepped through the downpour and kept a close eye on the person, watching for any sudden movements. As he stood beside them, he found the build of their body to be somewhat familiar. But they were too covered in mud and filth to make out anything else. What Iruka did see now that he was closer, was that the uniform was stained red and that that same red had been pouring into the puddle below, tinging it in a different, darker color.

Iruka crouched down and put a hand on the person’s shoulder, half-expecting them to turn around and try to slice his throat.

They didn’t. There was no resistance or movement as Iruka flipped them over. Dead weight. They toppled over onto their back, a slack arm sprawling out beside them. And finally, Iruka could see their face. A mask. A slanted forehead protector and still mostly concealed, the pallid and fine features of Hatake Kakashi.

Iruka gasped. He nearly dropped his kunai. He began to shake.

“Kakashi-san?” Iruka asked, speaking around the huge lump in his throat. He dropped to his knees in the wet and cold dirt and shook Kakashi by the shoulder. “Kakashi-san? Can you hear me?” He abandoned the kunai and grabbed onto the other shoulder as well to shake Kakashi more thoroughly. “Wake up, please, Kakashi-san!” But Iruka could move and jostle Kakashi’s body all he wanted. No movement, no words, nothing came in response.

“Fuck,” Iruka cursed. “Fuck!” he yelled. He tried to clear his mind and ignored his thundering pulse as he took in the sight of Kakashi’s wounds. His drenched flak jacket was stained in dark reds. His clothes were partially torn. He was bleeding out. He needed medical attention, had probably needed it hours ago.

Getting him back to Konoha was out of the question. He needed assistance now. Iruka only prayed that he didn’t need surgery.

First, Iruka needed to lift him. He arranged him on his back, arms at his side, knees propped up, before taking both of his wrists. Another thought popped up, begging that Kakashi’s spine wasn’t too injured for this. And then Iruka yanked, lifting Kakashi off the ground and onto his feet. Iruka used the momentum to get underneath him, slinging Kakashi sideways over his shoulders. He leaned forward to distribute the new weight – less than he would have expected – and tightly held onto one of Kakashi’s arms and one of his legs.

Again, Kakashi let himself be arranged and carried. No complaint. No reluctance. Nothing.

It was terrifying, this nothing.

Iruka didn’t want to be able to maneuver Kakashi this easily. Kakashi was supposed to be untouchable. “I’ve got you, Kakashi-san,” he muttered anyway as he began to run. Maybe the words were going to reach Kakashi somewhere in his unconsciousness. “You just leave it to me. I’ll take care of you now.”

The site of the safehouse came into view moments later and Iruka sped up further to make it there in time. “You should have gone there in the first place, you know,” Iruka admonished between labored breaths.

What Iruka saw was a particularly dense copse of trees. A barrier coupled with an illusion. Iruka circled it quickly and found the correct tree – the way the bark was cracked gave it away – and stepped right through it. Beyond was a small clearing with a building in its middle. It was crafted from wooden logs and was no larger than a shack. Iruka made his way over, shifted Kakashi’s weight around to have a free hand to release all the seals and entered.

Once they were inside, Iruka laid Kakashi down on the wooden floor.

He took off his backpack and threw it onto the ground before kneeling beside it and pulling out storage scrolls. He rolled out a specific one and from it, he produced a fully stocked medkit.

He turned back to Kakashi who remained terrifyingly still. Iruka muttered an apology under his breath, knowing how Kakashi valued his privacy, and unzipped his flak jacket. He lifted Kakashi’s torso to remove the vest entirely to prevent it from getting in the way before gently lowering Kakashi back down. Iruka had to get the shirt off. He eyed Kakashi’s attached mask.

He grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted it up as far as it went to keep Kakashi’s face concealed. With each inch of pale skin, Iruka revealed numerous scars, bleeding flesh wounds and large purpling bruises.

Iruka winced as he took in the sight. These injuries were severe. Kakashi was bleeding so much. He was dying. Iruka noticed how unnaturally cold Kakahi’s skin felt against Iruka’s fingers. The most glaring wound was a sizeable bleeding cut in Kakashi’s gut. One that Iruka could only hope wasn’t as deep as it looked. Iruka’s medical ninjutsu was for healing small cuts and scrapes, not to stitch organs back together. There was no time to fret over it. He had to get to work.

“What were you even doing?” he muttered as he opened the medkit. “Bleeding out in the rain like that...”

Iruka pulled out the supplies to clean and stitch a wound.

“You’re really something,” he complained. “Avoiding me for weeks and then getting yourself killed on a mission? Without ever letting me know why you avoided me in the first place? Wanted to take that to the grave so badly you had to go and get hurt, did you?”

Kakashi didn’t react. Neither to Iruka’s complaints, nor to the wound being cleaned or the needle sinking into his hurt flesh over and over again. It could have taken minutes or hours by Iruka’s estimation, but eventually, he tied off the string and cut it before leaning back with bloodied fingers. He released a deep breath that had been trapped beside his heart. The biggest visible wound was treated. Hopefully.

So Iruka continued with the smaller ones. Kakashi had sustained a myriad of them and as Iruka worked he began to wonder just what he had encountered out there. Not that it mattered much right that moment. Iruka used the medkit and his limited medical ninjutsu to heal what he could, prioritizing the torso before moving on to Kakashi’s limbs. He tried to remove as little clothing as possible as he worked.

When he finished cleaning the last cut he had found, he sat back on his heels with a heavy sigh, letting his head drop backwards. He looked up. He wasn’t particularly religious – the people of Konoha didn’t really worship deities – but he prayed to whatever entity might have heard him that he’d healed everything there was to heal. If Kakashi was bleeding internally or if there was something punctured or ruptured or whatever other horrible condition it could be in, Iruka was powerless to help.

He’d done all he could.

So he grabbed a cloth to wipe Kakashi’s blood off his hands. Then he looked around for moment, feeling a little lost. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, but there was nowhere for it to go. With Kakashi taken care of – hopefully – Iruka could finally really take in the space. It was a small house, almost a cabin, made entirely from wood. Windows sat in two sides of it. There was rain drumming against the window panes and prattling against the roof. There were several shelves as well as a small hearth. The hearth. That was a good idea.

Iruka went over to it to toss some fire wood inside. He used a small Fire Release jutsu for kindling. Immediately, light, warmth and crackling sounds filled the space. Iruka returned to his storage scrolls to produce a futon which he spread out by the hearth. He hesitated by Kakashi’s side for a moment before picking him up and laying him down on the bedding. Kakashi’s clothes were still soaked from the rain, but Iruka was loathe to fully remove any of them to reveal parts of someone who wanted to be hidden. Iruka decided to wait and see whether the hearth was going to help in drying things enough that he could keep from undressing him further.

For a bit, Iruka just knelt there. He watched Kakashi breathe and sometimes hovered over him to check on the bandages. His own clothes were wet and uncomfortable, but he couldn’t find it in himself to abandon his self-assigned post.

He knelt there for long enough that his legs to began to cramp. Seeing no change in Kakashi’s condition and realizing that he still had a job to do, he began to fulfill his mission. He checked back on Kakashi every minute or so to make sure that he was going to catch the tiniest change. Any little sign of things getting better. Or things getting worse.

Iruka opened the drawers, cabinets and chests in the safehouse and began to restock them. Some scrolls, he stored there as such, replacing empty ones. Others, he opened himself to deposit the contents directly. He also opened up hidden compartments to check their contents and restock what was inside.

Once he was done, he located a specific floorboard by a trunk in the corner. With ease, he pushed one edge down and lifted it out from the other end, revealing another secret compartment. Inside of it sat a thick ledger. Iruka pulled it out and opened it. He went back to the last restock entry from a couple of months prior. Then he went over all the entries that had been made between then and now – shinobi recording what supplies they had used. Iruka nodded to himself as everything lined up with the way he had found things and made his own entry. He wrote down the date, his shinobi registration number and everything he’d restocked. He also made a note that everything was now at maximum allotted supply again.

He then closed the ledger, put it back into the compartment and replaced the floorboard. He sighed and made his way over to his backpack again. It was only then that he noticed a track of dried muddy footprints leading from the door to the supplies and back to the door. It clicked. Iruka looked at Kakashi, who was still in front of the hearth.

“I guess you weren’t trying to die out there, after all.”

Kakashi groaned. Iruka’s eyes widened. He was at Kakashi’s side at once. “Kakashi-san? Can you hear me?”

Kakashi moved, just a little. His face turned away from the hearth and towards Iruka. He inhaled sharply and his eyes shot open. Panic was written across his face.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, you’re safe!” Iruka soothed.

Kakashi froze, likely suddenly aware of his wounds. He groaned. His left eye closed. His right eye searched the room with uncoordinated movement. He didn’t look quite present. “Iruka... sensei...,” he muttered with a rough, barely audible voice.

“Yes. That’s right. I’m here. You’re safe now, please just rest.”

Kakashi’s head lulled around before his gaze eventually found him again. “You... You shouldn’t... be here,” he forced out.

All that concern and worry immediately turned into anger. “What? Oh, because you can’t avoid me here?! Well, I’m sorry for saving your life! I guess I should have just let you bleed to death out in the rain! That would have been so much better than you having to be in here with me!”

“You can’t be here...,” Kakashi repeated as though he hadn’t heard Iruka. “I don’t...” He struggled to keep speaking.

Iruka just stared at him, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“I don’t want you to die.”

Iruka stared at him in bewilderment. But before he could ask what those words were supposed to mean, Kakashi’s eye fell shut and unconsciousness claimed him once more.

-

Pain.

That was the first thing Kakashi became aware of. Searing pain, dull pain, throbbing pain. Different kinds of pain. It held his entire body in a tight grip, clustering in different parts in tight, agonizing bundles. From the pulsating bruises on his shoulders to the stabbing ache in his abdomen that refused to let him breathe right.

Kakashi often woke up in pain. But this time, he vaguely felt surprised to be waking up at all.

He opened his eye. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a wooden ceiling above. A loud crackling noise drew his attention and he realized he was lying close to a lit hearth where a fire was devouring a stack of logs. He was lying on his back and there was something soft underneath him. He began to wonder about his unexpected surroundings but then his eye fell onto the back of someone else who was crouched down in close proximity. The red and green of a Konoha flak jacket greeted him. An ally. Someone had found him and brought him here.

Kakashi observed for a moment and noted the ponytail, the build of the person and the way they moved. Oh.

“Iruka-sensei,” he rasped before he could think better of it. His voice had all the pleasantness of someone rubbing two very rough stones together.

Iruka turned around. “Kakashi-san. You’re awake again.”

Again? Kakashi had no memory of being awake before. Not unusual for the state his body was in, but he found it disconcerting nonetheless. He spotted an open medkit beside himself and a glance down at his own body revealed neatly layered bandages. “You treated my wounds,” he assessed.

“I did.”

“How long has it been?”

“About twelve hours. But I have no idea how long you were out there,” Iruka explained.

Twelve hours. A significant amount of time to be spending in a shack, watching over someone who had abandoned you. Kakashi couldn’t even begin to appreciate how gracious Iruka was being. “Sorry,” he muttered as the weight of each hour of care sat heavy on his chest.

“You should be sorry!” Iruka snapped, temper visibly skyrocketing at once. He balled his hands to fists on top of his thighs as if to restrain himself from reaching out to Kakashi. “I thought you were going to die!”

That’s what Iruka was upset about. Not the effort he had invested in saving Kakashi’s life, but the fact that Kakashi had been on the verge of dying at all. “I wasn’t trying to.”

Iruka looked at him with that unbridled intensity for a long moment. A million things were raging in those eyes. A million more were probably trapped behind those lips, waiting to spill free and tear through Kakashi’s soul. But instead of giving him a tongue-lashing, Iruka eventually just deflated with a sigh. “How did you even end up there? There were no enemies in the area.”

Kakashi stared back up at the ceiling as he recalled his mission. His very, very derailed mission. “I can’t go into the details. I pursued some people on foreign soil.” According to Godaime, she had repeatedly tried to get someone in the Land of Hot Springs to investigate the band of criminals that were based in their territory. At least once they had started carrying their smuggling activities into Fire Country. Worse, Godaime had suspected them to be guilty of not only smuggling some items, but also trafficking people. And, apparently, no one had tried stopping them. There was also a chance that this group had ties to the criminal Kakashi had fought in the Land of Earth, so sending him on this mission had been the logical solution. “I was sent to investigate and engage if I saw an opportunity.”

Kakashi decided not to mention that he’d ‘made’ an opportunity rather than taken one. When he had seen that the cargo of the caravan he’d been tracking had indeed been human beings and when he’d heard the traffickers discuss the option of ‘ditching some cargo’, engaging had become the only option.

“They had captives under genjutsu to keep them docile,” Kakashi continued. “I didn’t realize that the genjutsu also allowed the enemy some amount of control over the captives. It was my mistake. I should have considered it.”

“The captives attacked you?” Iruka guessed.

“Yes. It put me at a disadvantage I hadn’t anticipated. Especially because I couldn’t risk hurting them. I did manage to kill most of the enemies and release most of the captives. But the fight drew the attention of local authorities and I escaped.”

Iruka sucked in a sharp breath. Kakashi agreed with that sound. His mission parameters had stated secrecy as a priority. Tsunade was not going to be happy about this development. He hoped that the henge he had put up had successfully concealed his affiliation and identity.

“I was injured. The only reasonable course of action was retreat. I lost most of my medical supplies in the battle and aimed to get to the next safehouse.”

“Only to find the safehouse storages empty,” Iruka said.

“Yes. That’s when the bad weather hit. I didn’t make it much further,” Kakashi explained. He paused. Speaking made his throat feel raw. “As you probably saw.”

Iruka nodded. He frowned. “I wish I’d been here sooner.”

Kakashi looked back at Iruka with raised eyebrows. Iruka’s eyes were cast downward. Kakashi hardly imagined Iruka to have spent his time dawdling. This was an opportunity. Clearly, avoiding Iruka hadn’t resulted in the animosity he had hoped to provoke. Instead, Iruka had saved his life. But if Kakashi used this opportunity to say something awful, to blame Iruka for something that he truly wasn’t to blame for, maybe it was going to terminate their friendship for good.

But as Kakashi looked at the frown on Iruka’s face, something in his chest constricted. And he knew at once that that was out of the question. “Maa, it wasn’t your fault,” he drawled.

“I know,” Iruka replied and looked back up to him. But he must have felt some kind of responsibility nonetheless if the troubled look on his face was any indication. “Still.”

“Well, you were here in time,” Kakashi added.

“I guess so.” Iruka mustered him. His jaw tensed and his brows knit together. “Though I suppose you would have preferred someone else, huh.”

It sounded like an accusation. It probably was one, too. Kakashi averted his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t true, of course. But then admitting that was going to undermine all of Kakashi’s hard work in avoiding Iruka. And it had truly been hard work, considering how often he’d almost given in.

“Why?” Iruka then asked. And he didn’t sound livid, the way Kakashi had imagined he was going to sound if they ever spoke again. He sounded small. Heartbroken. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

Kakashi just stared at a point in space, unsure of how to explain. Not wanting to explain anything at all.

“Can you look at me?”

Kakashi blinked and he turned his head to look at Iruka. He looked devastated.

“Are you not going to say anything? If you don’t want me around then that’s- well, that’s that. But at least tell me why. Was this some kind of game to you? Were you just laughing at me behind my back?”

Kakashi’s eye widened. “Of course not.”

“Then did I do something?”

“Absolutely not. You’re-”-wonderful. – perfect. – amazing. “You’re not at fault.”

Iruka searched his face. “Then why?”

Kakashi stared back up at the ceiling. “I just- I needed a change.”

“A change?”

“Yes. I needed a change. And I was too much of a coward to tell you,” Kakashi half-lied.

Iruka narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“I-”

“You are lying to me,” Iruka insisted, his gaze becoming harsh. He hesitated. “Do you remember when you woke up before?”

Kakashi eyed Iruka. “I don’t.”

“You said I can’t be here.”

Kakashi swallowed. His throat was dry. “Did I?”

“Yes. You said I can’t be here because you don’t want me to die.”

Ah. So it was like that. In a moment of weakness and semi-unconsciousness, Kakashi’s own stupid mouth had betrayed him. “Sorry,” he said. “What an odd thing to say. Well, you know how it is in such situations. Brains without blood do weird things.”

But Iruka didn’t seem amused or impressed with his claim. “What did you mean?” he pressed.

“Huh?”

Iruka looked at him intently. “What did you mean when you said that you don’t want me to die? There’s no enemies around. I’m on a normal mission. Why would me being here endanger my life?”

“I meant nothing-“

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka interrupted, his voice and expression stern. “You’ve been avoiding me for over a month without so much as a word. And the first thing you say to me after all this time is that. Please don’t belittle me by telling me it meant nothing or that I shouldn’t think about it. I’m not stupid.”

Kakashi stared at Iruka. He hadn’t meant to insult him. He cast his gaze aside, observing the fire instead of the displeased twists of Iruka’s face. He knew he owed Iruka something here. Some kind of explanation at least. But how he was supposed to explain anything, be it his avoidance or his unplanned words, was beyond him. “It’s not... It’s not ‘here’.”

“What?”

“It’s not about the location. It’s about,” Kakashi paused. “Proximity.”

“Proximity?” Iruka asked. “To what? You?”

Kakashi nodded.

“You’re not making any sense.”

Kakashi just observed the fire, unsure of how else to say it.

“You’re saying that being in your proximity kills me,” Iruka said.

Kakashi remained quiet.

“Why? How?”

Kakashi wished he knew. If he knew what kind of cosmic entity he had pissed off enough to be dealt the hand he’d been dealt, perhaps he could have made amends or something. “I don’t know.”

Iruka was quiet for a moment as he probably tried to understand what Kakashi was telling him. “So being in your proximity kills me. And you don’t know why.”

“It’s- It’s not ended well for people before you.”

“But we’ve been hanging out for months. And I’m fine.”

That didn’t have to mean anything. Kakashi had had Minato and Obito and Rin for years.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You think- what, you think I’ll die because of you?” Iruka asked, sounding incredulous.

The way Iruka phrased it made it sound like Kakashi was being ridiculous. He understood why. But he couldn’t find the words to articulate why it wasn’t.

Iruka seemed to take his silence as assent, which was fair enough at this point, and he kept talking. “Kakashi-san, I- I understand that you must have lost someone. And I’m sorry. But that doesn’t say anything about my fate. We’re shinobi. People in our ranks dying is awful, but it’s- it happens. That’s not because of you.”

Iruka didn’t understand. And Kakashi really couldn’t expect him to. Kakashi closed his eyes. “It is.”

There was silence. Of course there was. Kakashi hadn’t given Iruka enough information to truly understand what had happened or why he was at such a high risk. “Okay, fine,” Iruka said. “Let’s say it’s true. For some reason, people around you have gone and it’s had something to do with you. That doesn’t mean it will happen again.”

Kakashi stared into the fire. He remembered. When his students had left on their own ways to train. When he’d been too late to keep Sasuke in the village and too pathetic and weak-hearted to change his mind before then. Lonely little Naruto and the way he’d never done anything for him. The night of the kyūbi attack and how he hadn’t been able to stand by Minato’s side. Rin, forever impaled on his hand. Obito, forever stuck under that boulder.

His father’s curled and bloodied body forever on the tatami after Kakashi hadn’t been there in time to keep him. Hadn’t been enough to save him.

“I fail people,” he blurted out.

“What?”

“I fail people,” Kakashi repeated. “It’s a pattern. I fail someone and they pay a price.” And sometimes that price was their life.

“That’s ridiculous,” Iruka replied. “You’re one of the most accomplished shinobi in Konoha. Everyone knows that you almost never fail a mission.”

Missions, no. Friends and comrades? Frequently. He wasn’t just accomplished. He was also cold-blooded Kakashi. Friend-killer Kakashi. The one people were afraid to be partnered up with. But he couldn’t get those words over his lips. Instead, he remembered the millions of worst-case scenarios his nightmares and sleepless nights had branded into his brain. “And because of that I’m in every Bingo Book we’ve ever recovered. And everyone I associate with is at risk.”

“So you’re afraid of me being used as leverage against you? I can handle myself, Kakashi-san.”

“There’s dangers that are too great for you. Too great for anyone.” Too great for Kakashi to protect him from. Kakashi turned to look at Iruka. “I don’t doubt your skills, but the kinds of people that hold grudges against me are not ordinary ninja.”

Iruka frowned. “Even so. I’m in the village most of the time. I’m safe.”

“You’re out here now,” Kakashi reminded him. “If someone came here right now in pursuit of me, there’s nothing I could do.” Kakashi was going to fail again. And another precious person was going to die.

“No one’s going to come here. This place is protected.”

“Yes, but-“

“’But’ nothing. This is what you do with a risk. You take precautions. That’s what we’re taught to do.”

Kakashi shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I do,” Iruka replied. Kakashi met his eyes. “I understand. Letting someone in when you’ve already suffered loss is difficult.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I think it is. Losing someone is horrible. Especially when you feel responsible. Like you could have seen it coming. Like you maybe could have done something to turn it all around. Like maybe it was your fault all along,” Iruka said and he looked away. “So you get suspicious and hesitant to let someone in again. They might hurt you that same way. By leaving. Or by betraying you. And you don’t want that. You know how much that hurts and how devastating that is. So it’s easier, maybe, to just not try at all.”

Kakashi stared at Iruka.

“But then you close yourself off and cast those out who care and where does that leave you? Hurting all the time, probably.” Iruka turned back to Kakashi. “That’s no way of living, Kakashi-san. You have to take the risk of grief and heartbreak for friendship and companionship.” He paused. “I worry about you. Every time you leave on a mission, I worry deeply that it might be your last. But you are worth that worry to me. Your friendship is worth that risk.”

Kakashi felt some of his remaining blood rise to his cheeks as Iruka gave him a sad, soft smile.

“So if you want to avoid me in some misguided attempt to protect me: Don’t. You know how to take risks. Take one for me.”

Kakashi blinked. He looked away again. “I don’t know. I- Losing anyone else- Losing you-“ He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t explain to Iruka just how closely his life and presence was tied to Kakashi’s survival.

“You’d endure. You’d keep going. It’s what we do,” Iruka reminded softly. “It’s what we’ve always done.”

Kakashi wasn’t sure that that was true. That that was what Kakashi had done so far.

“Meeting up with you,” Iruka said, “gave me some of my favorite memories this year. I’m not willing to give those up because of fear. If you don’t want me around, that’s one thing. That’s just what it is. But if you also want to keep seeing me and all that’s stopping you is some nebulous risk, let me decide that it’s worth it.”

“What?”

Iruka was smiling. “You say you’re putting me at risk. Well, I’m willing to take it. It’s worth it to me. That’s my choice. You can’t make that choice for me. All you can do is choose for yourself.”

Kakashi shook his head. “I can’t let you take that risk.”

“You can. Because I can make my own decisions. I can care about you and choose to continue to care about you and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

Kakashi frowned.

“Look, there’s only so many things we actually get to decide. Whom we want to spend time with is one of them. I want to spend time with you. Do you want to spend time with me?

Kakashi blinked.

“Do you?” Iruka pressed.

“Yes,” Kakashi whispered as if he was admitting to a guilty secret.

Iruka’s smile brightened. “Then do it. And let me worry about my own safety.”

Kakashi just stared in dismay.

Iruka seemed to notice and his expression softened again. “It’ll be terrifying for a bit – letting someone in again. But eventually, friendships won’t be nerve-wrecking. I promise.”

Kakashi searched Iruka’s face, looked into his eyes and he found no lie. Just compassion. “Okay.”

“But it will be nerve-wrecking,” Iruka continued, his voice becoming louder, “if you ever pull something like this again.” He glared. “Just because I want to keep you around doesn’t mean I’m not livid about you ignoring me.”

“I-“

“I mean, honestly, why not come to me and say ‘maa, sensei, do you wanna keep being friends even if I’m in some Bingo Books’?,” he made the worst impression that Kakashi had ever heard of himself. “It would have been so much easier! The tea house had cakes for a limited amount of time that we missed out on, Kakashi-san! Instead, you were wasting a month of both of our lives brooding about the possibility of death.”

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said because there was nothing else to say.

“Damn right you are. You better make it up to me.”

“I will,” Kakashi promised. He hesitated. “With ramen?”

“Two bowls. With extra toppings. And a beverage,” Iruka insisted. “And that’s letting you off the hook lightly.”

“Deal,” Kakashi agreed. He would have bought hundreds of bowls.

“But I’m serious,” Iruka fixed him an intense look. “I want us to be friends. But I’m not going to keep coming back to you if you keep pushing me away. If you don’t have time to tell me that you have to leave, fine. But no more avoiding. No more cold shoulder.”

“I promise.”

Iruka nodded. “Now, you need your rest, so try to sleep some more. We’re going to get you proper medical care back in Konoha, but you’ll need to recover a bit before we can make that trek. Oh and don’t even think about escaping the hospital this time. I will personally seal you in if I have to.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows. “What about your class? Shouldn’t you return?”

“And leave you here by yourself? Not a chance. You’ll just end up doing something stupid and putting your life on the line again. I’m staying. End of discussion.”

Kakashi stared for another moment. Then he just relaxed into the futon. “Alright, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka hummed in satisfaction. For a moment, Kakashi just observed him, watching as he began to roll out his own futon. But his vision blurred quickly, his eyes fell shut and he slowly drifted off to sleep again.

Chapter Text

Present day

Kakashi hadn’t been over. Again.

Iruka had spent the night alone. Again.

And again, a tulip had been added to the vase in Iruka’s living room.

Iruka was staring at it. Its head was pointing almost perfectly straight upwards and it was sitting right in the center of the slowly developing bouquet. At least the symmetry of the display was still intact. Iruka had first found it when he’d returned from his evening shift at the Mission Desk the previous day. This tulip had arrived not only with a crushing sense of disappointment, but also a note.

‘Miss you,’ Kakashi had written. He’d added a doodle of a sad dog holding a heart that had made Iruka smile. But the note hadn’t provided an explanation.

“What’s he up to,” Iruka muttered. He glared at the newest tulip as if it was going to crack and tell him everything under the right pressure. But the tulip held its silence.

Three nights was nothing. Kakashi and him had done three nights before. More, even. Way more back when Kakashi had still been out in the field.

But usually, they didn’t have something like a fight right before. And also, Shikamaru wasn’t normally there to make strange and ominous remarks about ‘long days’ while staring at Kakashi’s office windows. It made Iruka terribly restless. It made him want to know what was going on.

Almost worse, in between all the missing and the longing were the memories of the not-date with Kumi and those silly thoughts of wanting something similar with Kakashi. Perhaps not something exactly like that evening but something different from what they had. Something that wasn’t Kakashi and him being trapped inside his apartment. He thought about it whenever he walked past restaurants or bars, whenever he saw two people leisurely walking together down the street- it was everywhere. It made not seeing Kakashi unbearable.

He had a half a mind to waltz into the Hokage’s office to demand answers for his prolonged absence. But at the same time, he trusted Kakashi and he knew very well that he wanted to come over just as much as Iruka wanted to have him there.

He just had to deal with it.

He took a deep, measured breath – he seemed to be needing a lot of those these days – and turned away from the trinity of tulips to leave for the Academy.

As Kakashi and him hadn’t seen each other since the night of Iruka’s date with Kumi he had yet to tell him about the gossip – which Kakashi may have even heard himself at this point – and he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him that there weren’t going to be anymore dates thanks to him finally speaking with Naruto. And in addition, Iruka desperately wanted to know what was happening on Kakashi’s end. Whether it was just work keeping him occupied or something else. What was causing him grief and trouble and what Iruka could offer his thoughts and insights on.

Mostly, he wanted to hold Kakashi. To wrap his arms around his slim waist and pull him close, pressing their bodies together. To bury his face in Kakashi’s shirt and inhale his scent. To taste him on his lips and his tongue and to experience him with every sense.

Such thoughts were a little selfish, as Iruka knew. Kakashi was burning the candle at both ends more often than not and still made time to come see Iruka in spite of it. And all Iruka could think about was how much more he wanted of him. It was unfair of him to expect Kakashi to be the one to come over all the time. If this kept up, he was going to exhaust himself to death. Maybe this time, it was up to Iruka to close the gap between them. Surely, this circumstance called for him to do something.

He was going to find a way.

After work.

He arrived at the Academy. Fortunately, the wall was graffiti-free this morning. He stopped by the teacher’s lounge to greet some of his colleagues before heading to his classroom. As per usual, he could already hear the excited chatter of the kids from down the hallway. The door wasn’t shut.

“That’s how they did it, you know,” one of the kids proclaimed as Iruka drew close. He stopped in his tracks, curious about what was going on.

Mostly, he stopped because he recognized the voice. The child who had spoken up was a boy named Hideo. The son of jōnin parents, as he often felt the need to mention, he usually drew a bit of a crowd with tales of ‘real’ shinobi exploits. He was also one of the artists that had put Iruka’s likeness on the front of the school. Twice. Hideo wasn’t the only child of shinobi parents in Iruka’s class, though two active duty jōnin was something of a rarity. Especially for non-clan children.

“That sounds really mean,” one of the other boys, a gentle soul named Yū, replied to whatever Hideo had talked about.

“It was not!” Hideo insisted.

The tone was getting a bit too aggressive for Iruka’s liking, so he entered the room before a fight could break out. The students scrambled to get to their seats and stood at attention as he walked in. He looked at the class and greeted them with a smile as he closed the door behind himself. He instructed the students to sit down before starting today’s lesson. Hideo was a troublemaker and seemed to be in a particularly unruly mood that day. He was defiant. Maybe because Iruka had made him scrub the school walls the day before. Kids tended not to like that, even if they were entirely to blame for it.

Even so, Hideo was developing an attitude that Iruka honestly found draining. He wasn’t like Naruto, who had done pranks for attention and had genuinely wanted to do good. He acted like school was beneath him. Iruka had experience with this. It wasn’t uncommon for kids like Hideo who had high-ranking parents that trained them at home. It also was a bit of a symptom in clan children. And, as was the case with Hideo, this attitude was only bolstered when other kids started to admire them or eagerly listen to their stories.

Iruka normally did his best to get those kids engaged with the material and motivated at school, but he knew that school wasn’t the root cause of him being difficult. If this got worse, Iruka was going to have to seek out a conversation with his parents. Something that Iruka hoped to avoid at all costs because while parents could be annoying, shinobi parents were exhausting.

Eventually, it was lunch time and Iruka watched as everyone filtered out of the classroom. He smiled. They had been making good progress so far that day. Overall, his class was handling the drier material about rules very well. Even though a handful of the kids were lagging behind, especially when it came to international topics. He was going to have to make sure to go over it again with them. Maybe he could suggest study groups.

Iruka pondered this as he cleaned the blackboard. He set down the sponge and wiped his hands with a towel. He was about to head out into his own lunch break when he noticed a book being left behind on one of the desks. There had been no books needed in class that day so Iruka was surprised.

Curious, he went over to pick it up.

‘Tales of Glory: Stories from Shinobi Around the World’

Iruka frowned. He didn’t know this particular book, but the title alone gave him an uncomfortable feeling. He cracked it open to skim the contents. It was full of stories – at a glance, of questionable authenticity – focused on shinobi attaining acclaim and victory throughout history. What made Iruka’s stomach turn was how violent those stories appeared to be, some of them full of descriptions that seemed to be a bit much for his class. He shut the book and put it back down.

Violence was a facet of shinobi life. And it was important for kids to learn about it, as much as Iruka grappled with that fact sometimes. They were at peace and he was teaching kids to handle weapons.

But he tried to not only teach them how to inflict violence, but also how to avoid it. How to protect themselves and others from it and how to find solutions that didn’t require death. He’d been pushing some reforms within the school, just like Kakashi had been reforming the whole village. Seeking to protect children from atrocities. As victims and as perpetrators.

Violence was supposed to be a last resort. And it wasn’t something the kids were supposed to start their career with. Even before the alliance, genin had to hunt cats and paint buildings before they could move on to anything even potentially lethal. The only exception to that had been during active wars.

Needless to say, this book wasn’t something anyone in his class should have been reading at their age. Much less bring it to school to show it around. Iruka looked to Hideo’s empty chair. It was a different desk, but considering the stories he told from his parents, he wondered whether it was perhaps his.

Contemplating what to do, Iruka decided to take the book. If the owner came looking for it, he could talk to them about it. But for now, he put it in his teaching bag before leaving the classroom to get lunch.

-

Kakashi had been stuck behind his desk all day. The new emergency response plans weren’t going to draw themselves, unfortunate as it was. He was staring at some blueprints surrounded by a selection of his notes and grumbled before picking up one of the sheets of paper and crumpling it. Striking the balance between effectiveness and budget was something he was normally decent at. But that skill had been woefully absent during the last hours.

Maybe it was his sour mood. He’d been up half the night, ensuring the Hokage Residence was secure and that there was no way for someone to enter that he wasn’t aware of. There had been nothing. And Kakashi felt like he was going insane. Or losing touch. How much of the threat of the elders was real and how much was just his paranoia?

It felt impossible to tell.

There was a knock at his door and he eagerly called the person inside, relieved to have something to look at that that wasn’t these damned blueprints or his frustrating notes. Shikamaru appeared in the doorway.

“Ah, Shikamaru-kun,” Kakashi greeted.

“Morning. Do you have a minute?”

“I can make time,” Kakashi said and put down his pen for emphasis. “Is this about the delegation from Lightning Country? Are we going to see them off?”

“Tomorrow,” Shikamaru replied. “They’re talking to some local vendors today.”

“Ah. Well, good work in your negotiations with them. I was impressed with the result.”

Shikamaru averted his eyes. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“But that’s not why you’re here,” Kakashi ventured. Taking in the posture and expression of his assistant, Kakashi noted that he seemed like he rather would have been anywhere else. The last time Shikamaru had looked this uncomfortable was the last time he had asked for time off to go to Suna.

“It’s not. I need to talk to you,” Shikamaru said without looking at Kakashi.

Kakashi propped his head up on his hand. “Go on.”

Shikamaru looked at him, still restless but with an intense expression. “I need to talk to you alone.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He mustered Shikamaru for a moment before nodding. He cleared his throat. “Take a break, everyone!” he called. He felt the fluttering of movement outside the windows immediately as his ANBU took off to give him privacy. And a moment later, Shikamaru and him were alone. Kakashi leaned back in his chair. “With this much protection, you’d think I was getting assassination threats on a daily basis.” He sighed. “Anyway, what is it?”

Shikamaru opened his mouth once but then closed it again. He grit his teeth. He almost never hesitated like this. He looked up at the ceiling as if trying to summon his own mental strength, took a breath, and finally looked back at Kakashi. “Naruto is trying to set Iruka-sensei up with someone.”

“Oh,” Kakashi said. It was all he could say, really. He had thought Shikamaru was going to ask to go to Suna again. Or that he was going to bring up something about Kakashi’s conduct. Or a complaint about someone at the Tower, maybe. Never in a million years would Kakashi have expected Shikamaru to bring up Kakashi’s boyfriend. Willingly. And Kakashi realized that he was completely unprepared for it. Breathing became more challenging than it had been a moment ago. His body seemed indecisive about feeling hot or cold. A prickle of anxiety ran through his system. Of course, he let none of that show. He swallowed. “Still?” he asked as evenly as he could.

Shikamaru paused and Kakashi didn’t know whether he was successfully faking his nonchalance or not. “You knew?”

Kakashi tried to gather himself to push through the ‘Someone is talking to me about Iruka’ of it all. “I was told last week. Seems he has been trying for a while.”

“I see,” Shikamaru replied. His unease seemed to have faded and been replaced with a different kind of tension. One that was difficult to decipher. He fell silent after that, continuing to look at Kakashi as if trying to find the solution to a puzzle. If all he had come in for was to tell Kakashi this one piece of information, he was done. And yet, he lingered. He definitely appeared like he wanted to leave. But he didn’t.

“What is it?” Kakashi prompted.

Shikamaru grimaced. “I don’t want to advise you on personal matters. Sincerely. But if you knew, why haven’t you done anything?”

So this wasn’t done, after all. Kakashi crossed his arms as he considered his assistant. If Kakashi dismissed him with a request to never bring up his personal life again, Shikamaru was going to gladly accept that and leave.

But he didn’t want to dismiss him.

Kakashi was, and always had been, a deeply private person. He evaded personal questions, avoided sharing things whenever he could and generally kept to himself. So the urge that suddenly overcame him, which told him to share, was alien enough that it might as well have been the effect of a powerful genjutsu-based compulsion. Kakashi was, for the first time ever, being given the chance to freely talk about his relationship to someone. And that chance felt like fresh air or sunlight. This could very well be the last opportunity in a long time. A very long time. Kakashi couldn’t let it pass him by.

He opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a paper tag. It contained the script for a simple, instantaneous soundproofing seal. He held it out to Shikamaru. “Put this on the door and activate it please.”

Shikamaru approached and took the tag before going to affix it to the door and infusing it with a small amount of his chakra. Symbols appeared around it, reaching outwards and decorating the surrounding walls in faintly glowing chains of characters. Shikamaru then turned back toward him with an expectant look.

“To answer your question: As much as I would like to, there is nothing I can do about it,” Kakashi said.

“You can’t publicly interfere,” Shikamaru agreed. “But you don’t have to. Naruto seems pretty fixated on his plan. But he would stop if you told him the truth.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I didn’t say it was. If it was you would have told him already,” Shikamaru pointed out.

“It’s not an option,” Kakashi rephrased.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “Why? You don’t trust him to keep a secret?”

Kakashi hesitated. “He’s proven himself capable of handling confidential information.”

“Are you afraid he won’t approve?”

“I know he won’t. We’re talking about Iruka here.” Kakashi swallowed, feeling a sudden rush. He’d never called Iruka by his first name without an honorific in the presence of someone else. But he just had. It felt miraculous. Kakashi had to push through the elation to keep speaking. “I could never be good enough for him. Not in Naruto’s eyes. He might come around once he’s made sure that Iruka’s happy, though.”

Shikamaru crossed his arms, waiting.

Kakashi sighed. “The truth is, that I- we have considered telling him. Many times.”
‘We’. What a powerful, wonderful, potent, magical word – we. The two of them. Iruka and Kakashi. Kakashi and Iruka. ‘We’.

“But?”

“Well, imagine if we actually told him. He would have to lie to everyone. And you know how he is. It’d be torture for him.”

Shikamaru hummed. He tilted his head, seemingly mulling over Kakashi’s explanation. “I guess I see how that could be a problem.”

“It would be a burden. He’d have to keep himself from sharing things with his friends. And he’d have to accept it whenever someone talks about Iruka’s supposed bachelor status. Without intervening or rushing to his defense.” Kakashi shrugged. “Would it make some things easier? Sure. But that’s not something I can ask of him. And Iruka feels that way, too.”

“So you’re trying to protect him.”

“Yes. Honestly, no one should have to lie for me.” Kakashi gave Shikamaru a serious look. “It’s bad enough that I’ve put you in this situation. Where you felt forced to come to me to tattle on your friend.”

“You didn’t ask me to,” Shikamaru pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. And I never will ask something like that of you. Neither as your superior nor as your comrade. Still, whether it’s kindness or loyalty, you seem to feel some obligation to this secret. You shouldn’t have to.”

Shikamaru scoffed. “It’s not that bad. I don’t care about gossip so I’m not going to start gossiping about my boss.”

“And that, Shikamaru-kun, is a blessing.”

Shikamaru hummed. “I understand your reasons. But if you’ll allow my input, I don’t think your strategy is that great.”

Kakashi blinked. He hadn’t thought of it as a ‘strategy’ so far. “Oh?”

Shikamaru nodded. “I don’t know if you’ve seen Naruto’s intensity, but this is something he cares about pretty deeply. He’s not going to give up on this. We both know Naruto’s determined when he cares about something. He might very well try this for a year. Or drop it and then pick it back up again in three or five years.  And if each of his attempts draws unwanted attention and takes away from your resources, like your energy, it seems like an unstable situation.”

It was a fair assessment and one that Kakashi didn’t really know how to counter. He rarely thought this far ahead in regards to his personal life, only hoping for his eventual retirement to bring some relief. Because whenever he did think about the next years he came to the unfortunate conclusion that Iruka and him were stuck the way they were. For years to come. “It will be fine. We’ll endure.”

Shikamaru appeared entirely unimpressed. “Well, yes, you will do that either way. But even ignoring the added attention and the effect on your resources, Naruto is going to realize that something is up eventually. It’s inevitable. And if something is inevitable, it’s best to get ahead of it. Even if it’s annoying.”

“It’s not inevitable,” Kakashi reminded. “I agree that Naruto’s intensity is troublesome. And yes, if he gives this his undivided attention for a prolonged time, he is eventually going to realize that there’s more to the story. But it’s not like we’re out of other options. For now, we can wait. It’s only been a little while and he might still lose interest in this.”

“I doubt it. Naruto’s dead set on his goal right now. He’s even planning to investigate Iruka-sensei further. Which you might want to warn him about.”

“Seriously?” Kakashi sighed. “Alright. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll figure something out.”

“Sure.”

“This is a problem. Iruka isn’t fond of lying to him, but maybe we need to come up with an actual cover story. For Naruto at least, but that would mean creating something others can believe, too,” Kakashi mused. Not that Kakashi enjoyed lying to Naruto or any of his precious people about his relationship status. But Iruka was definitely far more affected by the deceit than he was.

Shikamaru remained quiet for a moment. He looked at Kakashi. Shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He seemed to consider and reconsider. He opened his mouth. Paused. Then, he spoke. “It’s really not my place,” he started. “But there is another option.”

“Which is?”

“If you don’t like lying to Naruto and you don’t want Naruto to have to lie, either, you could let people know.”

“People?”

“Konoha. Everyone.” Shikamaru frowned. “I know that’s not easy, either. And I get that that has something to do with the nature of- things. But with the longevity of such a secret, and all the other factors, it seems like an option worth considering.”

Kakashi hummed. He looked at his hands on top of the desk. “It’s not just ‘not easy’. It’s impossible. It can’t happen.”

Shikamaru said nothing, giving Kakashi space to explain.

Kakashi stared at his hands. “Relationships like Iruka’s and mine aren’t accepted. They might be okay when you’re young and experimenting. Maybe if it’s a flirtation. Or when something happens on a mission. But other than that- The notion that such a relationship might be meaningful, long-term and mature is rejected by most everyone. If it were to become public knowledge, it would be hell. Neither Iruka nor I would be welcome here anymore.”

“People can change their minds,” Shikamaru suggested carefully. “They have before. They used to reject and hate Naruto. Now they love him.”

“That’s true. But Naruto’s case is unique to the jinchūriki. It’s fear, really. The kind of rejection Iruka and I could experience is different. And difficult to fight against because it’s so ubiquitous,” Kakashi explained. “There have been cases like ours in Konoha before. None of them ended well.” The last one Kakashi remembered happened while he had been in ANBU. He’d been on the squad sent to retrieve the two runaway kunoichi that had fallen in love with one another. All they’d managed to bring back were bodies.

“Those happened in the past, though. You’re Hokage now. You have the power to influence the people.”

“Not like that. The people are the people and they already have their opinions. There are limitations to the effect of a Kage. As there should be.”

“You can still sway them. You’ve cleared Itachi-san’s name.”

“And how many people truly accept him to have been a hero?” Kakashi asked. He shook his head. “I can’t influence people like that. A Hokage can’t change the way people think. Not truly.” Sandaime hadn’t cleared his father’s name. And Minato hadn’t been able to do anything about ‘Friend-Killer Kakashi’.

Shikamaru groaned. “I don’t get what the big deal about it is, anyway. Why care about someone else’s business?”

Kakashi smiled a little. That was part of why he appreciated Shikamaru so much. “You know other people’s business is the favorite interest of nearly everyone in the village.”

“I suppose. It just doesn’t make sense why anyone would care about this when nothing would change.”

“We all expect each other to fulfill certain roles in a certain way,” Kakashi pondered. “Hokage, shinobi, clan heir, ...”

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. “Clan heir? That’s part of it, too?”

Kakashi looked at him. “Well. As a clan heir yourself, what do you think the village sees as your number one priority?”

Shikamaru inclined his head. “Maintaining the stability of the clan.”

“Sure, yes. But also to keep the clan alive. Clan heirs are expected to produce new heirs to pass their genes and secrets onto. Especially anyone who has a kekkei genkai. In fact, the elders recently reminded me of that. And now, they refuse to get off my case about settling down with a wife and kids.”

“Because you’re from the Hatake clan.”

“The last of it, yes. The way they see it – the way many people in the village see it – I have the obligation to make sure my bloodline continues. Which, as I’m sure I don’t have to explain, does not work in my current relationship.”

“But you don’t even have a kekkei genkai.”

“I don’t. But my father and I were considered to be extremely skilled shinobi. The kind future generations could benefit from.” Kakashi groaned. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been nagging me about having kids for years. But this is the first time they’ve brought it up since I’ve become Hokage. When I was just a jōnin, there wasn’t much they could do. None of the Hokage I served under ever seemed to care about it. And no one actually wanted me to stick around here long enough to find someone to marry. I was needed out in the field.”

“But now that you’re Hokage, you’re here most of the time,” Shikamaru said.

“Exactly.”

“And the political playing field is different now,” Shikamaru added.

“Yes, and underestimating the influence of the elders would be a mistake.”

“Okay, but this is only a problem because they don’t know the truth, right? If they did, they’d have to back off.”

“No. If they knew the truth, they’d know there’s an obstacle. And I cannot let that happen. They could very well use the secrecy of the relationship to try to blackmail me,” Kakashi explained. “Worst case, they could reveal everything to the people.”

“But that’s still supposing the people wouldn’t come around. Even if the they aren’t used to this, they respect you. There’s no way that changes overnight.”

Kakashi went still. “Greater shinobi than me have fallen to slander.”

Shikamaru said nothing at that.

“Anyway. I appreciate your insights.”

“But reject them all.”

Kakashi hesitated. “No, I’m- I’ll take them into consideration.”

“Sure.”

Kakashi released a heavy breath. “By the way, how did you come about this information anyway? Did Naruto talk to you directly?”

“Ah. Sort of. He brought it up with our friend group yesterday. Asked everyone what kind of woman Iruka-sensei could be interested in.”

Kakashi barked out a bitter laugh. “And what kind of woman is that?”

“A stern and tidy, motherly and kind, Academy instructing kunoichi that he could spar with,” Shikamaru recounted. “Or something like that.”

“She sounds like quite the woman.”

“That reminds me. I should probably tell you that Sakura knows. About you.”

Kakashi stared. “Sakura? You’re sure?”

“I guess there’s about a 2% chance that there was a misunderstanding. But yeah, pretty sure.”

“How did she find out? When?”

“No idea. I only confirmed that she does. Naruto talked about his plans with everybody yesterday and she tried to dissuade him from the whole matchmaking spiel. I followed up on things with her afterwards. She doesn’t seem intent on sharing anything, either.”

Kakashi dragged a hand over his face as he groaned. “So now she feels like she has to lie to Naruto. One of her closest friends. Great. Just how obvious have we been?”

“You haven’t,” Shikamaru said easily. “No one else knew anything. I’ve never heard anyone suspect or even theorize about anything even remotely close to the truth. And if there ever had been gossip like that I would have been told. Against my will. By Ino, if no one else.”

“Hm.”

“If you want my honest opinion, I think you could even take a few more liberties. You’re never seen together. There’s no way anyone could reach the same conclusion I did. Sakura must have found out a while ago or something. But generally speaking, no one suspects a thing. No one even considers it to be an option, I think.”

Kakashi hummed. That was reassuring, at least.

“Alright. Well. I have things to do. Before I go, could I take one of those silencing tags with me?”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He dug out another soundproofing tag and handed it to Shikamaru. “Sure.”

Kakashi watched as Shikamaru tore off the silencing tag on the door and left. He relaxed back into his chair with a deep sigh once as he was alone. He still felt nervous energy thrumming through his system, no doubt a by-product of talking about Iruka and his relationship like that for the first time. It had been all strategy, of course. Plans and possibilities and risks. But it was still oddly exciting. And new.

If only it had left him with a slightly more optimistic feeling.

The way Shikamaru had so bluntly assessed the situation stuck with him as he turned his attention back toward his paperwork. There was a grim thought there. Because yes, Kakashi and Iruka were keeping things secret indefinitely. They were going to continue to lie everybody indefinitely. They were going to be confined to Iruka’s apartment with no reprieve indefinitely. Kakashi had known this. But whenever the oppressive, suffocating notion of continuing on and on like this for years had occurred to him he had tried to ignore it.

But now he couldn’t. He kept getting stuck on those words, making him feel trapped. They made him yearn for some kind of freedom.

Freedom that Shikamaru had suggested Iruka and him could claim more of. It seemed ridiculous. Unsafe.

Tempting.

If there was anyone capable of assessing a situation correctly, it was Shikamaru, right? If there was anyone who looked at all the angles and identified each possible danger and came up with a correct plan for how to proceed, it was him. Kakashi doubted that his assistant fully appreciated the gravity the consequences of having their relationship uncovered. But he fully trusted him when he said that Iruka and him were undetected and undetectable. And that there was perhaps a little more they could do. A little bit of life they could take for themselves that they so far hadn’t dared to reach for.

A thought worth investigating.

Kakashi continued to dwell on this as he resumed his paperwork. After a few minutes, he could tell that ANBU quietly returned to their posts outside his office. Nearly half an hour after that, Kakashi finished his current task and closed the folder. He reached over to another stack when the door burst open, slamming into the wall.

“Kakashi-sensei!”

Kakashi jumped to his feet. “Naruto? What’s wrong? What happened?” A spike of adrenaline shot though him. He was looking Naruto over, trying to find evidence of an emergency. Of a catastrophe. Of what he was up against. He was ready to command and delegate and fight.

“I need you to assign a mission to someone,” Naruto said as he stepped into the office.

“Huh?” Kakashi blinked. “What?”

“A mission. I told you.” Naruto closed the door. “Don’t worry. I’m prepared to pay for it like any other mission- er- customer. Completely legit, you know?”

“You want to hire someone for a mission? That’s why you’re here?”

“Yes. That’s something I can do, right?”

Kakashi deflated. His muscles relaxed and he sat back down. As his mind caught up to him and processed what Naruto had said, he had an idea about the direction this conversation was going. “You could. In theory, there are no limitations as to whom can try to put in a commission. But I or someone else who’s responsible can reject the assignment.”

“Great!”

“But you don’t have to come to me to do that. You do it through the Mission Administrations Office. Or the Mission Desk directly.” Kakashi leveled him a look. “Imagine if anyone who ever lost a cat came to me about it. I’d never get anything done.”

“This isn’t like a missing cat, you know!” Naruto said. “It’s far more important. And super-secret. The Hokage handles those kinds of missions. Granny Tsunade always did. Besides, it cannot go through the Mission Desk.”

“Oh?”

“And it doesn’t have to! Because I already know whom I’m assigning.”

“Okay? Well, what is the mission? And which shinobi do you want to hire?”

“I need someone to gather information. And I want Ino-chan to do it. She already basically agreed.”

Ah, yes. Kakashi could see where this was heading. A few steps too far, in his opinion. “What kind of information do you want her to obtain?”

Naruto stared at him. “The secret kind.”

“Naruto…”

“No Konoha secrets or anything! Just personal stuff. About someone local. No big deal.” Naruto made an awful attempt at appearing indifferent as he shoved his hands into his pockets and refused to meet Kakashi’s eyes all the while radiating eagerness and anticipation.

“So, let me get this straight: You want me to let you hire Yamanaka Ino to stalk and invade the privacy of a fellow Konoha citizen. A shinobi, I presume.”

Naruto grimaced and looked back at him with dismay. “You don’t have to say it like that, y’know? So can I?”

“No.”

“Come on, Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto whined.

“Is there any reason to suspect this shinobi of treason, are they a risk to others or themselves, or is there any other kind of danger that warrants intense surveillance by a comrade?”

“No! He’s a good person!”

“Understood. In that case: Absolutely not.”

Naruto pouted.

“I can’t just allow innocent people to be stalked.” Kakashi sighed. “Whom are we even talking about? And why do you think you need to stalk them?”

“It’s not stalking!” Naruto countered. “And it’s- well... don’t tell him, okay? It’s Iruka-sensei.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows a little bit to feign mild surprise. He had an opportunity here. He could intervene before Naruto became too obsessed with his idea. “Why do you want to investigate Iruka-sensei?”

“There are just some things I need to know about him.” Naruto crossed his arms.

“Maa, and asking him doesn’t work?”

“I can’t! He’d never tell me.”

Kakashi hummed. “Maybe if he doesn’t want to tell you whatever it is, you should respect that? I don’t think Iruka-sensei would appreciate this kind of thing.”

Naruto deflated, his arms dropped back to his sides. “Maybe not. But I have a good reason!”

“Which is?”

Naruto looked at him with those big blue eyes he’d inherited from his father which shone with intensity and determination. “He’s all alone!”

The proclamation stung. “What do you mean?”

“He used to go eat ramen with me all the time, right? But I eat at home with Hinata most of the time now. So he has to go all by himself, y’know!”

Kakashi softened. “I see. Well, I’m sure he has friends to keep him company. As important as you are to him, Iruka-sensei is liked by many people. He can probably find someone else to accompany him.”

“But that’s different. He’s got no one to come home to and stuff.” Naruto paused. “I mean, I don’t know if you understand but that sort of thing is important for some people y’know?”

Kakashi gave Naruto a flat look. “I understand. But what Iruka-sensei wants may not be what everyone else wants. Maybe that’s not for you to get involved in.”

“But he deserves someone!” Naruto insisted.

Kakashi didn’t really want to argue against that. It was true. “Even so-“

“He’s a good person who deserves to have someone at home to eat dinner with. And to go out with. Don’t you think he’d wanna have dates and stuff? He deserves that kind of thing, y’know!”

Iruka really did. And while Kakashi was there for him to have dinners with at home, it wasn’t regular. And dates were out of the question. Kakashi pushed those thoughts aside. He wasn’t supposed to be having them. He was supposed to be completely unaware of what went on in Iruka’s love life. “And if it’s something he wants, he will probably do something about it. He’s an adult, after all. Unless you doubt him?”

“I’m not doubting him! It’s just-” Naruto faltered. “I wanted to give him some help.”

“I don’t think stalking and betraying his trust is the way to do that. I understand you’re worried about him being lonely, but if you need some proof things are fine: There are regular psychological evaluations for Academy instructors to ensure they’re fit to teach kids. If Iruka-sensei was troubled, we’d know.” It was a bit of an exaggeration. Iruka would have had to have been deeply depressed or thoroughly withdrawn for anyone to notice anything for sure. And even then, people could hide their demons shockingly well. But Naruto needed reassurance so reassurance he was going to get.

“That’s something I guess.” Naruto seemed to mull this over. “Can’t you set up some kind of mandatory matchmaking thing to make sure?”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “Sure, if I wanted to commit a gross abuse of my power and be hated by the entire village. The romantic lives of Konoha’s shinobi are none of my business, Naruto. Perhaps if we were facing some kind of loneliness epidemic or something, I’d have to start making it my business. But as far as I can see, interpersonal relationships have been thriving since end of the war.”

Naruto pouted again. “That’s stupid.”

“No need to be so petulant about it. When you’re Hokage, you can start all the questionable initiatives you want.” Hopefully, maturity and experience would ensure that Naruto was never going to try to implement any, but it was a future problem either way.

“Oh, I have some great ideas, you know. For when I’m Hokage.”

“I don’t doubt that you do. Now, as the current Hokage, I really have to get back to work. So, consider your verbal application denied and your intents to stalk your comrades prohibited.” Kakashi turned back to his last document.

Naruto sighed, dramatically, exaggeratedly. “Fine. I’ll just keep trying my way.”

Not what Kakashi had hoped to achieve, but dissuading him from stalking Iruka or getting Ino to stalk Iruka had to count as a win in this situation. “Give Hinata-chan my best.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.”

Naruto left. Once Kakashi was by himself again he buried his face in his hands. He was getting really tired of all this. Keeping everything secret from Naruto had always made Kakashi uncomfortable. Not as much as Iruka, who was particularly aggrieved by being unable to share that side of himself and his life with one of the people who mattered the most to him. The lies bothered Kakashi mostly for Iruka’s and Naruto’s sakes more than his own. Even after years, Naruto still knew precious little about Kakashi’s personal life. Everything about Kakashi’s private life except for his face rested comfortably in the blind spot of Naruto’s interests. Aside from Iruka, of course.

Naruto wanted to know everything about Iruka. Iruka wanted to tell Naruto everything he wanted to know. And then there was Kakashi, an interference in all of it. Maybe Shikamaru had been right to worry about the longevity of it all.

Kakashi looked back at his paperwork, but the characters of different documents swam in front of his eyes so he pushed away from his desk and stood up. He turned toward the window to look outside. It was evening. Konoha was cast in the light of the setting sun. Kakashi surveyed the streets around the Tower. He watched the people, going about their business, some in groups, some by themselves.

There was a couple there, walking down the street, holding hands as they talked animatedly to each other. She was apparently telling a story that he kept laughing at. It was an endearing display of affection.

It made a pang of... something shoot through Kakashi’s heart. Envy, he realized as he continued to look at the couple. It was envy.

Kakashi hadn’t had a relationship before Iruka. But even if there had been someone, he never would have wanted to broadcast their bond to all of Konoha. He had never been interested in something like holding hands in public or attending functions as a pair or going on dates in places where everyone could see. Kakashi kept things locked behind facades and veneers.

But at some point since he’d started seeing Iruka, he’d begun to want such things. It frightened him, sometimes. Such an uncharacteristic want. Kakashi was so used to concealing himself that the idea of showing things unsettled him. He feared and craved it at the same time.

He wanted to have a photo of Iruka on his desk to look at when things were rough. He wanted to go out to dinner with Iruka and share a dessert that he was going to eat one bite of to leave the rest for Iruka to enjoy. He wanted to sit side-by-side in the grass to watch the fireworks during the summer festival and to embarrass Iruka with some cheesy line about him being the most captivating view around.

He wanted people to tell him to give Iruka their regards when he headed home. He wanted to be at the mortifying end of knowing smiles when he got some takeout ramen around dinnertime.

He wanted to walk through Konoha, the village he loved and had sworn to protect with his life, and hold the hand of the most important person in his life. And he wanted to be seen and respected and accepted in spite of it.

How terrifying it was to crave being seen. He’d hidden throughout his life in spite of his growing list of nicknames and his ever-changing reputation. He still cringed when people bowed to him and he rejected honorifics that felt too lofty to be attached to his name. Yet he wished those same people asked him about Iruka’s wellbeing.

And Iruka was dying a greater, far more painful death than he was. He craved all those same things, but without being afraid. Iruka had only ever hidden that one part of himself away. He was used to being known and being seen. He blossomed and thrived in the light. While Kakashi was more like a phantom flower, withering away when the light shone upon it. For Iruka to be in constant hiding went against his very nature.

Not to mention how grating it was for him to receive comments people didn’t dare to make to Kakashi. About his bachelor status and his availability. Or how he was subjected to gossip about Kakashi’s own single life and had to fight down every bit of his possessive streak in response.

Shikamaru had been right in a way. It would have been so much easier to just live openly and honestly.

But the risk was too great and too certain. Even the strongest, kindest, most reliable person in the village could be felled by slander and a damaged reputation. If a failed mission warranted a blade in one’s gut, what was the price of loving someone the village didn’t want you to love?

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Kakashi muttered absent-mindedly.

The door opened and someone walked in before closing it again. “You’re looking wistful, Rokudaime-sama.”

Kakashi spun around. “Iruka-sensei.”

It was Iruka. Iruka was there. He stood there in the room, radiant and beautiful and Kakashi immediately felt some of his stress dissipate. Something felt better, at ease. He felt like he had been waiting all this time without realizing it and now he had finally reached some destination. Something that had been wrong had been put back to rights. His beautiful, wonderful Iruka was there in front of him. Finally.

Kakashi cleared his throat and quickly smoothed over any disproportionate amount of surprise he might have been displaying. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“And why would you?” Iruka asked with a smile that filled Kakashi’s entire body with liquid warmth. He felt his muscles relax. Something settled within him that had been unsettled for days. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

As if Iruka ever could. The days of not seeing him were catching up to Kakashi and he had a hard time not launching himself across the desk to wrap Iruka in his arms and kiss him silly. “Not at all. I was just...” Kakashi looked down at the documents on his desk. He was at a loss. “... working on something related to taxes, I’m sure.”

Iruka quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “Well, do you have a moment in between all the, er, taxes?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well, I found something at the Academy today and it made me wonder about restrictions of certain reading material at school.” While he spoke, Iruka used subtle field signs to communicate something silently: ‘Talk’ and ‘alone’.

Kakashi hesitated. In theory, Iruka could have asked for privacy and Kakashi could have dismissed his ANBU like he’d done before. But in practice, there was no reason for Iruka, chūnin Academy instructor and Mission Desk employee, to request something like that out of the blue. Not to mention that Kakashi had already sent them away once this day, something he rarely did. If someone noticed ANBU regularly ditching their posts, it could be noticed and come off as weird. He remembered Shikamaru’s words and wondered if he was being too paranoid. But a certain level of paranoia had allowed him to live past the age of 30 in a line of work with an extremely high mortality rate.

“Maa, a book ban? That seems more than a little strange, sensei,” Kakashi pointed out. He signed: ‘Lie’.

Iruka appeared confused for a moment before he seemed to understand. He braced himself. “Well, it was a very specific book,” he said, shifting his tone into something more serious and determined.

“Is that so?” Kakashi asked and sat back down behind his desk. “Alright then, tell me about it.”

“It’s a sensitive topic,” Iruka hedged.

Kakashi chuckled. “I assure you I have the clearance to discuss whatever goes on in the Academy, sensei. Unless you don’t trust me?”

“I do,” Iruka said slowly and with false hesitation. “But it concerns one of my students and-“ Iruka feigned some struggle with continuing to speak. “And I might be alleging some serious things that I’d rather have your input on first. And you know how information tends to spread.”

“Well there’s no one here but us.”

Iruka grimaced. “That’s not quite true.”

“Ah. You don’t trust my guards,” Kakashi stated.

Iruka flushed indignantly. “That’s not true! I- Well, any of them could be related to my students and I wouldn’t know, would I? I’m not going to cause my students trouble like that if I can help it.”

Kakashi looked at him and let a tense moment pass before sighing like someone who was reluctant to put up with a particularly annoying issue but willing to try. “Fine. If it’ll put you at ease. Everyone! Take a walk!”

And once more, the ANBU scattered.

As they did, Iruka was looking at nothing, seeming intensely focused. Kakashi knew that look. Iruka was using his strange and rare echolocation-adjacent ability to make sure that everyone was truly out of the way. After a moment, he nodded to himself and then immediately narrowed his eyes at Kakashi while crossing his arms. “Did you have to push back so hard? It makes me look like I’m crazy or paranoid.”

Kakashi reached into his drawer to pull out another soundproofing tag. At this rate, he was going to have to stock up. “I had to try and look reluctant. I sent them away earlier for a private conversation with Shikamaru. Twice in a day is rare.” Kakashi shrugged. He handed the tag to Iruka, who put it up on the door and activated it the same way Shikamaru had done. “I can’t seem too eager to talk to you alone,” Kakashi added.

“I suppose...” Iruka turned back around to him.

“Anyway.” Kakashi met Iruka’s eyes. He smiled. “Hello.”

Iruka’s irritation visibly ebbed away at once. His expression became soft and sweet and he smiled back. “Hello.”

It was nice. Letting the roles drop. Kakashi wished he could have celebrated the reunion by touching Iruka the way he yearned to, but the door was unlocked and there was a row of windows just behind him. “This is nearly unprecedented, you coming here like this,” Kakashi commented. “Am I in for a scolding for neglecting my responsibilities to you?”

“Is that supposed to be a double entendre or are you seriously worried?”

“A bit of both,” Kakashi admitted.

Iruka huffed out a laugh. “Well, I can’t really ‘scold’ you here, now can I, Rokudaime-sama?” Iruka said with a smirk. Which dropped away immediately. “And I’m not here to scold you otherwise. You haven’t neglected me. You’re busy, I know that. I just- I wanted to check in with you.”

“Check in?”

“Yeah. Last time we saw each other was after the whole Kumi-incident and we never really talked about it. And then Shikamaru-kun said something to me and I figured he meant that you were stressed and I just- I got worried.”

Kakashi looked at Iruka with honest surprise. “We did talk about the Kumi-incident.”

“What, when I got mad at you for being an understanding and kind person and you comforted me for it? That barely counts.”

“It’s enough. There’s nothing more to say, really. You had a good time with someone. You didn’t do anything that could be seen as a betrayal. You felt guilty, which you shouldn’t have.”

“And then I got mad at you.”

“It happens.” Kakashi said as he waved his hand dismissively. “You apologized. I accepted.”

Iruka sighed. He wasn’t meeting Kakashi’s eyes, gaze focused on nothing in particular. It was easy to see that he was still hung up on something. He looked back at Kakashi. “So what have you been up to?”

The change of topic was so abrupt it nearly startled Kakashi. “Many things.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Yes, I figured that much. Anything in particular?”

“Planning safety infrastructure, making Shikamaru-kun handle the delegation,” Kakashi listed. Iruka was fishing for something but Kakashi didn’t know what. Had he learned about the plans of the elders? No, then he wouldn’t have been this calm. Kakashi wasn’t going to bring it up in any case. It only would have worried Iruka unduly and this was hardly the time and place for it, anyway. “Lots of things. It’s been pretty busy here,” he concluded.

“Ah,” Iruka said. “Do you think it’s going to get... less busy anytime soon?”

Kakashi looked at his desk. “Not tonight. But maybe tomorrow.”

Iruka nodded with a thin smile. “Alright.”

Something lingered in the air. A discomfort that they shared. Perhaps about spending days apart, but more than that, Kakashi felt the echoes of the Kumi-incident resonating in the room. That this was the extent of Iruka’s and his interactions outside of Iruka’s home. An honest, short conversation, but no closeness. Iruka was looking at the floor, shifting his weight as if to deal with the discomfort somehow.

“I keep thinking,” Iruka spoke up. He paused. “I keep thinking about that evening. And about other stupid things. Going out with you.”

Kakashi frowned, his heart ached. “That’s not stupid.”

“Unrealistic, then.”

“Unrealistic,” Kakashi repeated, considering.

He considered much that moment. How this was getting harder than they both had probably anticipated it to be. They had both expected that Kakashi’s tenure as Hokage wasn’t going to be as stressful as the ones of those who had preceded him. He was in the fortunate position of ruling during an era of peace so far. But more free time had been nothing more than a hopeful wish. The reality was very different. Though he wasn’t constantly plotting how to deal with enemy nations, there were other challenges – some of them unprecedented and completely new – that he had to master.

It hadn’t always been this bad. The secrecy.

Before the hat and the robe playing interference in their relationship, Iruka and him had gone out to places together. Sure, he had already been (in)famous back then and drawn some kind of attention, but if people had seen him hanging around Iruka in a public place, they hadn’t been as interested as they were now. Now, the Hokage, leader of the village, spending his precious, precious free time with a chūnin Academy instructor – instead of with one of his known friends – was going raise eyebrows.

But it became clearer and clearer that this wasn’t working the way it was supposed to. The honorable thing would have been to encourage Iruka to find someone who could give him quality time and dates and romance. But Kakashi wasn’t that honorable a man. And he knew Iruka too well. A suggestion like that was going to earn him a glare and a scolding and nothing else. Iruka hadn’t begun dubbing such attempts as ‘Kakashi’s self-sacrificial bullshit’ for no reason.

Once again, Kakashi thought of Shikamaru’s assessment. He thought about his various attempts at finding anyone trailing or investigating him – all of them coming up empty. He thought about the sunflower wilting away in a dark room.

“Maybe it isn’t,” Kakashi announced into the painful silence that had formed between them.

“Huh?”

“We’ll do it,” Kakashi decided. “We’ll go out.”

Iruka stared at him. “If this is a joke, it’s an awful one.”

“It’s not.”

“You’re serious.”

“I am. We will go out. There are some caveats. We can’t do what Kumi-san and you did, at least not as easily. But we can do something,” Kakashi explained.

“Kakashi. I appreciate you wanting to do something for me-“

“-for us-”

“Right. For us. I appreciate it but you really don’t have to. I understand the risks. I know what will happen it someone sees us together.”

“So they won’t,” Kakashi said. “Are you opposed to using henge? Or some basic disguises?”

“Disguises?”

“It’s okay if you are. We have other options. But we might have to leave Konoha if you want to forego disguises. I’m way too much of a beacon of attention these days. Unless you really want to be among other people. Then it might have to be disguises, because I can’t maintain a shadow clone reliably long enough to travel to the next village that has anything in terms of nightlife. Or, maybe I could, but that’s a bit risky, even for me,” Kakashi rambled.

“A shadow clone?”

“To ensure that no one will know I’ve gone missing? Nothing new. Anyway. Thoughts?”

Iruka stared at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness – an expression that had taken Kakashi a while to fully understand. Now it was one of his favorites. “I’m not categorically opposed to using henge, but I would much prefer to actually see you if it’s a date. I’m not as good as you are with physical disguises, but I suppose you could help me out, but again: I’d like to see you. And with either henge or disguises we’d have to be mindful of sensors. Which seems risky. I wouldn’t want to stray too far from Konoha. And I suppose I don’t need to be among others for now. Especially if it means traveling to another village just for that. If nothing else, it would be terribly irresponsible for you to be so far away without guards or anyone knowing.”

Kakashi smiled. “Then I have an idea I think you might like.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Are you free sometime this week?”

Iruka gave him a teasing smile. “I think I can find some time.”

“Very generous, sensei. In that case, I’ll take you out. Probably around eight. Don’t know which day yet.”

“Eight? That sounds awfully early for the Hokage.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll give my clone something to do that isn’t lying in the Hokage Residence and staring at the ceiling. He’ll love it.” Kakashi searched Iruka’s eyes. “So. Will you go out with me?”

Iruka flushed, but his smile was soft and tender. “Of course I will.”

“Good. Then that’s settled.”

Iruka shook his head. “It still seems wildly irresponsible.”

Kakashi shrugged. “I have it on good authority that we can afford some of that.”

“Really now? Well, I suppose I have to trust your intel.” Iruka sighed. “I really don’t want to go but I have a Mission Desk shift to get to.”

“Ah, before you do. There is something you should know.”

Iruka looked at him expectantly.

“Naruto was here today. He wanted to hire someone to look into your love life. As a mission.”

Iruka blinked. “He what?!”

“Naturally, I said ‘no’.”

“Naturally!” Iruka agreed, still angry. “That boy…”

“I think he meant well. In his own way.”

Iruka sighed. “Of course he did. But to resort to that… I thought I had taught him better.”

“You taught him to look out for those around him and to care for them. You taught him what love and kindness is. It’s only natural he’s trying to make sure that you have an abundance of it in your life.”

Iruka scratched his scar. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“I know this situation isn’t sustainable. With you and Naruto like this. I’m trying to think of something that will make it easier.”

Iruka shook his head. “It’s not your job to protect my relationship with Naruto. Besides, I actually talked to him I- Ugh. Apparently, I failed.”

“You might have to give it another shot.” Kakashi smiled. “Your shift starts in half a minute, by the way.”

“Huh? Damn it! I’ve never been- bye!”

And with that, Iruka bolted out the door. Kakashi chuckled as he got up and went to remove the soundproofing tag. He crumpled it up and threw it away.

He got back to his desk and allowed himself one more wistful glance out the window. A date. Finally. Now all Kakashi had to do was make it a good one.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

When they returned to Konoha, Kakashi was admitted to the hospital. His protests and claims that he’d recovered enough in the safehouse were weaker than they usually would have been and a single stern look from Iruka made him fall silent altogether.

He delivered his mission report from his hospital bed to Tsunade who frowned at the unfortunate turn of events he described and pondered giving Iruka a bonus in pay for dragging Kakashi back home, suggesting that it must have been ‘a pain in the ass’. Kakashi didn’t object. She also told him to rest and remembering Iruka’s care for him, he decided to listen to her instructions for once. Iruka visited him multiple times during his ensuing stay. Each time he did, Kakashi saw relief wash over his face when he looked at him. As if he had expected Kakashi to disappear again.

It made his heart clench with guilt.

Kakashi was released from the hospital after less than a week and given a few more days of medical leave. Though the heaviness in his body brought his bed to his mind as he left the building, the first thing he did was go to the Academy and wait for Iruka outside to intercept him after class. Iruka seemed happy to see him and said he was relieved to see Kakashi back on his feet. He accepted Kakashi’s offer of thank-you-ramen with a beaming smile.

And just like that, their dinners and meet-ups were back on track.

The trepidation of being friends with Iruka and all the implications of it still haunted Kakashi regularly. But whenever such thoughts came to his mind and brought the restless desire to disappear once more, he remembered Iruka’s expression and the words he had spoken in the haven of the safehouse.

Iruka’s risk was not Kakashi’s choice to make. He could respect that.

Things went back to they way they had been before Kakashi’s idiotic decision. Except in the ways they didn’t.

Kakashi couldn’t quite put his finger on what had changed, but there was something that had undoubtedly shifted in their dynamic. They still hung out and traded the same kinds of stories as they had in the past, but something wasn’t the same. Kakashi wondered whether Iruka felt it as well or whether it was something only Kakashi was experiencing. Perhaps something brought on by his life being saved, by Iruka’s earnest words or by Kakashi’s own brittle, mortifying honesty.

Or perhaps it was just Kakashi’s social ineptitude making him perceive something that wasn’t really there. He’d failed to pick up on social cues in the past, it wouldn’t have been a stretch to assume he was misinterpreting something again.

But then there was that time when Iruka and him sat on a park bench to eat some storebought onigiri, braving the cold autumn winds to enjoy the fresh air, and Iruka looked at him in a way that Kakashi couldn’t begin to put into words. It wasn’t quite a stare, Kakashi was familiar with those. But it was lingering. Considering, maybe. And there was something that came with that look, something unsaid that Kakashi didn’t really understand, either.

It made him want to gaze back, lingering as well.

Whatever it was, this new, strange development, it felt like a good thing. Like maybe their friendship had grown. Kakashi wanted more of it. At the same time, it felt like he was playing with fire in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend. Kakashi didn’t know what to do with that, except to keep meeting up and not run away again. So whenever he returned from missions and he had time, he made sure to go see Iruka. And when he headed out on a longer assignment and he could afford to, he made sure to say goodbye before he left the village.

He was supposed to be receiving such an assignment a few weeks after his stay in the safehouse. But when he made an appearance in Godaime’s office, she told him that the mission was cancelled because the situation had changed and she needed time to revise some plans. She must have picked up on his disappointment at being denied a field mission, so she told him she’d handed some A-ranks to the Mission Desk and to pick one up there.

So Kakashi made his way over to the Mission Assignment Room. Only to realize that his mission apparently hadn’t been the only one to get shifted around. It was busy. Far busier than usual. Repelled by the crowd, Kakashi considered trying again later and bothering whoever closed up the Desk for the night to give him something last minute. But then he noticed that Iruka was on shift. And Kakashi very much liked getting mission scrolls when Iruka was on shift. So he let Iruka’s magnetism pull him into his line. With the additional crowd came people invading his personal space and an elevated amount of noise. Someone looked Kakashi’s way. Additional safety measures were in order. He quickly got out his book to ensure no one even considered trying to talk to him.

He tried to get engrossed in the story, but only made it through one particularly enticing page of flirting when something else drew his attention. Someone was speaking louder than everyone else. Kakashi looked up to see the tense shoulders of the shinobi currently trying to hand in a report to Iruka. There were still a few people between him and Kakashi, but Kakashi could still see how the man radiated anger.

“I said I can’t accept this,” Iruka said as he held up the mission report scroll. “It’s missing key information, it’s half-illegible and it’s in violation of at least three guidelines.”

The shinobi scoffed. He was a tall and broad-shouldered man that Kakashi vaguely recognized as a jōnin whose name he either didn’t know or had forgotten at some point. “It’s not my problem if you can’t read,” he replied. Then, a little quieter but still far too loud to be anything but intentional, he muttered, “Stupid desk chūnin.”

The insult drew the attention of several other people in Iruka’s line who all started to observe the proceedings. Iruka glared at the man in front of him. “I assure you, I can read just fine. What should be questioned is your ability to write.”

“What did you say?” the jōnin demanded sharply and Kakashi felt his own hackles rise. Iruka was clearly trying to keep some kind of composure even though the man in front of him obviously didn’t deserve it. At this point, everyone in the room had an eye on the situation. “I outrank you. You should show me the respect a jōnin deserves.”

Iruka didn’t rise to meet his anger. “I’m just trying to do my job, jōnin-san. Like I said, this is illegible. A report needs to be legible so that it can be filed by us stupid desk chūnin. If you don’t want to write another one, that’s your choice. I will just have to mark your report as missing and the mission therefore as incomplete.”

The jōnin slammed his fist onto the table. Kakashi supressed the urge to leap forward and intervene. “You listen here, I never leave a mission incomplete! If you dare-”

Iruka stood up abruptly, cutting him off and putting himself at eye level with him. “Filling out a mission report is part of the mission,” Iruka explained with simmering anger. “You failed to do that. Therefore you have failed to complete your mission. Even my pre-genin understand that.”

“You don’t have the authority to decide that.”

“You want authority? Fine. I can go fetch Godaime to explain this very basic concept to you, but I don’t think she’ll appreciate it.”

The jōnin stood there, tense as a bowstring, and Kakashi thought he could hear him grinding his teeth. But instead of yelling any more, he yanked the scroll from Iruka’s grasp and bit out a harsh “fine” before turning to retreat.

Iruka waited until the aggressor was turned away before he sat back down, took a breath and addressed the next person in line. The retreating jōnin muttered curse words about ‘insubordination’ and ‘nerve’ as he went. It seemed like he was reluctantly accepting his defeat. But then he stopped in his tracks. He stood up straight. And he turned back to the desk. “You know,” he started, speaking loudly so that his voice carried across the room and over the ambient chatter, “it’s no wonder you quit after making chūnin.” Iruka froze. “Hiding behind threats of Godaime like she’s your mommy. How pathetic. What would you even do in a battle? Run to her and cry about it? I can’t believe they gave you that vest, let alone let you teach kids.”

The whole room fell deathly silent. Waiting with bated breath. Normally, Iruka had no qualms about telling someone off in this situation. But maybe not this time. The words had been particularly acidic, the insults insidious, in a way. They made Kakashi want to lunge at the man. To tear him apart and show him what a miserable creature he actually was.

Instead of flaring his infamous temper, Iruka remained quiet. He didn’t even look at the jōnin, just remained frozen in place for a few moments. Then he looked back up at the person in front of his desk, expression clearly strained but as neutral as he could make it and said, “I believe you were handing me your report, Saisu-san?”

And the room released its held breath.

The jōnin glared at Iruka who continued to ignore him as everyone settled back into gear. Kakashi watched as the jōnin turned to retreat once more and he got the distinct sense that he’d gotten off too easy for his terrible offense. So he waited until the jōnin was about to pass him by and stuck his leg out a bit. Just enough to make him stumble a little. A minor embarrassment.

But when the offender actually came within reach, something else overrode that thought. Something fiercely protective and equally loyal. Kakashi was casually looking at his book as he stuck out his leg and took a full swipe at the jōnin’s legs. The jōnin yelped as he stumbled and while he was pitching forward, off-balance but not yet fallen, Kakashi quickly brought his leg up above the man and drove his heel downward into his back, slamming him into the floor with a loud crack. The jōnin choked. The room fell silent again.

Kakashi’s eyes never left the page as he pulled his leg back under himself. He felt everyone staring. In that heavy pause, Kakashi glanced at the jōnin who was staring up at him with shock.

“Oops,” Kakashi said and looked back at his book. “Clumsy of me.”

“You attacked me,” the jōnin said in disbelief and affront as he scrambled to get back on his feet.

“Maa, did I?” Kakashi glanced at him, regarding him with all the respect one usually had for a cockroach. “No, it must have been an accident,” Kakashi pondered as he looked back at the novel. “But you can run to Godaime and cry about it, of course. If you want.”

The jōnin gaped at him.

“Actually,” Kakashi continued, considering. “I might just call her myself. There are some people who love to treat others like scum because of something like rank. Don’t you just hate people like that?” He glowered at the man.

The jōnin paled. “Nevermind- it’s- nevermind.”

Kakashi hummed in acknowledgment. The jōnin looked back at Iruka, who was staring at the scene with wide eyes. Then the lowlife finally made his escape.

Kakashi sighed. He had lost his place on the page. When he realized that the room was still in standstill, he asked, “Is there another hold up? I’d like to get my mission scroll sometime today.”

That startled the onlookers back into action. He could tell people were still giving him more strange looks than usual. His actions were most likely going to be gossip fodder for the next few days. Kakashi found that he didn’t care.

Iruka, apparently, did. At least if the closed-off expression he had for Kakashi once it was his turn was any indication. This was only further confirmed by the way he gritted out “Rooftop. After my shift.” as he handed Kakashi his A-rank scroll.

Kakashi just gave him a nod as he accepted the brief. Knots formed in his chest immediately. Between his urge to defend and his sense of justice, he hadn’t considered Iruka’s displeasure to be a possible outcome. He hadn’t considered much at all, if he was honest.

But he was going to endure whatever Iruka had in store for him. So he left Hokage Tower and immediately headed to the rooftop he was tempted to call ‘theirs’. They had spent time on it together on more than one occasion in the past. It was on top of a scarcely used storage facility not too far from the Hokage Tower, but far enough that barely any people frequented this area. A good spot to sit and chat or just sit and take in one of the more quiet sides of Konoha.

It was a bit cold to be waiting outside for a prolonged time, but Kakashi did so anyway. He wasn’t going to risk being late or missing Iruka. Not when he needed to know what exactly Iruka’s intense expression had meant.

He ended up waiting a little over half an hour before Iruka jumped up onto the roof. His hands were balled into fists, his shoulders were drawn up and he stalked over to Kakashi with determined and angry steps as rage glinted in his eyes. “What were you thinking?!”

Kakashi looked up at him as he tried to figure out what to say. Having Iruka’s anger directed at him was like facing a tornado head-on. “Hello, Iruka-sensei,” he greeted calmly.

“Answer my question!”

Kakashi wanted to. Clearly, what he had done hadn’t been entirely right and Iruka deserved to know the thoughts behind his actions. But it wasn’t that easy. The truth was that he hadn’t really been thinking. He’d seen someone insult Iruka in a particularly nasty way and some sort of protective instinct had kicked in and then he hadn’t had much of a say in the matter, he’d just acted. But Iruka probably wouldn’t have accepted that explanation. “I was thinking that he was an asshole.”

Iruka glared at him. Not a satisfactory answer. “Of course he was! But that’s no reason for you to- to do that.”

Kakashi begged to differ. That guy having been an asshole had been plenty of reason for him to do that.

“Do you think I can’t defend myself?” Iruka asked. “That I’m just some weak, little chūnin in need of rescue from a big, strong jōnin?!”

Kakashi tilted his head in confusion. Rank had never even occurred to him. “Of course not.”

“Because I’m not!” Iruka continued, ignoring Kakashi’s response. “I’m not helpless, I chose not to talk to him any further! I was done!”

“I know-”

“And in case you forgot, I saved your ass a few weeks ago! Not just your ass, your entire life! You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me!”

“And I’m very grateful-”

“So don’t treat me like I’m some worthless, pathetic-”

“Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi said, calmly but loudly, finally stopping Iruka’s tirade. “I don’t think you’re helpless. Or worthless or pathetic. I think you were put into an awful situation by someone who never should have made jōnin. I think you handled it with grace and professionalism. But I didn’t have to. And, frankly, he just pissed me off.”

Iruka eyed him warily.

“Maa, you’re making me worry. I know I’m not the best at friendships, but have I been that bad that you think I don’t respect you?” Kakashi averted his eyes.

Iruka hesitated. His shoulders dropped. “No. No, I- I know you do.”

Kakashi looked back up at him and smiled. “Then why would I think you need me to rescue you?”

A moment of silence passed and Iruka shook his head and sighed. “You’re right. Sorry. I know you better than that.”

“It’s alright.” Kakashi thought about the incident a little more. He thought about how it must have looked from Iruka’s perspective. “I get how I came across.”

“You came across terrifying,” Iruka stated. He finally came over to sit down beside Kakashi.

“Good.”

“I just wish you hadn’t drawn that much attention. Even if you don’t think I need protection, there’s others who do. And they’ll just feel justified in their beliefs,” Iruka explained.

“Ah,” Kakashi said. He hadn’t thought of that. “Sorry. I didn’t-” He hesitated. “I was careless.”

Iruka hummed. “Yeah. A little.” A moment went by and Iruka nudged Kakashi’s shoulder wish his own. “But thanks for the sentiment.”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka to see him smile. He felt something in his chest heat up at the sight. He looked away again. They both gazed out over Konoha, as the sun readily made its way to the horizon.

“I probably shouldn’t have brought up Godaime,” Iruka said eventually. “He had a point. I was trying to get him to back off by mentioning her.”

Kakashi shrugged. “You were following standard procedure. When there’s a conflict between comrades that can’t be deescalated on its own, a superior officer needs to be involved. And since he was a jōnin, as he insisted we all be very aware of, that means getting either the jōnin commander or the Hokage. And I doubt Shikaku-san would have taken kindly to being called in for something like that, either.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re right. But still, it makes it seem like I need someone else to step in.”

“Does it? I don’t think so. We have procedures for a reason. Honestly, you handled the situation better than most would have done. Better than I would have. Clearly.”

Iruka chuckled. “Maybe.”

Another moment passed in companionable silence. But the whole thing didn’t leave Kakashi alone. “Do you feel bad about being a chūnin?”

“Do you think I should?” Iruka challenged.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. Because I don’t. The vast majority of shinobi are chūnin and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m proud of my accomplishments. And my job. Being an instructor is what I’m good at and I chose that for myself,” Iruka explained. “I know some jōnin think everyone should try to reach their level. Or that those who don’t are somehow lesser. But honestly, if all someone cares about is rank, that’s far more pathetic than any chūnin could ever be.”

Kakashi nodded.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying when they treat me like crap. Or that I’m just fine being insulted and belittled and it just- it sucks!” Iruka pulled his knees close to his chest. “It doesn’t hit me the way they want it to. But I could really do without it.”

“Guess you can’t do much about it, huh,” Kakashi ventured.

“Not really. I swear, some of them just use me to let off some steam,” Iruka grumbled. He rested his chin on top of his knees. After a pregnant pause he continued to speak. “Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes their words haunt me a little. And then I do wonder whether I should have done something else.”

“Something else?”

“With my life. My profession.”

“Just to get the approval of someone like that?” Kakashi asked.

“Sage, no. Just... in general. I don’t know. People used to say that I had the potential to make jōnin. Both of my parents were jōnin. Sometimes, I wonder whether I’m wasting something. And whether my parents would be disappointed if they knew.”

Kakashi thought about that for a moment. He’d had several thoughts about what Sakumo might have thought of him. As Minato’s protégé, during his time in ANBU, as a jōnin-sensei, ... he knew there were times when his father would have been ashamed of him. But unlike Iruka, Kakashi had done all the things that had been expected of him. Gone to the places he had been theorized and predicted to go to. Minus the sensei-thing, maybe. That had caught everyone by surprise. “I can’t speak for your parents, obviously,” Kakashi said. “But I don’t think potential works like that.”

He wasn’t looking at Iruka, but he could tell Iruka was observing him.

“I’ve been a shinobi almost all my life. People said a lot about my potential, too, when I was a kid. Missions, killing, I’ve always been good at that. It’s how I can be useful to Konoha. It’s part of my shinobi way.”

“Yes, we all know how great Hatake Kakashi is at being a shinobi,” Iruka griped.

“One kind of shinobi,” Kakashi said as he held up one finger and turned to look at Iruka. “The kind they send out to kill someone who needs to be killed. The kind who can do that because that’s what he’s good at, maybe all that he’s good at. That’s what my potential is.” He put his hand down. “But you’re different. You’re not a killer. You can’t turn off that part of yourself that values and cares about life. Forcing yourself into that wouldn’t be fulfilling your potential. Even if its something you’d have the skill to achieve.”

Iruka frowned. He looked down at the roof.

“That’s not an insult. If anything, it’s a compliment. You can see and feel something I can’t. You have too much humanity in you to become like me. That’s a good thing. That’s your potential.” Kakashi looked back out at Konoha, gaze sweeping over rooftops. “I guess everyone has potential for different things in different ways and though some people have the potential for my kind of career, that doesn’t mean fulfilling that is the best outcome. A village can’t consist of people like me. It needs people like you to fill it with humanity. If there’s no humanity, there’s nothing to protect. Without teachers, there’s not even a future worth protecting. And there’s no one to protect anything in the future, either.”

Iruka was staring at him again.

“Field shinobi, jōnin, ANBU – we might be safeguarding the Will of Fire. But you and others like you ensure its existence in the first place. Without people like you, people like me don’t have anything that’s worth fighting for. And all that potential is for nothing.”

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka whispered. And when Kakashi turned to look at him, his eyes were wide and dark, his cheeks were a little red and his lips were slightly parted as he stared and oh dear, Kakashi wanted to open his Sharingan to make sure he was never going to forget this sight. But even more than that, a deep craving overcame him. A previously unknown intense desire to lean in, to touch that sweet, open face and-

He turned away. “That’s what I think, anyway.”

Iruka lingered, but then turned away himself. He cleared his throat. “It’s a kind thought.”

Kakashi heard blood rushing in his ears and felt his heart pounding in his chest in a way that it hadn’t just a moment ago. “It’s an honest thought,” he said trying to fight off the sensation of feeling raw and vulnerable. “Besides, if everyone became a jōnin the whole system would be pointless, don’t you think?”

Iruka paused, then he chuckled. “I think the idea is that not everyone can become a jōnin.”

Kakashi scoffed. “I think that asshole thoroughly disproved that.”

That made Iruka laugh fully and Kakashi felt like he’d been given a medal of honor. He greedily listened to the sound until it disappeared.

“Seriously, though,” Kakashi said into the following silence, “you should probably report him. That was more than a shitty mission report or someone complaining about ‘insubordination’.”

“That kind of thing usually doesn’t go over too well. People will think that I can’t take some verbal sparring if I actually go and report something like this.”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka again. “That wasn’t ‘verbal sparring’, he was insulting you because his work was garbage and he couldn’t handle you pointing it out to him.”

“I know.”

“If you hand in a shitty report, you have to let the desk chūnin chew you out for it. That’s the rule.”

“Oh, you’re well acquainted with that one, aren’t you?” Iruka teased.

“You should know, sensei. No one chews me out for my terrible reports quite like you do.”

Iruka blushed again and Kakashi felt his own cheeks heat up. That had come out quite a lot more suggestive than he had intended. But before he had a chance to worry about it, Iruka kept talking. “Almost sounds like you’re seeking out my scolding on purpose, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi paused. “You do turn an exceptional shade of red when you complain about section 4-C being empty, sensei. It’s quite the sight.”

Iruka raised his eyebrows and Kakashi promptly wanted to throw himself off the roof. Why had he said that? But Iruka didn’t look terrified or appalled or disgusted. He just looked surprised. And then, like it was nothing, he said, “I assure you, there’s much more appealing shades of red I can turn.”

Kakashi swallowed. His eye was wide and he was drinking in the sight of Iruka as his mind scrambled to find a response. “Is that so.”

Iruka’s face became even redder. He suddenly broke eye contact, trying look at anything that wasn’t Kakashi. “Anyway,” he said, suddenly getting up. “You’re right, you know. Actually, I probably should go talk to someone.”

“Huh?”

“About what happened, you know. That really was over the line and someone ought to do something and if not me, then who, right?” Iruka babbled and began making his way over to the edge of the roof.

Kakashi stood up. “Iruka-sensei-”

“I could set up a seminar or something on proper Mission Desk etiquette,” Iruka suggested to himself, looking flustered and restless.

“Wait-“

“Then again, common sense should suffice. So maybe there’s no need for me to do anything at all. Oh well, I guess we’ll see. I’ll figure it out for sure. Bye!” And with that, he leapt off the roof.

Kakashi looked after him, feeling completely dumbfounded.

What the hell had just happened?

-

Iruka jumped off the roof and hurried down the street before slipping into an alleyway where he pressed his back against the cold wall. He sucked in deep breaths and willed the searing heat in his cheeks to die down as his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He buried his face in his hands.

What the hell had he done?

Well, that was a stupid question to ask himself. He knew what he had done. He had blatantly flirted with his skittish, hesitant and almost reclusive friend. The friend whom he’d had to drag back into their friendship just a few weeks ago because he was apparently deathly afraid of being close to people. Yes, what Iruka had done was exactly the kind of thing that was going to make their friendship go smoothly and not at all make anything terrible and weird.

He wished he had just kept his stupid mouth shut.

Maybe he could play it off as a joke. Or as Kakashi having misunderstood him. Or maybe fate was merciful for once and Kakashi had been so blindsided by Iruka’s sudden and completely uncalled-for flirting that he hadn’t even processed it.

But hadn’t Kakashi flirted first? An ‘exceptional shade of red’ he had said. Exceptional. That could be good. Or neutral. Or bad. Kakashi’s voice hadn’t given anything away.  But then, it rarely did.

Honestly, he had probably just been teasing Iruka, because people loved teasing Iruka about his ‘legendary temper’ and it was something Iruka was willing to put up with most of the time. So then, Kakashi had teased him about something ordinary and common and then Iruka had decided to go all in and flirt in response. Not good. Not good at all.

Or was it?

No, it wasn’t. This was bad. Really bad.

Iruka started to pace up and down the alley as he went over the conversation again. Maybe he’d simply lost his mind up there on the roof.

Because there had been a moment when he had thought that they were going to kiss. Which sounded insane in retrospect. But in that moment, he had thought that how close they had been and the way Kakashi had looked at him had been the lead up to a kiss. And he had also thought that Kakashi had felt that too, that there had been some kind of tension or connection in that moment that had been pulling them closer toward each other.

But Kakashi had turned away, either not aware of that moment at all or not willing to entertain it any further. And then he had said something and Iruka had mistaken it as flirting and flirted back. Flirted back hard, honestly. And Kakashi had seemed so surprised and- oh Sage, Iruka was beyond mortified.

The ground couldn’t swallow him up soon enough.

He hadn’t meant to flirt. At least he thought he hadn’t. Words had come out of his mouth without requesting permission from the logical part of his brain and suddenly he had been flirting with Kakashi. His platonic probably-not-into-men good friend Kakashi. His friend Kakashi, who was attractive and fun to be around and smart and attractive.

But what if Kakashi had been flirting before that? What kind of friend commented on how red another friend was getting, after all? Honestly, probably plenty. Kakashi had been teasing him in a very straight, not at all interested way and then Iruka- well- Iruka had fucked up.

He had shown his hand. Without really knowing what his hand had been.

Sure, he’d thought Kakashi was hot for forever, but he’d thought it in a polite, distant way. Even once they had become friends, Iruka had managed to keep the part of him that thought Kakashi was attractive and the part of him that thought Kakashi was a good friend separate.

But then the safehouse had happened and for the first time, Kakashi had been so open and vulnerable and earnest and it had changed something in the way Iruka saw him. It had made them closer, somehow. Had invited something in that hadn’t been there before.

And apparently, that something made Iruka stupid.

Really stupid.

Stupid enough to say really stupid things. And now, Iruka had no idea where that left them. He had fled the scene like a coward. Which made him feel a bit like a hypocrite since he had given Kakashi a lot of crap for abandoning him not too long ago.

Iruka took a deep breath, trying to settle his anxiety.

He had basically admitted to Kakashi that he liked men and that he liked him in one fell swoop. Kakashi and him had never discussed romance or relationships or anything of the sort. It always felt like dangerous territory for Iruka to tread for the first time with someone. He couldn’t know what Kakashi thought. Sure, there had been a lot of rumors about Kakashi’s sexual escapades before, but none of them seemed really legitimate and none of them hinted at him being interested in men.

Iruka stopped his pacing.

Whatever Kakashi thought, whatever the outcome. It was done. There was no coming back from this. Either Iruka had completely bombed their relationship for good or he hadn’t. Iruka sincerely doubted that Kakashi was the type of person to go and spread this information either way. So all that was really up in the air was where they stood. And what he thought of him.

Iruka had to salvage what he could.

Knowing that there was only one way to do that, he returned to the roof. Only to find it empty. He had figured it was going to be, he hadn’t expected Kakashi to stick around and wait for him after the exit he had made. He was just going to have to wait until next time they saw each other. Which was hopefully soon. And hopefully at all.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if he’d managed to scare off Kakashi again.

With nothing else to do, he leapt back off the roof and started making his way to Ichiraku’s for some comfort-ramen.

He hoped desperately that he hadn’t just pushed Kakashi into another round of avoiding him.

He hoped Kakashi and him were still friends.

Chapter Text

Present day

The next day began bright and early.

The sun was up, drawing planes of morning light all over Konoha. Kakashi, Shikamaru and the delegation from Lightning Country were on their way to the city gates. They drew a lot of attention from the people around them. But for once, it wasn’t aimed at Kakashi, even though he was clad in the hat and robe.

Most of appraising gazes and not-so-subtle stares were directed at Kumi, who seemed to take it all in stride. Her poise and attitude spoke of someone who was not only used to having eyes on her but also felt comfortable being the center of attention. Meanwhile, Kakashi relished the spot in her shadow. He wondered whether he could hire someone to walk beside him at all times to take away from his own unwanted prominence. People still bowed to him – he was still in charge, after all – but they did it absentmindedly and less reverently.

It suited Kakashi just fine, especially that morning, when he found his own thoughts straying from the task at hand. As they progressed through Konoha, his gaze kept getting caught on different stores and establishments, sparking inspiration wherever he looked. He had already planned the broad strokes of his date with Iruka, but still new things occurred to him. After such a long time of being confined to an apartment, the reality of actually going out sparked an avalanche of ideas. Kakashi should have expected as much, really. Since he wanted to experience everything life had to offer with Iruka.

The gate finally came into view and Kakashi sternly told himself to postpone further date-related contemplation to a later point in time. He glanced at Shigeru, who was walking right beside him, and spoke up.

“I apologize again that I haven’t been able to attend the meetings personally,” Kakashi said. “It’s a very busy time for Konoha, I’m afraid.”

Shigeru laughed in a friendly, but still carefully polite manner. It took a person seasoned in the arts of diplomacy to pull off that particular laugh without it coming across as terribly fake. “No need for apologies. We would hardly expect the Hokage to clear his busy schedule for a matter like this. Raikage-sama didn’t see it fit to attend either, after all. And besides, your aide there is superb. You have to make sure to keep that one around.”

Kumi and the engineer nodded in approval at the assessment.

Kakashi glanced over his shoulder to see Shikamaru trying not to cringe at the praise. He bit back a smirk as he turned to Shigeru. “He is one of our brightest,” he agreed, knowing full well that heaping on additional compliments was only going to make Shikamaru more uncomfortable. But it was true and Kakashi wasn’t going to lie about the talents of one of his most skilled shinobi.

“You’ve got a lot of very capable ninja in general,” Kumi pointed out with a smile. “And a very impressive city.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“And there’s also some good teachers from what I hear,” she added.

Kakashi’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he kept his expression and body language completely neutral. He carefully raised a single eyebrow in polite interest. “I wasn’t aware you were interested in our education system, Kumi-san. Are you training a genin team yourself?”

Kumi shook her head. “No, though I might apply to take one on when I get home. Konoha has truly inspired me to think about it.”

“I see. Well, I’m honored that the village could inspire you like that,” Kakashi said. He kept himself from staring at Kumi to try to get a read on her. In all the time that the delegation had been in the village, Kakashi hadn’t really gotten a chance to speak to her. He’d only really interacted with any of their visitors right after their arrival when she had been absent. She seemed to be nice and intelligent, like Iruka had described, and in any other situation Kakashi probably would have found himself liking her. Under different circumstances.

“I am just pleased with the agreement we’ve reached,” Shigeru said, breaking off the line of conversation Kumi had started, much to Kakashi’s relief. “We’ve already sent a hawk to Raikage-sama, thanks to your aviary. Once he sends his approval back, everything should be finalized for good.”

“I hope he’ll be satisfied with the agreement we’ve reached,” Kakashi mused.

“He should be,” the engineer replied in a reserved manner. “Everything is well within the limitations he has given us. I imagine that Raikage-sama will be very pleased.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kakashi replied diplomatically. “Please thank him from us for requesting the negotiations in the first place. We’re very happy whenever we get a chance to strengthen our friendship with Kumo. And the Land of Lighting in general, of course.”

“Of course,” Shigeru agreed.

They arrived at the gate and the delegation looked a bit surprised to see Naruto waiting for them. Along with Sai, but between the two of them, Naruto was definitely the person who provoked a reaction.

“Hey, Kumi-onee-chan!” Naruto greeted with one of his trademark bright grins as he and Sai approached to meet the group.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Kakashi said, “but I’ve taken the liberty of assigning two escorts to your group since you unfortunately lost a member of your team on the way here. You know Naruto, of course. And this is Sai. He is one of our most skilled jōnin and is already familiar with the threats that you’ve had to deal with.”

Sai smiled and bowed lightly. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Ah, that’s very kind,” Shigeru said, “but we have very capable shinobi with us as well. I don’t think this is necessary.” He looked at Kumi and the last remaining shinobi guard.

“I don’t doubt your skill,” Kakashi replied amicably. “But there is safety in numbers and I do feel responsible for what happened on your way here. I would like to ensure that you make it safely out of Fire Country. And this assignment is not purely altruistic. In addition to protecting you, Naruto and Sai are instructed to neutralize and investigate dangers. We need to take care of this problem, as you can imagine.”

The original plan had been to send out Naruto and Sai to just deal with the danger. But their mission coincided with the departure of the delegation and it had only made sense to combine the two. Kakashi wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to ensure that the delegation made it back safely. What he omitted however, was that Naruto and Sai had been told to investigate further after seeing the delegation off. Their primary objective for that second part of the mission was to capture an enemy and bring them in for questioning. Kakashi would have much preferred to have them just take down the threat, but it was too widespread and Kakashi didn’t know enough about it, yet. So, learning more came first.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Kumi chimed in. “We did have trouble on the way here, there’s no point in denying it. An escort would greatly benefit us. Not to mention that we shinobi have so much to learn from each other and so little time to do so.” She looked at Shigeru. “And it’s a real treat to see Konoha shinobi in action.”

There was a tone of voice there that Kakashi didn’t appreciate. Which probably had more to do with the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Kumi’s presence in Konoha rather than her actual personality. “I hope you won’t have to see them in action,” he said kindly.

“True,” Shigeru agreed. “I’d rather make it home without another encounter like that.”

“But if there is another one,” Naruto spoke up, “Sai and I will take care of it, no problem. We’re like an elite team, y’know?”

Sai nodded. “I have seen and assessed the threat in person a few days ago. We should have no difficulty ensuring your safety on the way to the border.”

“Well, with so much confidence to go around, I guess I can’t say ‘no’,” Shigeru assessed. At the proclamation, the engineer and the one remaining shinobi guard of the delegation visibly relaxed. Kakashi felt a bit guilty. Expecting a peaceful trip to Konoha only to have one’s comrade fall to criminals must have been painful to experience.

“We should head out soon, then,” Kumi suggested. “It’s early, but moving carefully will slow us down and we should use all the daylight we can get.”

“Right you are. We’ve already taken more time here than planned,” Shigeru agreed. “Thank you again, Rokudaime-sama and Shikamaru-san, for your hospitality and collaboration. We are happy to report favorably about you and your beautiful village back home.” All members of the delegation bowed to Kakashi. Kakashi’s knee-jerk reaction of telling them to cut it out was suppressed swiftly. He could do that with his own subordinates, but not with international visitors.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Kakashi said as Shikamaru bowed to the delegation in return. “And have a safe trip.”

“Thank you,” Shigeru replied.

The delegation stopped their bow. They looked between each other in assessment. With a few last goodbyes to Kakashi and Shikamaru, they turned to the gates.

“See you soon!” Naruto called as he waved before turning to join the group. Sai offered a small wave and a smile as well.

Kakashi and Shikamaru observed as they all made their way through the gate. Naruto immediately fell into step beside Kumi and struck up conversation with her as if they had known each other for years. Kakashi smiled to himself. Naruto just kept making friends wherever he went. What an absolutely wondrous ability to have.

“Do you think it was a good idea to send Naruto to accompany Kumi-san?” Shikamaru asked and a glance revealed him to be critically eying the unfolding conversation.

Since there was no actual strategic disadvantage, Kakashi figured that Shikamaru was referring to their connection through Iruka. “I don’t see a problem. It’s not like he has any critical information to share. Or vice versa, I assume.”

Shikamaru hummed in consideration. “I suppose.”

Kakashi turned around to start making his way back to the Tower. “Well, at least that’s done now. Only about a million things left on the itinerary, I suppose.”

“Just about,” Shikamaru agreed as he walked beside Kakashi.

Kakashi glanced at him. “Good thing I have such a superb aide to assist me on even a trying day.”

Shikamaru grimaced. “If you’re relieved about that, you might want to heed Shigeru-san’s advice and make sure your superb aide sticks around, honored Rokudaime-sama.”

Kakashi felt something inside him shrivel up at the overly formal address. Touché.

-

Kakashi had unfortunately been right about the itinerary. Shikamaru spent the rest of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon going through heaps of paperwork. Most of it was the result of the new trade agreement he’d helped to develop. Now that the actual agreement itself was settled – except for the approval of the Raikage –, a lot of local processes and regulations needed to be adjusted accordingly. The most annoying part was going to be communicating everything to the people, which fortunately was something Kakashi was going to handle himself.

But he had entrusted the strategy and planning of all the changes to Shikamaru. And while it wasn’t his favorite kind of work, it was important. Trade agreements were one of several pillars that carried an international friendship. And international friendships were vital for the continued function of the allied nations. Maintaining the alliance often required some strategic maneuvering, which Shikamaru found rather interesting. So with that in mind, he prepared everything he had been asked to prepare until he had a stack of documents that were ready to get the Hokage’s stamp of approval.

Satisfied with his work, Shikamaru delivered it to the Hokage’s office and deposited it on Kakashi’s desk. He announced that he was taking a late lunch break since he hadn’t gotten around to it yet and Kakashi only made a noise of acknowledgment while being visibly engrossed in something else.

Curious, Shikamaru glanced at the large sheet of paper Kakashi was staring at. It was a map of Konoha, though Konoha itself didn’t take up most of the space. Rather, the map depicted the area surrounding the village, including the structure of the forest, boulders and a nearby lake. Unfortunately, there were no notes or highlights that provided any insight into what Kakashi was working on.

Shikamaru would have asked out of sheer curiosity, but he had more pressing matters to tend to.

“See you later,” he told Kakashi as he turned to leave.

“Take the time you need,” Kakashi replied without looking up. He probably pointed it out because Shikamaru was taking his break so late.

Not that he had to say anything. Shikamaru always took his time when he was on break unless there was something important that demanded his attention. So far, Kakashi had never denied him a break or even time off when he had requested it. For someone who had once had a reputation for being cold-blooded, cruel and all around antisocial, Kakashi was surprisingly lenient and pleasant as a direct superior.

Shikamaru shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way out of the tower in contemplation. He hadn’t chosen to work for Kakashi because he had wanted to work for Kakashi. He would have taken the position of assistant for any Hokage that came before Naruto – And Shikamaru had no doubts that he was eventually going to be working for Naruto in the same capacity. Shikamaru had even had his reservations about working for Kakashi for a myriad of reasons, but for all his quirks and oddities, Kakashi was actually pretty easy to work with.

He tried to hide his kindness for some reason that was beyond Shikamaru, but it was glaringly obvious that he cared. About the village, about the citizens, about the people that worked for him, directly and indirectly. Shikamaru had heard before of Kakashi’s strong conviction to never leave a comrade behind, something he had apparently instilled in Naruto as well. It made sense that the sentiment translated into his treatment of his subordinates. He fit well into his position. So in spite of everything, Shikamaru really didn’t mind working for him.

The morning sun had disappeared behind clouds sometime during the day, only peeking out occasionally. It was good weather for some cloud watching. Shikamaru resisted the temptation to find a comfortable spot to lie in to while away his break and made himself keep walking. Eventually, he saw the hospital. As he looked at the building he thought about how he hadn’t been here in a while.

In the last few years the hospital had improved greatly. It was bigger than it ever had been before, looked newer and was generally far more modern. From what Shikamaru had read in different proposals and summaries, it also contained state of the art equipment, making it one of the most advanced hospitals in all the Hidden Villages. Most of the credit for this went to the woman Shikamaru was going to visit. Sakura valiantly continued to carry on the torch of her mentor.

Shikamaru entered the building and went to the front desk. The people there gave him suspicious and narrow-eyed looks when he immediately asked after Sakura. Right. People talked when a man visited a woman out of nowhere. Even if both of them were in – unfortunately – publicly known relationships. So he added that he was there on behalf of the Rokudaime which immediately smoothed knit brows and relaxed pursed lips among the staff. Suddenly, they were very happy to give him directions. Ridiculous, all of it.

He rolled his eyes once his back was turned to the staff and followed their directions through the hallways of the hospital. They led him to a closed office door. He knocked, but no one answered and he decided to wait for a few minutes. As a medic-nin, Sakura probably spent a lot of her time in different parts of the building.

Just as he was contemplating this, he heard footsteps down the hallway and saw Sakura turning a corner. She examined something on a clipboard as she walked while talking animatedly to a person that Shikamaru didn’t recognize but appeared to be a medic-nin or nurse. Sakura looked up, spotted Shikamaru and paused.

“We’ll discuss the rest later,” Sakura told her colleague with a smile. “Thank you for your diligence.”

The colleague nodded and excused herself. She eyed Shikamaru with a curious look as she passed him by and he couldn’t have cared less for it. If this one visit was turned into something to be spread among the gossip hounds for no reason, it was going to be an absolute pain. Shikamaru’s only saving grace was that the one person he really didn’t want to hear any false rumors lived in Suna. She would have been livid to hear him being talked about like that. Imagining the kind of hell Temari would have brought down upon him made him want to smile with fondness. He suppressed it immediately and made sure that the corners of his mouth stayed exactly where they were.

“Shikamaru-kun,” Sakura greeted carefully as she drew closer. “This is a surprise. We didn’t have an appointment or anything, did we?” She pulled out a keyring and walked up to the door of her office.

“No. I came here to discuss something.”

Sakura hummed. “I figured as much.”

“Do you have time?”

“Sure.” Sakura smiled at him before unlocking her door. “Come in.”

Shikamaru followed Sakura into her office. As she closed the door behind them, he took a look around.

The room was nice as far as hospital offices went. One side was lined with shelves containing various medical books and records. A desk sat by the window with an office chair behind it and two simple ones in front of it. The walls displayed several medical charts and guidelines as well as some modest decorations. And, of course, the room was impeccably clean and tidy.

“Is this a safe place to talk?” Shikamaru asked. His fingers brushed over the soundproofing tag in his pocket, the one he’d been given by Kakashi.

“It is,” Sakura replied as she put down the clipboard on the desk. “All the offices in the hospital have been warded against someone listening in ever since Tsunade-shishō made it mandatory. There’s a lot of sensitive medical information discussed in here.”

“Huh.”

“Only the offices, of course. It would be very stupid to put up wards in the patient rooms that keep us from hearing anyone calling for help,” Sakura explained.

“Never heard that people listening in here was a problem.”

“Not regularly, I think. There was an incident sometime shortly after shishō became Hokage. It’s not worth getting into, but she tightened hospital security after that. She actually made a lot of changes around here. I didn’t know that it was bad before, but she had some... strong words about the way Sandaime did some things.” Sakura smiled awkwardly and Shikamaru could only imagine the colorful rants she had been subjected to.

“Is there anything that documents all the security measures?” Shikamaru asked.

“Yeah. I can try to find the documents if you need them. But the wards aren’t anything fancy, honestly. I’m no expert, but I think they’re relatively easy to break for someone who knows their stuff. They probably don’t compare to what you have in Kakashi-sensei’s office,” she guessed.

“That place isn’t permanently soundproofed.”

Sakura raised her eyebrows. “It’s not?”

“Nah. The guards need to be able to hear what’s going on inside. The Hokage always needs to be able to communicate quickly with them.” Shikamaru pulled the soundproofing tag out of his pocket and showed it to her. “We use temporary measures when there’s something worth the discretion. Though that’s pretty rare.”

“I see. That makes sense. Well, at least it’s protected in other ways, I guess.”

“Yeah. There used to be a guard stationed inside the office, too. But from what I hear the presence drove Kakashi-sama up the wall and he removed that post permanently.”

“He would,” Sakura said, amused. She considered Shikamaru. “Why do I feel like you didn’t come here to talk about security measures with me?”

“Because I didn’t.” Shikamaru put the soundproofing tag back into his pocket. “I came here to make sure that we were on the same page. About what we discussed the other day.”

Sakura gave him a keen look. “You mean when we spoke about Kakashi-sensei after dinner?”

“Yes. And when we spoke during dinner. You understand why Iruka-sensei has an aversion to Naruto’s matchmaking attempts,” Shikamaru ventured.

“Well, aside from them probably being very uncomfortable for everyone? Yes.” She paused. “I know that he’s seeing someone and that no one’s supposed to know.”

“And you know whom he’s seeing.”

Sakura smiled. “Well yeah. And you know that I know, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought them up in such close relation to each other.”

Shikamaru nodded. “Good. I just needed to make sure I had all the facts.”

“Yeah, of course. You know, I wondered whether you maybe figured it out. Before the dinner, I mean,” she said. She leaned against her desk and crossed her arms.

“You did?”

“Sure. You don’t need me to tell you that you’re smart. And you work directly for Kakashi-sensei. I mean, I don’t think anyone else could figure it out. But you’re in a unique position. I wanted to ask you about it at some point. Obviously, I couldn’t,” Sakura explained.

“Honestly, the less we concern ourselves with it the better.” As much as Shikamaru disagreed with the strategy of permanent secrecy, he could respect that it was the strategy chosen and do his best to go along with it. And that meant acting like nothing was going on as much as possible. However, in order to play his role, he needed to understand all the key players on the battlefield, as well as any potential breaches. “How did you figure it out?”

“Ah, well, I guess I was in a unique position, too,” Sakura explained. “I saw a souvenir.”

Shikamaru looked at her expectantly. “Care to elaborate?”

“Alright, well. Honestly, if you want me to elaborate, I should probably tell you that I noticed something was strange a while ago.”

“How long ago?”

Sakura made a noise of contemplation. “Hm, let’s see... I think it was while Naruto was away to train with Jiraiya-sama.”

Shikamaru blinked. “You’ve known that long?”

“No, not at all. That’s just when I noticed something was up. I saw them take a walk together once. There wasn’t anything, you know, obvious about it, it just surprised me because I didn’t know they were friends at the time. I thought it was nice, especially since I always figured Kakashi-sensei was a loner.”

Shikamaru waited for Sakura to continue. Clearly, that couldn’t have been all of it unless Sakura had supernatural intuition.

“Then a week or so later, Iruka-sensei and I happened to meet at Ichiraku’s. We sat together and talked for a bit. Then Kakashi-sensei walked in and they acted like they barely knew each other. They said ‘hello’, but no one offered to sit together. It struck me as odd. But then, Kakashi-sensei has always been an oddball, so I just figured it was strange and didn’t think about it much more,” Sakura explained. “After that, I was sort of reminded of it whenever I saw them together every few months or so. I felt like things were a bit off about them, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.”

“If someone else saw the same things you did, do you think they could have extrapolated the truth?” Shikamaru asked.

Sakura frowned. “That would be one hell of a leap. They never acted like, well, like that or anything. I never thought it was like that back then. Kakashi-sensei just seemed different to me.”

“So when did you figure it out?”

“When I visited Iruka-sensei a few months ago. I ran into him and realized that it would be nice to catch up and he invited me over for tea. Naruto was invited, too, but he got called on a mission, so it was just the two of us.” Sakura paused. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been at Iruka-sensei’s place, but he’s got a lot of things on his shelves. Little trinkets and stuff. One of them was this little charm that’s meant to protect a loved one. It seemed super familiar to me, but at first I couldn’t tell why.”

“A charm?” Shikamaru asked.

“Yeah. It’s very unique. You can’t get anything like it here. I realized that I recognized it from a shrine in Tea Country. Kakashi-sensei, me and some others went on a mission there once. It was surprising to find it in Iruka-sensei’s home, so I asked him about it. I didn’t even think Kakashi-sensei had anything to do with it, I just figured that the charms must be common in Tea Country. But when I asked, Iruka-sensei suddenly got really nervous and said it was from the Land of Hot Springs. It was a total lie. And then I pieced the rest together.”

Shikamaru regarded her with surprise. “You remembered a single charm from one mission years in the past?”

Sakura blushed. She averted her eyes as she wrung her hands. “Well, it was- I thought about getting one back then. For someone. I didn’t. I never realized someone else from the group did.”

Ah. Sakura had always been the hopeful sort. Rightfully so as it had turned out. “I guess you figured it was from Kakashi-sama because you’d seen them be friendly-”

“Yes.”

“-but why assume they were together? They could have just been friends,” Shikamaru suggested.

Sakura shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t think Kakashi-sensei was the type to bring someone a gift like that unless it meant something. And for Iruka-sensei to treasure it so much to keep it on a shelf for years. I mean, he must have recovered it after Pain. Or Kakashi-sensei must have gotten him a new one. Either way, it seemed pretty serious.”

“Still, to assume that it’s not just friendship...,” Shikamaru pondered.

“Oh, well, I don’t know what others would assume. But I knew it was an option. Neither of them have ever had girlfriends, at least not publicly.” She waved her hand. “And there’s- Um-” Her face grew redder. She was staring at the wall. “There’s books like that, you know. If you know where to look,” she admitted, her voice very quiet.

Shikamaru’s face heated at the admission.

“Not that I read that kind of thing! But I-” she stammered.

“Right,” Shikamaru cut in, killing that thread of conversation with mercy before it had a chance to continue. For both of their sakes. He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you tell either of them about it?”

Sakura looked at her hands. She remained quiet for a moment before replying. “They didn’t want me to know. I found out purely by accident. And I’m not naïve, I know why it’s a secret. I didn’t want to intrude or to worry them. It’s not like they’re being obvious, I only know because of that random little coincidence. Like I said, I had no idea Kakashi-sensei even bought one of those things back then. They don’t act like either of them are together with anyone. And I don’t know when I’ve last seen them in the same room.”

Shikamaru was satisfied with that explanation. It confirmed his perspective. Kakashi and Iruka weren’t broadcasting or displaying anything they didn’t want to. The only way to find out was to have some kind of insider information and even that apparently needed a freak coincidence, like a protective charm from Tea Country. Shikamaru deduced that it wasn’t enough to be considered a security breach. “So you have no intention of telling anyone, I assume.”

“Of course not!” Sakura said. She glared at him. “I would never do something like that to either of them.”

“I just need to make sure,” Shikamaru said calmly. “I told Kakashi-sama about what Naruto’s up to.”

“How did he take it?” Sakura asked.

“He knew already. He said there’s not much he can do.” Shikamaru shrugged. “I suggested just telling him so he’d back off, but Kakashi-sama doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want the public to know, either. So we’ll have to keep our silence about it.”

“Well, that makes sense, don’t you think?” Sakura said. “There’s lots of people who wouldn’t understand. And with Kakashi-sensei being Hokage... I understand why they don’t want anybody to know.” She hesitated. “Though I think you’re right. Maybe they could tell Naruto. At least to stop this- this stupid plan of his.”

Shikamaru sighed. “Not gonna happen. Apparently, they don’t want to burden anyone with that kind of knowledge.”

“Burden?” Sakura asked. She sighed. “That’s so typical of Kakashi-sensei. Honestly! That’s what friends are for. How does he ever ask anyone to do anything if everything is such a burden?”

“It’s different if it’s official business. He doesn’t mind giving orders.”

Sakura frowned. “I don’t like this. How are they even meeting? Do his guards know?”

“I have reason to believe they don’t,” Shikamaru said.

“So it’s really just the two of them and us?”

Shikamaru nodded. “Unless I somehow missed someone, but I don’t know how anyone else would have figured it out when they’re avoiding each other like the plague and nobody would ever suspect them. But if you do find out about someone else, tell me or either of them immediately. Someone needs to stay on top of this.”

“Yes, of course.” She eyed him. “You seem… adamant.”

“Hm?”

“Well, normally, you don’t care about these things, right? But you seem bothered. Did something happen? Something aside from Naruto’s scheming?”

Shikamaru hesitated. “I can’t say too much. There’s someone causing some trouble for Kakashi-sama that might affect his private life.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yeah?” She cracked her knuckles. “What kind of trouble?”

Shikamaru looked at her hands, unimpressed. “Not the kind of trouble that you can handle like that. At least not with these people. I can’t tell you more. Just trust me that it’s a pain for everyone involved.”

Sakura dropped her hands to her sides, visibly disappointed. “Is he in danger? Or Iruka-sensei?”

“No. And I doubt that these people will find out anything. It’s something else.” Shikamaru looked up at the clock. “Anyway, I have to get going. I just wanted to know where you stood on the matter.”

“Alright.” Sakura looked at him with an earnest expression. “I don’t see either of them very much these days. So if you hear of anything they need, anyway I could help them-“

“Got it,” Shikamaru said with a nod. “I seriously doubt that there will be anything, though.”

Sakura sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

-

Iruka groaned as he looked over his lesson plan. He was sitting at his desk at home, working by the light of the desk lamp. He had his head propped up on his hands, and an empty mug that had once contained tea sat beside the documents he was poring over. He yawned. It had gotten pretty late. He leaned back in his desk chair with a groan and raised his arms over his head and arched his back to stretch.

One moment, he felt the comfortable pull of a good stretch. The next, he was entirely focused on a pair of arms that suddenly appeared around him, hugging him from behind.

Iruka startled, but the arms held on tightly.

“I’m home,” a trusted voice muttered into Iruka’s ear and Iruka relaxed as Kakashi rested his chin on his shoulder.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Iruka pointed out as he put his hands on Kakashi’s arms and pressed his cheek to Kakashi’s masked one.

“Good. Means I haven’t entirely lost my edge,” Kakashi teased. He squeezed Iruka tightly once before letting go. Iruka turned and got up from the desk.

“In my defense,” he said as he crossed his arms, “it’s late and I’m tired and I had a long day at school.” That, and Kakashi could still move with the deadly silence of an ANBU. Iruka supposed that kind of stealth was something one never really lost once it had been ingrained.

“Oh yeah?” Kakashi asked as he slipped off his forehead protector, getting comfortable in Iruka’s home just like Iruka liked him to. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Ah, it’s not very interesting. Yesterday I confiscated a book that I’m pretty sure belongs to one of my students. It’s a bit concerning, but I don’t know for sure whom it belongs to. So today I tried to talk about the contents of it a bit to try and see whether I could sway some minds.”

Kakashi hummed as he took off his flak jacket. “You mentioned something about that. What was the book?”

“Some gruesome tales about shinobi life.”

“Real ones?”

“Questionable,” Iruka replied drily. “Some of them, probably. But there’s probably a lot of exaggeration and I think some were made up entirely. Not that it really matters. Real or not, it’s not something I think the kids should be reading.”

Kakashi nodded as he put aside his flak jacket. “So how did the lesson go?”

Iruka grimaced. “The response was... mixed. I tried not to talk about the book directly because I didn’t want anyone to feel called out. I think everyone was a bit confused about the topic. Some were interested and agreed with me from the get-go, others weren’t as easily convinced. I don’t know, it’s a sensitive issue.”

“Well, you’re good at handling those,” Kakashi pointed out.

“Eh, I guess. I’ll have to find a different approach. Or maybe leave it be for now. It’s difficult because whoever owns the book technically didn’t do anything wrong. And this is a moral issue, which isn’t exactly part of the curriculum. I’d hate to get in trouble for something like that,” Iruka explained.

Kakashi looked at him. “Do you think it should be part of the curriculum?”

“What? Morality? That’s a bit broad. And probably a bit much for the kids.”

“Not morality as such. But maybe something about mercy? I don’t know, you’re the teacher here,” Kakashi deflected. “But if it’s something you’re teaching now, maybe it’s sensible to teach it all the time.”

Iruka considered that. While he already mentioned to his kids that violence wasn’t the answer to everything and that killing an enemy should be seen as a solution only if every other solution failed, he never really dove into morality. He’d never taught the merits of keeping an enemy alive even when they weren’t slated for interrogation. Such lessons would have seemed rather innocent and foolish in the context of shinobi life and duty.

Yet, the world was changing. And its shinobi were slowly changing with it. Iruka had already begun his work to adapt the curriculum. Maybe this could be another step in that direction.

“I’ll think of something,” he told Kakashi honestly. “Maybe I’ll talk to the headmaster.”

“You should,” Kakashi encouraged with a smile.

“We’ll see. For now, I have much more important things on my mind.” Iruka walked over to close the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s waist, pulled him close and buried his face in the crook of Kakashi’s neck to breathe him in. “I missed you.”

Kakashi chuckled and hugged Iruka back, holding on tight. “We saw each other just yesterday.”

“But not like this,” Iruka insisted.

“That’s true. Definitely not like this,” Kakashi agreed and clung to Iruka a little more tightly. They swayed from side to side, holding onto one another. It made Iruka feel relieved and safe. Eventually, they both leaned back and searched each other’s eyes. Iruka slowly reached up and lightly brushed over the fabric of the mask with his fingertips, ever upwards until they met the seam. He ran his fingers over the line where fabric met porcelain skin.

Iruka stared into Kakashi’s deep grey eyes as he felt Kakashi’s cheek start to heat under his hand. His fingertip crested over the edge of the mask and dipped into the fabric before dragging it down with a curled finger, revealing more of Kakashi’s handsome features. He released the mask once Kakashi’s face was fully bared and the mask came to pool around his neck, gathered at his throat.

Kakashi swallowed and Iruka reached back up, fingertips ghosting over soft skin until his hand cupped Kakashi’s jaw.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Iruka whispered.

“Me too,” Kakashi replied in an equally hushed tone.

And then they kissed. Their lips met, sending waves of relief and longing crashing over Iruka. He pulled Kakashi closer and Kakashi gripped him more tightly as they collided with one another. Iruka’s hand wandered further, reaching into silver hair and grabbing a fistful it. Kakashi moaned softly into the kiss in response. Iruka let out a breathy chuckle.

Iruka trailed the tip of his tongue over Kakashi’s bottom lip before diving into his mouth. Kakashi groaned in response and ran his hands over Iruka’s back. They parted, panting, before meeting again for more. They grabbed at each other, held onto each other as if one of them could disappear at any moment.

Just as Iruka’s thoughts began heading towards his bed but before he could start to actually move that way, Kakashi pulled away once again. Breathlessly, he said, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Iruka blinked, surprised. “What is it?”

“Do you have time tomorrow evening?”

Iruka stared as the thoughts of his bed and the potential activities there were momentarily dispersed. “I guess so. Why?”

“Four our date. Or did you forget?” Kakashi smirked as he reached out to brush his thumb over the line of Iruka’s jaw.

“No, I just- I didn’t know whether that was really a possibility.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “Did you think I was lying to you?”

“No, just swept up in... something. You seemed so-” -manic- “-enthused.”

“Well, I may have received some advice that I decided to accept,” he said cryptically, still wearing that same smirk.

“Alright, well, where will we be going on our date?”

“That’s a surprise.” Kakashi grinned. “I just need you to be here and ready to go. I will handle the rest.”

Iruka smiled as something giddy and excited began bubbling in his chest at the idea of really going out with Kakashi again. “I can do that. Are you sure that it will be safe?”

Kakashi nodded. He trailed his hand down the side of Iruka’s neck, observing how his thumb brushed over the skin there. “Yes. Don’t worry, I’m taking precautions. Naruto is even currently out on a mission. And Ino-chan, whom he wanted to spy on you, too. I’m treating this as an S-rank.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about you treating this as a mission,” Iruka teased. He paused. “And wouldn’t that mean you’ll assign a different person, or even a team to the task?”

“A team?” Kakashi looked back into Iruka’s eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “You never told me you were into that sort of thing, sensei.”

Iruka flushed. “I’m not! It was your analogy that didn’t work. Pervert.” Iruka hit him playfully.

“Now, now, Iruka, you know that there’s no reason to be ashamed. You know I love to indulge you and your preferences.” Kakashi’s own cheeks were red, but he gave Iruka a deep and all-consuming look that Iruka was ready to get lost in.

Iruka hummed as he gave Kakashi a dangerous smile. Eyeing his prey. “Tomorrow, you said?”

“Hm?”

“The date. You said tomorrow,” Iruka reminded.

“Yeah?”

“Well then, let’s wait until tomorrow, and you can indulge all you want.”

Kakashi stared, face red, and nodded eagerly. “Yes, sensei.”

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Kakashi was out on a mission. But he found it difficult to focus on his objective.

A couple of days had passed since he had heel-kicked a jōnin into the floor of the Mission Assignment Room for Iruka’s sake. An event that probably should have left some kind of impression on his mind. But it was completely overshadowed by what had transpired afterwards.

Kakashi had gone over it multiple times in his head, but he was still left with uncertainty. Iruka and him had talked and then Kakashi thought there had been some unintended, yet mutual flirting. But his social understanding could have been off, because, if the flirting had indeed been mutual, why would Iruka have left as abruptly as he had?

The way he had stammered and absconded had been nothing short of fleeing.

It had taken Kakashi some willpower not to follow in pursuit. But Iruka’s leaving surely had been a signal to give him space. And Kakashi had had an A-rank to go on, anyway. So he’d left, unsure of who had flirted, how said flirtation had been interpreted if there had been any, and what all of it meant. Whatever the reality of the situation, Kakashi was reasonably certain that he’d messed something up if Iruka had been the one to flee the scene.

And just when they had rekindled their friendship after his last fuck-up. Iruka had given him a second chance, Kakashi knew better than to hope for a third.

Unfortunately, being stuck on a mission right afterwards meant there was no way for him to further investigate things to get a clearer picture of what had happened.

The mission itself was simple enough. Kakashi was partnered with a chūnin sensor he hadn’t worked with before to recover some cargo that had gotten lost in enemy territory. Kakashi’s mission partner was the quiet type, so they traveled in silence for the most part. Weather conditions weren’t great but good enough – some light rain and cold winds – and they didn’t encounter any trouble. They made good time and located the cargo quickly: some ninja tools and scrolls that fortunately hadn’t made their way into someone else’s possession yet. They were scattered beside a river where a battle had evidently taken place. The elements had washed away some of the traces, but the large burnt areas, the weapons still stuck in the environment and the disturbed ground from repeated Earth Release jutsu spoke for themselves.

Kakashi gave some instructions to his mission partner to gather everything while he did his best to remove the remnants of the fight. Just when they’d finished collecting everything and restoring the scene to something more unassuming, the chūnin pointed out that someone was drawing closer. The reason that their mission was an A-rank: a band of missing-nin rumored to roam these parts.

Understanding the situation, Kakashi told the chūnin to cloak his presence as best he could and start making his way back to Konoha with everything they had collected while Kakashi stayed behind to take care of the threat. Kakashi’s mission partner nodded and took off as instructed.

Soon after, the enemies arrived. Three of them appeared on the hill overlooking the river, doing their best to appear menacing. Kakashi bared his Sharingan and after the obligatory acknowledgement of his identity, moniker and reputation by the missing-nin, the battle was on.

Two of the enemies focused mainly on using Earth Release, trying to crush him between synchronized attacks while the third kept him occupied with his sickle-and-chain weapon combo. Kakashi used genjutsu to trap the weapon master before attacking the other two with a combination of Lightning Release jutsu – which Earth was naturally weak to – and Water Release jutsu – which Kakashi could draw on the river for, providing him a lot of water to overwhelm the enemies with.

Kakashi ended up expending more chakra than he had expected and sustaining a couple of wounds from the sickle part of the sickle-and-chain combination, but he eventually knocked out the enemies. He debated on what to do with them. He wasn’t under orders to kill them and they weren’t technically Konoha’s problem, but he also couldn’t let them just continue to roam free. He decided to put them in a prisoner scroll for T&I. They could always use more information and Kakashi could stand to get on Ibiki’s good side a little more, anyway.

He stored the scroll in his pack and winced. One of the wounds he’d sustained was close to his collar bone, just beside his left shoulder. The blade had cut right through the flak jacket and drawn blood and now it was a line of searing pain that pulled and ached with every movement. Kakashi pressed one hand into the fabric beside the injury and felt how damp his shirt had gotten. He sighed as he took in the sight of his blood-slicked fingers and glove. He had to take care of that before he could start his journey back.

So he took off his flak jacket and pulled out his medkit to quickly dress the injuries with some bandages before redressing and setting out. The journey to the destination site had taken about three days and Kakashi was determined to make it back in two. At first, he chalked this drive up to the obligation of making sure that his mission partner made it back safe. But his own thoughts soon betrayed the true reason for his restlessness: Iruka.

Kakashi needed to see Iruka. To make amends and apologize or to try to gloss over it all or to at least better understand where they were at. Iruka was such a big part of returning to Konoha for Kakashi that not knowing whether he was something he could still return to left him off-kilter.

In his quest to return home as quickly as possible, he not only pushed his body to run as fast as it could, but he also forewent some of the breaks that him and his mission partner had taken on their trip. His speed led to him catching up to the chūnin who looked at Kakashi’s bloodstained uniform for a long moment but didn’t say anything about it. His file hadn’t mentioned medical ninjutsu so Kakashi figured that he couldn’t have done anything about it anyway.

They journeyed the rest of the way together. Kakashi grimaced at his breakneck pace being slowed down, but since he didn’t have a reason to push for faster travel that he could actually talk about, he accepted it.

Eventually, the surroundings became extremely familiar and shortly thereafter – after two and a half days of travel – the protective walls of Konoha came into view between the trees.

They arrived in the village just as the skies cleared and the frigid air was warmed lightly by the gentle rays of sunlight.

As mission captain, it was up to Kakashi to write and hand in the report and deliver everything they had been asked to return. And, of course, to deliver the prisoners. But Iruka was most likely not on Desk shift that evening, so there was no point in writing the report right away. Kakashi asked for the equipment from his mission partner, who handed everything over, thanked Kakashi for the work, and took off after one last lingering look at Kakashi’s injury.

It was afternoon and Iruka was likely still teaching. The Academy called to Kakashi to come see him and make things right, but its pull was just weak enough to allow him to make a detour to T&I to drop off the scroll containing the prisoners.

After answering a few questions about who was in the scroll, where he’d found them and what condition they were in, he was free to go and finally free to seek out Iruka. The report and equipment could wait after all. Ensuring that Iruka knew that he hadn’t ditched him could not.

Kakashi’s chest began to feel constricted as he headed to the Academy building. His stomach soured and a sense of nausea crept up his throat. Because something occurred to him.

He’d thought there had been some mutuality in their flirting. But he somehow hadn’t considered until just then he’d completely tipped his hand if he was wrong. That he had revealed to Iruka something about his attractions that was cause for disdain in some people.

He imagined Iruka looking at him with revulsion or pity or anger and asking him to stay away. Explaining how Kakashi’s advances were unwelcome and how he didn’t want to see him again. Or maybe how he’d had a lapse in judgment in that one moment on the roof or how Kakashi had misunderstood and how his company was no longer desired.

The thought made him almost turn around. Maybe ignorance would have been better than going through that.

Kakashi hadn’t even meant to make any advances. Things had just slipped out. He hadn’t meant to let Iruka in on anything. He hadn’t planned on revealing that side of himself. That moment on the roof had been surreal, almost safe. It had brought something out that Kakashi should have kept silent and hidden.

But no. Avoiding had been a mistake last time. Kakashi made many mistakes but he tried not to make the same ones twice.

He continued on his way to the Academy. At this time of day, class was probably already finishing up. Iruka tended to hang around for a little while afterwards doing whatever it was that teachers did inside classrooms once the students had left for the day.

Kakashi leapt towards the tree that stood closest to the Academy building and landed on one of its thick branches. He winced as he made contact, his hand shooting up instinctively to his injury as it throbbed with pain. He ignored it again as well as the hot and sticky sensation of something liquid seeping into the fabric around it. He had more important things on his mind. He looked through the windows of Iruka’s classroom.

As predicted, most of the room was completely deserted. Only Iruka was left, standing beside his desk and packing his teaching bag.

Kakashi’s plan had been to intercept Iruka outside, but now a far better opportunity presented itself. Without a second thought, Kakashi leapt over to the building. He landed on the narrow ledge just beneath the window closest to Iruka’s desk. He knocked on the glass gently and watched as Iruka immediately looked up in surprise. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Iruka was still holding a book that he’d been about to slip into his bag. Now, he was frozen in place, staring at Kakashi with wide eyes.

Kakashi then realized that if Iruka truly didn’t want to see him anymore, if he was repulsed by him and his actions, then bothering him like this at his place of work had probably been a really bad decision. Few routes of escape. Limited accepted behavior within earshot of potential colleagues.

Iruka blinked and apparently remembered himself. He put down the book and approached the window, still looking at Kakashi as if he was a ghost. He unlatched the window and opened it.

“Kakashi-san? What are you doing here?” he asked with trepidation.

Kakashi’s heart sank as Iruka regarded him with such uncertainty and unease. The reality that it had been a mistake to come here solidified itself in his mind. But it was too late to simply turn around and leave. “I-” His shoulder throbbed painfully and cut Kakashi off.

“Kakashi-san?”

“Hang on, I-” Suddenly, the ledge under his feet felt a lot narrower and the world seemed to tilt. Kakashi held onto the window frame for support.

“Kakashi-san?”

It was no use. Kakashi lost his balance and stumbled into the classroom.

Huh. Maybe the cut was more serious than he had thought.

-

“Kakashi-san!” Iruka called out as Kakashi stumbled forward. Iruka reached out to steady him but Kakashi managed to catch himself on the edge of Iruka’s desk to keep himself upright. Well, mostly upright.

“It’s alright,” Kakashi said quickly, but everything in his body language said otherwise. “I’m fine. I just got lightheaded.”

“Lightheaded? Do you-?” Just then, Iruka noticed how bloodied his clothes were, particularly an area on his upper torso, close to his shoulder was colored in an alarming hue. “Did you just come back from a mission?”

Kakashi blinked owlishly at him. “I may have.”

“And you’re injured?! Why are you not in the hospital?” Iruka demanded as he drew closer to try to get a better idea of what the extent of the damage was.

“It’s fine. I took care of it,” Kakashi said. He gestured to the injury and closer inspection revealed a large tear in his clothing that and behind that, a very lackluster field dressing.

“You’re bleeding through that.”

“Am I? I guess that makes sense,” Kakashi said way too calmly.

“How are you so nonchalant? You just nearly fainted-“

“I did not.”

Iruka shook his head. “Either way, we’re going to the hospital.”

“Nooo, no hospital,” Kakashi whined with the grace of a toddler as he took a step away from Iruka.

“Yes, hospital. You’re bleeding. You’re dizzy. You need medical attention,” Iruka explained slowly.

“No, I- I came here for a reason.”

“And we can get to that once you’re not bleeding out in my classroom.”

“You could just patch me up,” Kakashi pointed out. As he looked at Iruka, he didn’t seem disoriented or dizzy. “You’ve done it before.”

Iruka looked at the bloody bandages. “I’m no medic-nin.”

“Good, because I don’t like most of them,” Kakashi said.

Iruka continued to look at the wound for a moment, then back at Kakashi’s face. At that eye that was watching him intently. “Fine.” Iruka sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. Sit there-“ He gestured toward his chair. “-I’ll get the supplies. But if I find anything at all that I can’t handle or if you get dizzy again, I am dragging your ass to the hospital. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Kakashi said and saluted. He rounded Iruka’s desk and slumped down in his chair.

Iruka grumbled to himself as he went to close the window. They had let enough chilly air in already. He then walked over to the door where he paused and turned around. “If you die in that chair, I will never forgive you.”

“Noted.”

The reply came out clearly and immediately. A last look assured Iruka that Kakashi seemed present and in control of his faculties. He must really have just been lightheaded momentarily. It was likely safe enough to leave him alone for a moment. Iruka was still going to hurry. He closed the door as he left simply because explaining Kakashi’s presence sounded like a hassle. He quickly got a first aid kit from the supply closet down the hall and went to the restroom to wet some towels in the sink and thoroughly wash his hands before he headed back to the classroom. Kakashi was lucky that Academy instructors were required to take frequent first aid refresher courses, Iruka figured.

He returned with the supplies but stopped in his tracks in the doorframe. He stared.

Kakashi had divested himself of his flak jacket and shirt, both of which were draped over the back of the chair. His face was no longer concealed by the usual mask but by a dark piece of fabric that he must have carried around with him. Iruka was treated to the sight of Kakashi’s exposed upper body, colored in the soft afternoon light from the windows.

Iruka drank in Kakashi’s physique. His body was slim, yet his arms and chest displayed the subtle curves of trained muscle. His visible strength was elegant – like a dancer’s. Iruka’s eyes roamed over the valleys and hills of Kakashi’s chest and abdomen where many, many scars of varying ages and shapes decorated the skin. Some of them long and straight, made by blades, others marred and uneven burns and yet others the tell-tale webbing of a lightning strike. Each one unique, each one full of meaning and each one shaping Kakashi in its own way.

Iruka examined them from afar, his gaze traveling up and down Kakashi’s torso until he discovered the lines of Kakashi’s collar bones. They guided his gaze to the tantalizing dip of his throat, and the swell of his Adam’s apple, which sat in the middle of the pale column of his graceful neck. From there, Iruka’s attention traveled to his shoulders, which weren’t terribly broad, but strong. The one facing Iruka was adorned with the interlocking red swirl of the ANBU tattoo. One of Kakashi’s strong arms reached up to his injury to unwrap his bandages and Iruka watched mesmerized as his muscles moved under his skin.

Kakashi’s other arm rested in his lap, framing his navel. It was when Iruka’s gaze met the hem of Kakashi’s pants that he was finally able to tear his eyes away, breaking the spell.

“I got everything,” Iruka said, immensely proud that he didn’t stammer but painfully aware of how hot he suddenly felt. He approached slowly as Kakashi finished unraveling the bandage, revealing a deep gash that started at the end of a collar bone and reached all the way down to just above Kakashi’s nipple – which Iruka was studiously pretending didn’t exist.

Kakashi hummed. “It didn’t look that bad earlier.”

“That’s a terrifying statement,” Iruka said, latching onto anything that wasn’t the sight in front of him. The reality of the injury helped to sober him up from his fascination with Kakashi’s naked upper body. Iruka put the first aid kit down on the desk before examining the wound again, almost hesitant to get any closer. “It’s pretty bad, Kakashi-san, it’s going to need stitches. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have a medic do this?”

Kakashi met his eyes. “Absolutely. I trust you.”

“Fine,” Iruka replied, pretending at annoyance. As if there wasn’t a part of him that was intensely thrilled at the idea of staying in half-undressed Kakashi’s company. “I’m going to have to clean it before I can do any stitching and it’s probably going to hurt.”

“I can take it,” Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka turned away and took a silent deep breath, hoping that Kakashi didn’t realize just how nervous he was. He opened the first aid kit and looked over the contents before taking out a package of antiseptic wipes. He opened it up and pulled out the wipe before turning back to Kakashi who was looking at him expectantly.

Willing away the tremor in his hands, Iruka leaned down, further into Kakashi’s space, and gently dabbed at the wound. Kakashi hissed quietly at the first contact and from his periphery, Iruka could see him clench and unclench his hands once. Iruka continued. He diligently went over each part of the cut, careful not to press too hard or to get anything into the wound itself. Each time he gently pressed down, he could feel the heat of Kakashi’s skin through the thin fabric of the wipe and he tried not to notice it but it was all he could think about.

Eventually, he leaned back and discarded the bloodstained wipe on the desk. “I’m going to clean the surrounding area now,” he announced if only because neither of them had said anything while he had worked and the silence felt almost suffocating.

“Alright,” Kakashi said simply.

Iruka took one of the damp towels he had brought and leaned closer again, highly aware of each bit of distance that fell away between them as he did so. With light pressure, Iruka pressed the towel onto the exposed skin next to the wound and dragged it across Kakashi’s chest and shoulder. It was driving him mad. Telling himself that he was just providing medical assistance did very little when Iruka could feel the shape of Kakashi’s firm body through the wet towel, when he traced each divot and ran over each plane. And when he could see the glistening trail of moisture it left behind. Driven by a need to be thorough, he didn’t stop once the area surrounding the large cut was clean. He went on to take care of other areas as well, telling himself that the smaller scrapes and injuries needed to cleaned as well. If it brought him even closer to Kakashi, if he could almost feel his body heat as he dragged the wet towel across Kakashi’s abdomen, it was something he was going to have to bear.

Kakashi didn’t comment on his detour. He didn’t say anything and let Iruka work in silence. Silence that grew heavier by the minute. It was supposed to be cold in this room after the window had let in a wave of November air, but it felt like someone had lit a fire instead.

“Done,” Iruka said quietly as he finally retreated and put the towel onto the desk. “Stitches next,” he narrated quietly. Kakashi didn’t respond, but Iruka knew that he was observing his every move. The air was laden with his attention and something in the narrow distance between them seemed to hum.

Iruka turned his back to Kakashi to fuss with the first aid kit, afraid of his own gaze getting caught on Kakashi’s if he didn’t. He took another antiseptic wipe to clean his hands just in case before unpacking a sterilized curved needle and taking the spool of surgical threat. He looked at the wound again, trying not to get lost in the expanse of exposed skin around it. “A medic-nin could probably heal this without sutures,” he muttered, just loud enough for Kakashi to hear. To give him an out. To perhaps reiterate how unnecessary this was. But not to drive him away.

“It’s okay, sensei,” Kakashi said, matching his quiet tone, “I’ve had stitches before.”

It could have been Kakashi missing his point but Iruka didn’t think he’d been misunderstood at all. “Alright,” he replied simply and carefully threaded the needle, taking controlled breaths to steady himself. He leaned closer again and raised his hands to the wound only to have them hover above Kakashi’s body for a moment, trying to find an angle at which he could provide stitches without making any superfluous contact. “I’m going to have to touch you,” he said quietly.

“Go ahead.”

Iruka nodded and he felt Kakashi’s eye staring at him unwaveringly as he lowered his hands to rest beside the wound. The needle was pinched between the fingers of his right hand, the side of which brushed against Kakashi’s exposed skin. Iruka’s other hand touched Kakashi more purposefully, his fingertips coming to rest beside the cut to hold everything in place with gentle pressure. Every point of skin-to-skin contact felt brutally hot and left a prickling, tingling sensation dancing just under the surface of Iruka’s fingers.

“Hold still, please,” Iruka instructed before leading the needle into Kakashi’s vulnerable flesh. Kakashi didn’t wince or hiss or complain. He held perfectly still as Iruka placed the first stitch, tied it off and cut the thread before moving on to the second one.

The sutures focused Iruka’s frayed mind mercifully, allowing him to get on with his task without being too distracted by the body underneath his fingertips. But the humming in the air was still there and potent and the closeness to Kakashi, the vulnerability of him, was never far from Iruka’s mind. He carefully placed stitch after stitch, feeling like the wound went on forever as he lost all feeling of time. Occasionally, his fingers came to rest over an old scar of Kakashi’s, feeling the roughened skin there and making Iruka want to trail it with his fingertips and discover more of its kind. But then he tied off another piece of thread and carried on.

When he finished the final stitch and leaned back to look at his work, he released a breath and wondered if he had been breathing at all during the last few minutes. A handful of dark dots now adorned Kakashi’s skin, placed there by Iruka and it dawned on him how the shape this scar was going to take was going to be influenced by him. His handiwork immortalized on Kakashi’s skin.

“That should hold,” he stated because the silence suddenly felt all-consuming and it was then that his eyes met Kakashi’s, which were fixed on him, on his face, with no regard for how the stitches had turned out. “How do they feel?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi blinked as if awakening from a dream. He glanced at the stitches and moved his shoulder to test them. “Good,” he replied.

Iruka nodded and turned away again. The curved needle ended up on the pile of antiseptic wipes and the unused thread returned to the first aid kit. “I have some antibacterial ointment in here,” he said, trying for a conversational tone but failing as his throat was terribly dry. He found the tub of ointment and turned back to Kakashi, who was still eyeing the stitches. “I can apply some for you,” Iruka offered, drawing Kakashi’s attention back to himself. “Or- or you can do it yourself.”

Kakashi’s intense gaze rested on him for a moment. His cheeks had taken on a healthy hue at some point and he replied in a carefully even tone, “I’d rather you do it.”

Iruka failed to tear his gaze away at the admission. His heart was pounding in his chest and he nodded. “Alright.” He finally managed to look away at the tub and unscrewed its lid. He scooped some of the cool ointment onto his index and middle finger before once again leaning into Kakashi’s personal space. He swallowed before reaching out to the stitched wound. He started at the end closer to Kakashi’s shoulder and began to apply the ointment. He felt the bumps of the thread under his fingertips as he worked, thinking again on how he had put them there, how they were going to help this wound heal.

“You work very delicately,” Kakashi observed with a low tone of voice after Iruka had covered half of the injury. “You don’t have to. I won’t break, sensei,” he added, the last few words a breathy whisper.

“No need to hurt you when I can be gentle,” Iruka said honestly and he continued to look at his work as his words charged the air around them with something new. The comment elicited a barely audible hitched breath from Kakashi that Iruka pretended not to notice but already knew he was never going to forget the sound of.

He finished applying the ointment and forced himself to draw back from Kakashi’s skin. Heart pounding, face hot and throat tight he couldn’t bear to look at Kakashi’s face, too scared of making eye contact. The first aid kit proved to be a merciful distraction yet again. Iruka wiped the residual ointment off his hands with a towel before closing the tub and putting it back. “I’m going to bandage it now,” he said because he felt he had to say something.

He took a roll of bandages and turned around to Kakashi once more. He avoided Kakashi’s eyes as he tried to determine the best way to wrap the wound. He went over it several times in his head but kept coming to the same conclusion. “It’s going to have to go around your torso to cover everything. Is that okay?” It wasn’t how Kakashi had wrapped his wound before but his own wrapping had been pretty bad.

“Yeah,” Kakashi said.

“Lean forward for me,” Iruka instructed and Kakashi complied, leaning away from the back of the chair to give Iruka better access. Iruka swallowed. Starting at the cut, he began to wrap the gauze around Kakashi’s body. He completed the first loop and he brushed his hand over the fresh bandages to smooth them out. He tried to ignore the heat he once again felt through the fabric and the way he could almost memorize the shapes his fingers encountered on their path. Kakashi didn’t move a muscle as Iruka leaned over and reached around him to wind the bandages around his body. The roll unspooled further and further as more and more of Kakashi’s skin became covered.

Iruka was intensely focused on the feeling of his hand brushing over a bandaged torso, on the way he was almost hugging Kakashi when reaching around his back, on the closeness and on how Iruka wouldn’t have had to move far – less than the distance of a single breath – to taste that skin. To feel it against his lips, his tongue. In the crook of Kakashi’s neck, or along the line of his jaw.

He lost track of his own movements as that image became more and more prominent in his mind so that by the time he was holding the end of the bandage, the spool fully unraveled, he was almost surprised that he was done. He caught himself, though, and wondered how long he had taken as he tightened the bandages and then tucked away the end to secure them before forcing himself to draw back and leave the heat of Kakashi’s body behind.

Only then did Kakashi move, leaning back in the chair. He looked down at his freshly bandaged chest and brushed over the gauze with his own hand. One would have thought it a measure of inspection, but the reverence with which he traced the white lines seemed unfitting for that.

“Thank you,” Kakashi said and the statement, though innocuous, sounded far heavier than it had any right to.

“Sure,” Iruka replied, trying to sound normal about all of it. “Any other wounds I should know about?”

“Just a few scrapes and bruises,” Kakashi reported as he continued to look at the bandages. Then he looked up. “Nothing that requires your attention.”

“Do you still feel lightheaded?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi’s gaze lingered on him. “Maybe a little.”

Iruka nodded. He hesitated, wondering briefly how much more he could get away with in this situation. He was helping Kakashi, but really, it felt like he was helping himself just as much if not more. “Can you reveal your left eye to me?”

Kakashi didn’t do anything for a moment, but then he reached up slowly and pushed up the slanted half of his forehead protector, revealing the Sharingan. It struck Iruka as he took in the startling shade of red, that he’d never actually seen one up close like this. It was mesmerizing, its color vibrant and bright and the lazily spinning tomoe almost hypnotic. Iruka stared for a moment as for the first time, Kakashi’s full gaze rested upon him. Mismatched eyes taking him in, observing. And Iruka was observing back.

He drank in the sight, forbidden as it felt, for only a moment. Then he gathered himself and looked between the dark grey eye and the Sharingan more critically, assessing movement and the size of the pupils. “Your eyes look normal, as much as I can tell with the Sharingan,” Iruka said. He stared a bit longer although it really wasn’t necessary anymore. Kakashi didn’t look away, either. “Do you have any other symptoms? Headache? Or nausea?”

“No, sensei,” Kakashi replied. “Maybe a little feverish.”

Iruka exhaled slowly. “Feverish?” He certainly felt it, too. His eyes darted up to Kakashi’s forehead several times as he considered and there was no way Kakashi didn’t notice. Iruka knew what he wanted to do. His hand twitched. And he was powerless to stop it from reaching up, gently pushing up Kakashi’s forehead protector a little further into his hair and coming to rest on his forehead. Iruka’s heart was in his throat. Kakashi’s face was red. Iruka opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He worked his jaw, pressed his lips together and cleared his throat before he managed to speak. “Feels alright. No fever.”

“Huh,” Kakashi acknowledged, absent-mindedly, as if the information was about someone else.

Iruka removed his palm reluctantly and immediately missed the warmth it had been pressed against. “You’re probably just a little exhausted.”

Kakashi nodded. “That must be it.”

They continued to stare at each other. Iruka suppressed the urge to wet his lips. As the silence between them stretched out, Iruka felt himself drawn closer and closer to doing something stupid. But then it occurred to him that regular exhaustion was probably not the only thing Kakashi was suffering from.

“You can cover your eye again. Should, even.”

“Right.” Kakashi reached up and pulled his forehead protector back down, first covering the part that Iruka had revealed and then slanting it down to cover the Sharingan that Kakashi had revealed himself.

Iruka took the opportunity to avert his eyes again to rid himself of whatever madness had taken hold of him. He turned away from Kakashi to get himself back under control, trying to collect his errant thoughts. Kakashi was injured and exhausted. This was not the moment to be staring at him and getting ideas. “I know you don’t want to,” Iruka said as he busied himself with repacking the first aid kit properly, “but please go to the hospital if there’s any trouble with the wound. Or any other symptoms.”

“Alright, sensei. Thank you,” Kakashi said and Iruka heard him get up from his chair, most likely taking Iruka’s instruction as dismissal.

“Honestly, you might want to go there anyway. A proper medic-nin could have taken way better care of that than I did,” Iruka added.

Iruka heard Kakashi stop moving as he stood behind him. For a moment he said nothing. He just stood there and Iruka felt his own heartbeat thrumming away in his chest. Then, quietly, as if making a confession, Kakashi muttered, “I’m glad it was you.”

Iruka’s grip on the first aid kit tightened. He was keenly aware of Kakashi’s presence, right behind him. Less than an arm’s reach away. For a moment, Iruka imagined Kakashi closing that distance and wrapping his arms around him. But Iruka shook his head lightly to dislodge those thoughts from his head, reminding himself that Kakashi was hurt. Needed rest. Needed to not be the subject of Iruka’s ridiculous fantasies. “Well, don’t make a habit out of having me stitch you up,” Iruka said, aiming for levity. “I’d rather you return without any flesh wounds for once.”

A pause hung in the air. “Of course,” Kakashi finally said. And then Iruka heard the movement of fabric as Kakashi began to redress himself. Iruka stayed resolutely facing away, not daring to watch that exposed upper body move any more than he had to.

Iruka kept repacking the first aid kit to keep himself busy until the movement behind him died down again after the sound of a zipper being pulled up. Once again, Kakashi was just standing there, lingering.

“I guess I’ll be off then. I still have to write a report,” he said. But there was something in his tone of voice that was hesitant. Iruka didn’t know what it was.

“You should probably get some rest first,” Iruka replied without turning around. For some reason, turning back to face Kakashi had become an insurmountable challenge. Even though he was no doubt dressed at this point.

“Right, I’ll do that.” Kakashi paused. “Thank you. And sorry for imposing.”

That gave Iruka the encouragement he needed to finally look at his friend. Kakashi was indeed fully dressed again. His hands were in his pockets and he seemed to try to affect nonchalance while being tense. “You’re my friend, Kakashi-san,” Iruka said, “You’re never an imposition.”

Kakashi hummed. “Have a good evening, Iruka-sensei.”

“You too.”

And in the blink of an eye, Kakashi was gone.

For a moment, Iruka stared at the empty spot where Kakashi had been a few seconds ago as he tried to will his body to finally cool down and for his heartbeat to return to a normal pace. Then he tried to push away the very vivid and fresh memory of Kakashi’s upper body and the way it had felt under his fingertips.

It was only when Iruka returned the first aid kit to its place that something occurred to him:

He had no idea why Kakashi had come over in the first place.

Chapter Text

Present day

The next day, Kakashi woke up in a good mood.

He hadn’t woken up that way in months, maybe longer. But this day, as soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered his evening plans and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

He carried those high spirits to work but tried his best to keep them to himself. He had no intention of letting on that anything was out of the ordinary. Someone probably would have asked him about it. Fortunately, he had years of not properly displaying his emotions under his belt to aid him. Leaving any signs of his inner workings to be discerned only by the keenest of minds.

“You’re in a good mood,” Shikamaru observed.

“Huh? Am I?” Kakashi asked as they walked through the Tower side by side. “I didn’t even notice.”

Shikamaru honored that statement with nothing more than a flat look. Kakashi waited for a moment to see whether another question or acknowledgment followed, but Shikamaru, reliably disinterested in personal affairs whenever he could afford to be, said nothing.

“So, about the body,” Kakashi spoke up. They were just on their way back from the morgue where they had received a full report of the autopsy of the missing nin’s corpse that Sai’s team had brought back. “What does it tell us?”

“Well, according to the report, literally nothing,” Shikamaru replied. “Which means she was probably a foot soldier in the whole operation. And these people have means of reliably erasing information.”

Kakashi nodded. “I agree. It’s unusual for a report to be this disappointing. Means that whoever she was or whoever this group is, they know how to make sure that no information gets into enemy hands.”

“It’s a bit annoying that none of the tests yielded any results.”

“Annoying and uncanny.” Kakashi sighed. “We’ll just have to hope that Naruto and Sai are successful on their mission.”

“And that whatever information they return with ends up being actually useful,” Shikamaru, ever the realist, added.

“That, too.”

They turned a corner in the hallway on the way to their respective offices and both of them stopped in their tracks. Koharu was standing there. Waiting.

“Kakashi,” she said immediately upon seeing him. The way she spoke his name was dripping with displeasure. Koharu and Homura always sounded vaguely displeased when they spoke – probably the result of being bitter old bastards – but the current level of disdain in her voice and the way her face contorted as she looked at him were above average.

“Koharu-sama,” he greeted respectfully, because as much as he continued to hate the politics and the playing-nice of it all, he had to do his best not to provoke the elders’ ire too much.

She looked at Shikamaru. “You can go, Shikamaru-kun. I need to speak with the Rokudaime alone.”

Shikamaru hesitated at Kakashi’s side and shot him a questioning look. He only excused himself when Kakashi gave him a permitting nod, walking past Koharu to disappear into his office.

“Should we speak in a more private location?” Kakashi asked once Shikamaru was gone. He had more than a hunch about what he was being cornered about and if he was correct, he really didn’t need anyone listening in.

“I think that would be best,” she agreed.

As she walked past him to take the lead, Kakashi wondered why she hadn’t just come to his office instead of lingering about like this. He supposed that she couldn’t do her powerplay quite as well while he was sitting in the spot designated for the leader of the village.

She led them to the small council chamber. Kakashi wasn’t surprised to find Homura inside, waiting for them. Koharu and Homura tended to be a package deal.

“Homura-sama,” Kakashi acknowledged as he closed the door. “I didn’t realize that this was going to be a council meeting. I have an appointment soon, so I unfortunately don’t have too much time,” he explained. To underline his point, he didn’t take a seat as they were clearly expecting him to. They may not have had any respect for his autonomy, but they had to respect his duties as Hokage.

“Have you given any further thought to what we discussed?” Koharu asked, ignoring his warning and his defiant position by the door as she took her usual seat beside Homura. It was then that Kakashi’s gaze fell onto the low table in front of them. A closed folder sat on top of it. There was no label but the sight of it made Kakashi uneasy.

“A little,” he said, not untruthfully but also knowing that he hadn’t thought about it the way they wanted him to.

“Hm.” Koharu’s displeased frown grew. “Well, we wanted to talk to you about that. Sit down.”

“I told you, I don’t have much time.”

“Enough time for this. Sit,” Koharu repeated.

Kakashi didn’t sigh or roll his eyes the way he wanted to. There was no point in arguing, especially since he was probably going to be arguing a lot of other things very soon. He sat down opposite of them. “I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he said honestly. “You’ve made your intentions and your position very clear.”

“Yes, well,” Homura spoke up, “don’t think that we don’t know about your reservations. We’ve been imploring you to think about having heirs for years.”

Kakashi suppressed a shudder. “And I was a jōnin on active field duty for most of them.”

“We are aware of that,” Koharu replied. “But that is not the case anymore, as you well know. You are now in a position where marriage and children are very realistic. Overdue, even. You are not getting any younger, Kakashi. You cannot keep pushing this matter away for years and years. Eventually, it might be too late to find someone who will take you.”

“If I want to find someone like that,” Kakashi pointed out.

“Konoha has lost too many of clan blood during the war,” Homura said. “The survival of the Hatake line has always been a concern. But even more so now that other clans have been weakened as well.”

“I know what impact the war had,” Kakashi insisted, crossing his arms. “And I told you: I will think about this.”

“Well, perhaps this will help,” Koharu said ominously and Homura finally shoved the unmarked folder across the table.

“What is this?” Kakashi asked without picking it up.

“Information about your heritage.”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at the folder.

Koharu regarded him. “Have you ever taken the time to investigate your bloodline after your father’s unfortunate passing?”

Kakashi quietly breathed through the pang of rage that her phrasing shot through his gut. “Not really.”

“Well, you should take a look at it. You were rather young at the time. There are probably a lot of things you don’t know about your own clan and its legacy.”

Kakashi eyed the folder. Its mere existence made him want to leave. As a child, after his father had died, he’d wanted to distance himself from him and any legacy attached to him as much as possible. Then, after Obito and Kannabi bridge, he had felt that he had hacked away at that connection too much to ever go look for any information. And eventually, the matter had slipped his mind altogether. Where he came from and what a dying clan had once been had never mattered to him.

He’d made peace with the extinction of his clan a long time ago. Any clan virtues or traditions that his father had instilled in him were hazy memories at best.

“Your father probably would have told you these things eventually, if he’d had more time,” Homura added.

“Probably,” Kakashi agreed, keeping his tone neutral. He saw through the game the elders were trying to play. They could tell that he had no interest in producing any heirs or having a family so they hoped to demonstrate that his genes and name had value. Perhaps if they seemed valuable enough, Kakashi was going to bend to the elders’ will. Perhaps reading about his ancestors was going to make him feel guilty enough to keep the name alive. Well, Kakashi had to stay diplomatic but he didn’t have to play stupid. “How come you’ve never given this to me before? My father has been gone for almost three decades.”

“It’s not our job to make sure you know your family’s history,” Koharu said, her tone just shy of scoffing. “But we would be remiss to let your unnatural disinterest in your clan go unaddressed at this point. We realize that you were not given the opportunity to hear about its better days and are seeking to remedy that.”

Kakashi couldn’t tell whether she was lying through her teeth, trying to sell an attempt at emotional blackmail as kindness, or whether she genuinely believed this to be some kind of good deed. Not that it mattered. “I’ll take a look at it,” Kakashi conceded and picked up the folder. Refusal was pointless. “When I have the time. Is that all?”

“Yes,” Homura said and Kakashi immediately stood up. “We do hope that you will make time for this soon. We’ve already looked into options for you, but we cannot move forward like this. And you understand that, the sooner this is all handled, the better it is for everyone involved.”

“Like I said: I will look at it when I find the time,” Kakashi said curtly before turning toward the door. Without another word, he left.

He walked back to his office at a brisk pace, anger simmering under his skin. Once he was alone, he considered the folder in his hands. If they had wanted to manipulate him, the least they could have done was to try to be subtle about it. Kakashi didn’t know whether he was going to look at what was inside of this folder. But what he did know was that he wasn’t going to do it right then and risk ruining his mood any further. Iruka deserved an evening unburdened by Kakashi’s troubles and Kakashi was going to deliver.

He stalked over to his desk, opened a drawer and dumped the folder inside unceremoniously before shutting the drawer with a bang. He probably wasn’t going to get around reading it. Eventually, he needed to know what the elders were so adamant to show him if only to know the position he was negotiating from. But not that day.

That day was reserved for something special.

-

Iruka was bustling around his apartment.

It was evening. He’d spent the entire day in eager anticipation, theorizing about what the night was going to have in store. He’d kept looking at the clock in his classroom again and again – outdoing even his most bored students. Kakashi had refused to tell him any details the night before. All Iruka knew was to expect him showing up in a henge.

Iruka was dressed in his normal shinobi uniform – he couldn’t risk drawing attention, after all, but he made sure to look as neat as he could. He finished rigorously brushing his hair as he moved about the apartment and peered out of the window as he fiddled with his hair tie.

Outside, the sky had already darkened and the night was brimming with possibility.

Kakashi could get very creative and Iruka couldn’t wait to see what he’d planned. He had discovered over the course of their relationship that Kakashi was something of a romantic at heart. He just never displayed that side of himself to anyone else because there was neither opportunity nor a reason to do so.

As Iruka tugged at his ponytail to get the hair tie into place, he wondered, perhaps a bit prematurely, whether this was going to be the start of a new chapter in their relationship. One where they took a few more risks to escape the walls of his apartment. One where they could have just a little more of what other couples had. The thought made his heart flutter.

Iruka returned to his bathroom to look himself over in the mirror. He really would have preferred wearing something more date-like than his uniform, but it was a minor concern. He took out the bottle of nice cologne that he rarely ever used and dabbed some on. Not too much because Kakashi had a ridiculously sensitive nose, but just enough to incentivise him to bury his face in the crook of Iruka’s neck.

He looked as presentable as he was going to get and was all around ready. All that was left was for his date to make his appearance. Restless energy took hold of Iruka’s legs and he began to pace. There was a decent chance that Kakashi was going to be late. Not because of tardiness, carelessness or intention – he always did his best to be on time for Iruka – but because any number of emergencies or other work-related events could crop up out of nowhere to steal his time. It was just another obstacle that Kakashi and him had to deal with.

But that night, they got lucky.

There was a knock on Iruka’s front door not a second too late. Iruka hurried over, slipping his shoes on in the process. He took a deep breath, suddenly nervous as if this was a first date, and opened the door.

An unfamiliar face was looking at him. In front of him was a man, dressed in the standard Konoha shinobi uniform. He was of a medium build and height. His hair was short and dark brown. His eyes were dark, as well, perhaps brown or grey or a dark green. Least notable of all were his facial features. Somehow, it was the plainest, most unmemorable face imaginable. So nondescript that it defied words. Yet, not strangely so as if to draw attention with its oddness.

Iruka knew at once that it could be no other than Kakashi. Kakashi had an unparalleled way of making his transformations unmemorable. It had to be him.

“Good evening,” said Iruka. He smiled warmly at the ‘stranger’ for just a moment before schooling his expression into something more neutral.

“Iruka-sensei,” said the stranger in an unfamiliar voice of an average register with a perfectly fine enunciation and neutral tone. “I am here to bring you to an assignment. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” Iruka said and he stepped outside. As he pulled the door shut behind himself, he felt nervousness coursing through his body. He looked around. None of his neighbors were to be seen and the few people milling about the street paid him no mind.

“Good,” the ‘stranger’ said. He looked at Iruka for a long moment before turning. “Follow me, then.” He walked into the direction of the stairs.

Iruka was surprised, he had expected them to take to the rooftops immediately to get to wherever they needed to go. But he followed without complaint. Iruka subtly observed the ‘stranger’ as he walked a few paces ahead of him. Not even his gait or posture gave anything away. They only walked on ground level for a little while. Iruka glanced at everyone who passed them by but of the few people around, no one seemed even remotely interested in them.

As soon as they left Iruka’s neighborhood, the ‘stranger’ slipped into an alleyway before turning to Iruka to meet his eyes and leaping gracefully onto the next roof.

Iruka smiled to himself and jumped to follow him. And then they were off.

The ‘stranger’ jumped onto the next roof and the next, leading Iruka at a brisk pace that was nothing for a shinobi. Iruka kept a close eye on his surroundings to make sure they weren’t being observed and to determine where they were going. But wherever it was, the ‘stranger’ didn’t take a direct route there. Instead, he gave the areas that were most likely to be busy this time of night a wide berth. He also gave Iruka hand signals. To follow, to wait, to stay.

It felt clandestine, sticking to the shadows in the cold night air, crouching down low on the edges of rooftops until a passerby below was gone. It felt thrilling.

Unobserved and cloaked in darkness, Iruka smiled as he looked at the back of the ‘stranger’. It was then that he finally noticed where they were headed: Hokage rock.

The ‘stranger’ glanced over his shoulder and Iruka cocked an eyebrow with interest. The ‘stranger’ looked away again. Iruka kept pace easily and soon enough they reached the cliffside. The ‘stranger’ didn’t stop. With a single, almost majestic leap, he jumped onto the rock surface, attaching himself to it with chakra to begin making his ascent. Iruka jumped after him once again. They made their way upwards with ease, each finding their own ledges and protrusions to push themselves higher and higher. As Iruka flew up past the chin of Godaime’s earthen face, he noticed that the ‘stranger’ had disappeared.

In his place was the silver-haired, fine-featured vision that was Kakashi. Their gazes met. Iruka smiled. They continued their way up, sometimes crossing paths in the middle of the air, sometimes jumping in parallel. They danced ever further upwards until they both landed on the edge of the cliff overseeing nighttime Konoha. It was quiet up there and no one was around except for them.

“Oh, Kakashi-san. Fancy meeting you here,” Iruka teased with a sly grin.

Kakashi’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Likewise, Iruka-sensei.”

For a moment, Iruka wondered whether they had arrived at their destination as his gaze swept over their village. The skyline of Konoha had grown since he’d last been up here. The dark shapes of buildings housed illuminated windows. A sea of them, shining brightly below. And above, on a cloudless night, hung the moon, round, nearly-full, a silver plate of light, surrounded by a riot of stars of different sizes. Iruka looked at Kakashi, whose hair shone in the moonlight, who looked as though he was made of it.

“I was planning on going a little further, sensei. If you’d care to join me?”

“Why not? I just so happen to be free tonight.”

Another spark lit up in Kakashi’s eyes. “Lucky me.”

Kakashi took off again and Iruka followed. They left the cliffside, the faces and the view of the village behind as they entered the dense treeline. Kakashi jumped up onto a branch and Iruka followed suit, leaping into the tree beside him. They then moved forward quickly, from tree to tree. Iruka watched Kakashi closely as he vaulted through the air, sometimes landing on a branch with his hands and pushing himself further just because he could. His body twisted gracefully in unnecessary, yet very impressive acrobatics and Iruka suspected it was a combination of showing off for him and spreading the wings Kakashi normally had to keep still these days.

Iruka admired the show without comment. There was a part of Kakashi that seemed to belong to the field, moving and free.

Eventually, Kakashi began to slow and Iruka slowed down with him. As he looked ahead, he noticed that there was some unnatural light shining from between the trees. A warm, golden glow that defied the silver gleam from the sky. The closer they drew, the brighter it seemed to become.

Kakashi dropped down to the ground and Iruka landed beside him. Kakashi looked at him with a smile, glanced around and wordlessly took Iruka’s hand into his. Iruka’s heart pounded and something in his stomach fluttered as their hands connected and he held on tight in return. He noticed the dusting of pink high on Kakashi’s cheekbones and realized that he must be feeling it, too – the excitement of holding hands under the free night sky.

They turned their attention back ahead and Kakashi started walking forward, gently tugging Iruka along. They wove through the trees, seemingly getting ever closer to the source of the light and finally, the forest opened up in front of them. Iruka stared.

They stood at the edge of a grassy clearing, illuminated by a field of candle-lit lanterns merrily flickering away and painting everything in their warm, comforting glow. In their middle was a dark blanket, spread out across the ground and looking ever so inviting. And above it all, the dense canopy of trees built a circle to frame the clear night sky with its infinity of stars shining and glimmering. There was no sound except for the wind. Iruka’s heart soared.

“You set this up?” Iruka asked quietly, reverently, as if speaking too loudly was going to disturb the scene and end it all.

“I did.”

“It’s beautiful,” Iruka said earnestly, still staring and drinking it all in, wishing to commit it to memory forever.

“Maa, it’s not much,” Kakashi hedged. His grip around Iruka’s hand tensed. “I need to ask you a favor. Could you check whether there’s anyone around?”

“Of course,” Iruka replied without hesitation. He closed his eyes and listened. And visualized. There was the beautiful clearing in front of him, the dense forest surrounding it. The rustling treetops, the quiet little forest creatures, Kakashi’s breathing and his beating heart beside him and there, further away- “Your ninken?”

“Ah, right. I’m having them do a perimeter check. They’ll leave when they’re done.”

Iruka smiled. “Good idea.”

“No one should be coming here tonight, I checked all currently running out-of-village missions and no one has gone in this direction. I also did my best to set up an invisible barrier around the perimeter using barrier seal tags. It alerts me if a new person enters the area,” Kakashi explained.

Iruka smirked. “Barrier seals, huh?”

Kakashi blushed. “Very rudimentary ones. I’ll thank you not to go looking for them to criticize my handiwork.”

Iruka snickered. “Don’t worry. ‘Leaving’ is not exactly what I had in mind just now.” Iruka stepped forwards, into the clearing, pulling along Kakashi by his hand.

Kakashi followed easily. “Like I said: It’s not much. And still secluded and away from everything... But I hope that you like it.”

Iruka looked around as he stepped through the sea of light. “It’s wonderful, Kakashi.”

Looking back at his boyfriend revealed Kakashi’s blush to have deepened at the praise which only made Iruka smile more.

“I’m surprised you had the time to set this up.”

“Ah, a shadow clone helped. Really, they were very useful in this whole endeavor. There’s one minding the office right now.”

“Won’t your ANBU notice that he’s a clone?”

Kakashi shrugged. “It’s worked at the Residence so far. And if they did notice, they dutifully stayed behind regardless, so it’s not a problem.” They reached the blanket. “But enough about that. Shall we sit down?”

Iruka nodded and guided them both to sit down on the blanket. He noticed that it was surprisingly plush under his palms, touching it almost felt like a caress.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Kakashi said as he produced a scroll from his pouch.

“I could eat,” Iruka said. He’d skipped dinner in anticipation that they were probably going to be eating something together.

“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Kakashi replied. He rolled out the scroll on top of the blanket and made a hand sign to release its contents. A picnic basket materialized in the center of it.

Iruka looked at the basket. “You know, you could have just asked me to get some food. You didn’t have to do everything yourself.”

Kakashi hummed as he moved the picnic basket away from the scroll. “I suppose you could have. But if you had, then I wouldn’t have gotten to do this for you. And I very much like doing things for you, Iruka.” Kakashi met his eyes as he put the scroll away.

Iruka held his gaze. “Alright then. But I’ll take care of next time.”

Kakashi’s eyes brightened. “I’ll hold you to that.” He opened the picnic basket and Iruka peered inside curiosly as Kakashi started to pull different things out of it. He spread out an assortment of dishes over the blanket beside them, creating a veritable feast. Onigiri, korokke, edamame, yakitori, rice and dango.

“I really, really hope you didn’t make all of this yourself,” Iruka contemplated out loud as he watched Kakashi move the plates around for optimal access.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t have that kind of time, not even with a clone,” Kakashi admitted as he added small empty plates and chopsticks to the blanket. “I guess I could have sent out Shikamaru-kun to get some of these things, but he’s been busy.”

“How dare he,” Iruka joked.

“My thoughts exactly. Godaime had Shizune-san going on regular alcohol runs and I can’t even make my assistant assemble a picnic blanket.” Kakashi sighed dramatically. “Anyway, I sent out a clone for this, too. In disguise, of course. So I actually didn’t make any of it. But it is all from pretty good places, so it should be okay. Oh, and speaking of Tsunade-sama’s alcohol consumption...” He pulled out a bottle and held it out to Iruka.

Iruka took it and stared at it. The bottle was curved in a very unique way. Through the glass, Iruka could see honey-colored liquid and a handful of plums resting at the bottom. A golden decorative label adorned the front, shimmering in the light of the lanterns. The characters of the branding were a deep red. And as Iruka interpreted them, his eyes grew wide. “This is- Kakashi, this is insane.”

Kakashi just smiled. “I hear this is Tsunade-sama’s preferred brand. For occasions, at least. I don’t think she cares too much about quality when it comes to everyday consumption.”

Iruka looked at Kakashi. “Please tell me you just had this on hand.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “You think I have an alcohol stash?”

“Leftovers from Tsunade-sama?” Iruka pleaded.

Kakashi snorted. “I think this is the last thing she would have left behind. No, I had my shadow clone procure this.”

“I can’t drink this,” Iruka said and held the bottle back out to Kakashi, who simply cocked his head at it.

“We’ve had plum wine before.”

“Not plum wine like this! I don’t even want to know how many Academy paychecks we’d be drinking away!”

“Lucky for you, I won’t tell you,” Kakashi chimed. “I figured it was a nice reminder of... well, you know.” Kakashi paused. “If you’re really uncomfortable, we don’t have to open it and I can return it tomorrow. Or find some other use for it.”

Iruka considered the bottle again.

“But do think about how long I’ve gotten around paying for dates. And also that I don’t have to pay rent for the Hokage Residence. Or pay several other things, honestly. And I still have savings from all those S-ranks I used to take. And there’s the Hatake clan money-”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Iruka shook his head. “I’ll open it up, you ridiculous man.”

Iruka opened the bottle with a ceremonial plop as Kakashi produced a pair of drinking glasses from the picnic basket. He held both of them out and Iruka poured, careful not to waste a single drop of the amber liquid. He then replaced the stopper in the bottleneck before putting the bottle aside and accepting one of the glasses from Kakashi. They stared at each other for a moment and then raised their drinks to toast. The rims of their glasses clinked softly as they met.

Kakashi pulled down his mask and Iruka was utterly captivated by how his fair skin looked illuminated by the lantern light. Those fiery colors all around them created art on Kakashi, collided with his hair, gold meeting silver, and giving life to little bright flecks of light in his dark irises.

Before Kakashi, Iruka had thought that infatuation – that all-consuming, overwhelming feeling of want and admiration and desire – was a temporary thing, a precursor to a relationship, or perhaps a staring point. Something destined to fade away as time marched on and the complexities of life caught up with a couple. A temporary madness. But it didn’t fade. It changes, yes, it was a volatile thing. Sometimes it came in waves, crashing and dominating, sometimes it ebbed, leaving a lingering warmth, and sometimes it rushed Iruka out of nowhere, flooding all of him and filling every corner of his being. But it was never truly gone.

Right now, his infatuation with Kakashi flared to life, loud and vibrant and raw.

Kakashi held his glass to his lips and tilted it and Iruka stared with utter fascination as his throat moved when he swallowed, even though he’d seen it a thousand times. He observed the way Kakashi’s eyes closed as he savored the taste, light lashes fanning over faintly pink cheeks. Kakashi pulled the glass away from his mouth and Iruka saw new moisture glistening on his lips and he wanted to lean over and lick it away.

Instead, he took a drink himself to reel in his errant thoughts which were hellbent on derailing this evening before it had even begun.

“I’m glad we’re here,” Kakashi said as he looked at the wine in his glass, seemingly oblivious to Iruka’s torrent of affection and arousal. “I’m sorry that we didn’t do it sooner. I’ve been holding us back.”

The apology cooled some of the heat underneath Iruka’s skin. “Don’t apologize. We have to be careful, I know that. Besides, you have a lot more to do than I do. If anyone could have been working on this, it would have been me.” Iruka reached out to place his hand on Kakashi’s forearm. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”

Kakashi looked back at him. “You’re right. So.” Kakashi cleared his throat, adorably at a loss for what to say. “I don’t really know what to talk about on a real date, I guess. Tell me about your day?”

Iruka beamed. “Of course.”

And he did. He talked about some of the mischief caused by his students and highlighted a very insightful comment he’d heard from one of the quietest kids. Then, he regaled Kakashi with a story about a student who was a whole 90 minutes late citing the current Hokage as his inspiration for tardiness which made Kakashi laugh out loud. As Iruka spoke, he noticed himself and Kakashi relaxing gradually. There had been a tension there that Iruka hadn’t been aware of until it was fading – a fear. Of being here. Together. But with each minute that passed and each word they shared, that fear receded, leaving comfort in its wake.

As they talked, they enjoyed the food that Kakashi had brought. They frequently handed each other plates and urged each other to ‘try this’ or ‘have another one of those’ in between stories. And it was so easy, then, to behave as if this was commonplace. As if it wasn’t risky, at all.

Kakashi shared his own stories about his day – mostly complaining about paperwork – and Iruka wanted to pause this moment to treasure it and live in it forever. Here, on the blanket, where Kakashi wasn’t Hokage and Iruka wasn’t an Academy instructor. Where they were just Kakashi and Iruka and they didn’t have to hide from or appease anybody and they could just be.

Eventually, they were both sated and cleared away the plates and leftovers, returning them to the picnic basket. Only the bottle of plum wine and the pair of half-filled glasses remained out in the open, sitting in the grass beside the blanket. Kakashi and Iruka were quiet as Iruka tucked the last plate into the basket and looking back at Kakashi revealed him to be gazing up at the sky.

Iruka smiled and put the basket aside before sitting close to Kakashi, close enough that their sides were pressed together.

“It’s beautiful,” Iruka said quietly.

“It is,” Kakashi agreed. He then looked at Iruka, instead. “We’re done with the food. Do you want to go home?”

“No,” Iruka replied easily without a second thought.

“Me neither.”

So they didn’t. Instead, they remained like that for a bit, sides pressed together. Iruka’s head came to rest on Kakashi’s shoulder and Kakashi took Iruka’s hand. After a few minutes of quiet companionship, Kakashi asked whether Iruka wanted to get comfortable. And so they laid down on the soft blanket together. Kakashi took off his flak jacket so that Iruka could comfortably pillow his head on his chest and Iruka took off his own to feel as much of Kakashi’s warmth as he could. Kakashi put one arm behind his head. The other came to wrap around Iruka. Eventually, their forehead protectors were cast aside for the sake of comfort as well.

They stayed like that for a while, mostly in silence. All they traded where the occasional hushed words about this and that, about which star was the brightest, about what constellations Kakashi could remember and point out, about Iruka’s favorite legend about the moon. Slowly, one by one, the lanterns began to go out around them, casting them further into the darkness of the night until all that remained was the light from the round moon and the smattering of white starts far above them. The night grew colder then and they huddled closer together, taking the edges of the blanket and wrapping it around themselves.

Silence reigned for a while, making space for the rushing of the wind through the sea of treetops around them and the occasional rustling coming from the underbrush as animals made their presence known.

When one of them spoke, it was Kakashi, speaking a question into the night air that Iruka never could have expected.

“If we could, would you marry me?”

Iruka’s whole body grew tense at once. “What?” He sat up on the blanket to look at Kakashi’s face. “What did you say?”

Kakashi was still staring at the stars but then his gaze came to rest on Iruka. “I asked if you would marry me. If that’s something we could actually do.”

Iruka swallowed. His body temperature was suddenly all over the place. “I heard you but- Are you- Did you just propose to me?”

Kakashi blinked, looking far too nonplussed about the subject he’d just invited into their night. “I can’t really propose something that we can’t do. I was just asking you a question. Because I want to know the answer.”

Overwhelmed, Iruka opened his mouth to argue bringing up something of that magnitude out of nowhere. But he found he had nothing to say. Kakashi thinking about such things made something warm blossom in his chest. And he was right, it was a fruitless thought either way. He laid back down again and Kakashi welcomed him back with his arm. “Is that something you would want?” Iruka asked back, mind still reeling too much to have a good answer himself.

There was a pause and then, “Yeah. I think I would.” Kakashi’s arm tightened around Iruka’s form. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re together. But if we could I think.... I think I would like that.”

The words were quiet, hesitant. Unsure, even, as if Kakashi was afraid that it wasn’t the right thing to say. Iruka ran his palm over Kakashi’s chest to offer reassurance and comfort. “I think I would like that too,” he said and tilted his head to look at Kakashi’s face.

Kakashi was already looking back at him. Something powerful and affectionate danced in his eyes. “I’m glad.”

Iruka smiled before settling down on his chest again. He still felt the sudden burst of energy from the question. Images came to mind, of Kakashi in wedding garments. Of both of them, holding hands in front of their loved ones, making a promise of eternity to one another. Thinking that Kakashi may have imagined the same thing felt indescribable. But the thought also prodded at an old wound that Iruka didn’t want to acknowledge tonight. So he focused on the steady rhythm of Kakashi’s heartbeat in his ear and let it soothe him, casting away the nerves and the worry, leaving only room for peace.

They both slipped into a comfortable silence once again as they laid there together, sharing warmth and affection. At some point, Kakashi’s hand began to caress Iruka’s upper arm, repeatedly moving up and down over his sleeve. Iruka returned the gesture by running his palm over Kakashi’s chest. And it felt only natural to tilt his head to seek Kakashi’s lips.

They found each other and shared a languid kiss, hands still locked in their pattern of caress. Then Kakashi hummed and Iruka moved up a little further to kiss him more easily. He angled his head to allow them to slot together more fully and intimately. One of his legs slotted in between Kakashi’s and their bodies were pressed together as their hands roamed further, seeking skin and closeness. The quiet of the night amplified the soft noises of their kisses and gentle gasps.

“Do you want this?” Kakashi asked in a hushed tone after they parted. He was flushed red and his pupils were huge and dark, drinking in the moonlight. “Here?”

Pleasant heat curled in Iruka’s gut at the question. “Yes,” he breathed into Kakashi’s air and Kakashi shuddered underneath him.

Iruka lifted himself up onto his knees properly, one leg still between Kakashi’s and he pushed his fingertips under the hem of Kakashi’s shirt, stroking the scarred skin. He had his other hand beside Kakashi’s head to prop himself up, hovering just over his lover’s face and watching his expressions.

Kakashi reached up and threaded his fingers through Iruka’s ponytail before cupping the back of his head and pulling him down. This kiss was no longer slow and explorative – it was searing and urgent and sent a surge of heat shooting through Iruka’s body. But he didn’t let this need dominate his actions. Kakashi remained unhurried as well, letting the pull of each other unfold slowly between them. Here, tonight, under the star-studded sky, they were going to take their time.

Wanting more, Iruka began pushing Kakashi’s shirt up, fingers eagerly brushing at the skin he bared to the world. Kakashi ran his free hand down Iruka’s side, reaching further and further until he cupped his ass. He chuckled into their kiss softly as Iruka groaned. They broke apart again and Iruka stared into Kakashi’s eyes as he smirked. His hand began to move downward, brushing over Kakashi’s navel and continuing until it found-

Kakashi’s eyes went wide. He froze.

Iruka stared, immediately alarmed. “What is it?”

“The barrier,” Kakashi choked out. “Someone just came through. Quick.”

There was no time to be shocked, dismayed or overwhelmed, they were moving at once. Kakashi grabbed the stripped pieces of their uniforms as Iruka tried to get the blanket.

“Leave it,” Kakashi said as he wrapped an arm around Iruka’s waist. He body flickered both of them onto a nearby tree on the edge of the clearing where the shadows were going to conceal them. “Cloak your presence,” Kakashi instructed as he handed Iruka his flak jacket and put on his own.

Iruka looked at the flak jacket and then at Kakashi as his heart hammered in his chest. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“My forehead protector.” He looked back out into the clearing. “It’s still over there.”

“Iruka-.”

“I have to get it,” Iruka said and body flickered back onto the clearing before Kakashi could protest. He frantically looked around, searching in the darkened grass for a glint of metal. But seconds after he’d returned, he heard rapidly approaching footsteps. And then-

“Come on, Lee! The Springtime of your Youth knows no difference between Night and Day!”

Seriously?!

“Yes, Gai-sensei!”

Iruka panicked but before he could body flicker back to the safety of the tree, a figure appeared in the dark between the trees. Just then Iruka spotted his forehead protector. But it was too late. The shape drew closer and Iruka quickly made out Lee, carrying a wheelchair-bound Gai on his shoulders as he panted and ran. Faster than anyone carrying a wheelchair and an adult should have been able to.

The pair stopped as they saw him and Iruka’s heart jumped into his throat. He hoped that perhaps the moonlight wasn’t enough to recognize him by.

“Oho! Iruka-sensei! Good evening!” Gai greeted.

“Iruka-sensei!” Lee called. “Are you also out here doing a nighttime run of youth?”

It was a completely sincere question, Iruka knew, even if he was standing on a picnic blanket without his flak jacket or forehead protector in between dozens of unlit lanterns. “Ah, no, Lee-kun, I was just out here, um-.” He looked around. The evidence was pretty damning. Not even Gai and Lee were going to dismiss it once they noticed. “On a picnic.”

Gai hummed loudly in contemplation as he scanned the clearing. Iruka wanted to disappear into the floor. Or into the sky. The situation was obvious. Gai’s sudden grin confirmed that. “Don’t tell me- Did we interrupt a Secret Tryst of Youthful Passion?”

Lee gasped.

Iruka’s face burned. “No, nothing like that! I was just- I thought I’d treat myself to something nice and I- I must have fallen asleep at some point.”

“It’s quite alright, Iruka-sensei,” Gai said. “I am no stranger to the Whims of Wild Passions! You must not hide your Beloved from us!”

If only that would have been the truth.

Lee’s wide eyes and open mouth told him he wasn’t taking it as easily as his mentor did. “Is this why you have been rejecting all the suitors Naruto brought you?”

Did everyone know about that? “No, I’m telling you, it’s not like that.”

“What are you talking about, Lee?” Gai demanded, looking down.

Lee looked up. “Naruto has been trying to set Iruka-sensei up on dates, but so far Iruka-sensei has rejected every partner.”

Gai had the nerve to laugh. “Well, clearly, Iruka-sensei is already deeply involved in a Most Secret Relationship!”

“I’m absolutely not,” Iruka insisted helplessly.

“Don’t worry, sensei!” Gai gave him a thumbs-up. “Your secret is safe with us! We would never stand in the way of a Spirited Union of the Hearts. No endeavor is more noble than that of True Love!”

Lee nodded eagerly.

Iruka was at a loss for words.

“Lee!”

“Yes, Gai-sensei!”

“Did I tell you to stop and take a break?”

Lee looked appalled. “No, Gai-sensei!”

“Then I guess you will have to start over!”

“Yes, Gai-sensei! Have a good night, Iruka-sensei!”

And before Iruka could say anything else, Lee was running off to the tune of Gai’s commands and encouragements.

A moment later, Kakashi appeared beside Iruka. His mask was back up and his forehead protector and flack jacket were back in place. “That was close,” Kakashi assessed, clearly uneasy even if he was trying to conceal it. “I’m sorry. I thought I set the barrier out far enough. I guess I didn’t account for Lee-kun’s speed.”

“It’s hard to account for,” Iruka said numbly, still staring into the direction that Gai and Lee had disappeared into. “Do you think- Do you think they’ll tell someone?”

“Gai and Lee-kun? I doubt it.” Kakashi was looking after them, too. “Gai has been keeping secrets for me for a long time. I’m a bit worried about Lee-kun knowing about Naruto’s schemes... but even then, he’s always been a good kid.”

“Yeah,” Iruka agreed slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. At least they didn’t see you.”

Kakashi looked at the ground and when Iruka turned to him there was shame written across his face. “They shouldn’t have seen you, either. If I’d grabbed everything...”

Iruka stepped closer and cupped Kakashi’s face with his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

Kakashi looked back at him.

“I could have grabbed my things, too. You did what you could.” Iruka gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be okay.”

Kakashi nodded. He looked around. “I guess we should clear away the evidence. Before Lee-kun doubles back for some reason.”

“You’re right,” Iruka agreed. They began to gather everything in silence. They returned the plum wine and glasses to the picnic basket, collected all the lanterns and the blanket and eventually, Kakashi spread out the storage scroll and made everything disappear.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. The silence was no longer companionable and warm. It was uncomfortable. Sharp, with edges one could cut themselves on. Iruka observed Kakashi and the way he carried himself. He could tell that the experience had thoroughly rattled him. More, perhaps, than it had rattled Iruka, in spite of him having been the one to talk to the interlopers.

“It’ll be okay,” Iruka reiterated and took Kakashi’s hand.

Kakashi stared at the connection, his expression pained.

And Iruka understood that if they were going to try something like this in the future, it wasn’t until Kakashi found some additional safety measures. This was not just going to happen again. Iruka’s heart sank at the crushing realization. He desperately wanted to turn back time. Just a little. To go back to when they had been kissing.

“Will you come with me?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi was still staring at their hands. “I want to. But I probably shouldn’t. If someone realizes I’m missing now and Gai or Lee-kun hear about it- It’s too risky. And I still have to remove all the barrier seals.”

“I can help you with that,” Iruka offered.

Kakashi shook his head. “No. It’s late and you’ve got school tomorrow. It’s fine, I could use the time to clear my head.”

Iruka frowned. But he knew when to push and when to leave it be. This wasn’t a moment to push. “Alright.” Iruka squeezed his hand. “For what it’s worth, I had a great time. It was a wonderful date and I’m glad we did this.”

Kakashi finally met his eyes, then. Some of the trouble faded from his expression as it turned a bit softer. “I enjoyed it, too.”

“Well. You should probably get to removing those tags. You need sleep, too.”

Kakashi nodded. “I will. But I- er- I just wanted to say-“ His cheeks reddened. “I love you, Iruka.”

Iruka smiled brightly. He stepped closer and released Kakashi’s hand to pull him into a hug. “And I love you, Kakashi.”

They held each other for just a moment before breaking apart. Kakashi gave him one last lingering look before wishing Iruka a good night and taking off.

Iruka sighed as he watched Kakashi leave.

Suddenly, the air of the night made him shiver. As he stood there by himself, a deep and empty feeling of loneliness made its home in his chest. He swallowed and looked up at the sky, biting back tears of disappointment before he shoved his hands into his pockets and started making his way home.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka was losing his mind. Perhaps certifiably at this point.

Two weeks had gone by since the ‘classroom incident’ – which was how Iruka mentally referred to when he’d given Kakashi sutures – and he’d barely made it a minute without thinking about it. He’d never been prone to spacing out but now it was almost habitual. He stared off into space as his mind dipped into those memories, presenting him with the image of a mouthwatering upper body and the sound of a hitched little breath. Sometimes, his memories even turned into fantasies. Of touching and being close. Of whispers and affections. And shared body heat.

“... so then he said that he didn’t even want the mission, even though he clearly did...”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t all heat and attraction in Iruka’s mind. Immediately after the incident, he had barely been able to get himself under control. He’d gone home with a burning face and a hopeful heart. But over the course of the following days, doubts had clouded his perception. Uncertainty about what Kakashi had felt in the moment, about how much had really happened and how much he’d imagined. These doubts had made him hunch his shoulders in shame and mortification.

“... but he made it out like he was doing me a favor by taking it for some reason ...”

In the moment, Iruka had been dead certain that what had happened had been more than patching someone up. The air had been thick with tension, each time their eyes had met had felt hot and electric. The whole encounter had left him sleeplessly staring at the ceiling in bed that night, blushing and stupid, certain that if Kakashi wasn’t interested, he was at least curious.

“... did you tell him that he wasn’t?” “What? Er....”

But that was banking on the fact that his subjective perception had reflected the truth. And he couldn’t know that. The only fact he had was that Kakashi had asked him for first aid and he had provided it. Every meaningful look and intentionally chosen word may just have been a product of his wishful thinking.

“... but he knew. Right, Iruka?”

Air couldn’t hum. The room temperate couldn’t suddenly increase. Skin contact couldn’t actually be searing hot. All those things had just been what Iruka had felt with his unreliable senses. Kakashi may have felt it, too. But he very well might not have. There was no way of knowing for sure.

“Iruka?”

What Iruka did know was that he’d been doing a lot of ogling. Which, if Kakashi had noticed, probably had come off as weird. Shinobi undressed in front of each other all the time for all sorts of reasons. But if he had noticed, he’d endured it without comment. Reveled in it, perhaps? No, Iruka couldn’t know that, either.

“Iruka!”

Someone shook him.

Iruka blinked and the world around him came into focus. The interior of Ichiraku’s. Teuchi behind the bar, pretending not to be observing him with a concerned look. A steaming, untouched bowl of ramen right in front of him. And beside him, Izumo and Kotetsu, wearing worried expressions on their faces. As he met their eyes, Kotetsu withdrew his hand from Iruka’s forearm.

“You’re spacing out today,” Izumo commented. His brow was pinched in mild concern.

Iruka only then realized that they must have been trying to get his attention for a while. He cracked a small smile. “Maybe a little.”

“More like a lot,” Kotetsu said as he eyed him critically.

“This isn’t still about that jōnin, is it?” Izumo ventured.

“Huh?” Iruka cocked his head. That would have been a weird way for them to bring up Kakashi. “Which one?”

“The one who insulted you at the Mission Desk a few weeks ago? I heard he was pretty despicable,” Izumo reminded.

“The one Hatake saved you from!” Kotetsu proclaimed.

Iruka felt his face heat. “First of all, no I’m not wasting my thoughts on a guy like that. And second of all, Kakashi-san didn’t save me. I was doing perfectly fine on my own. He apparently had an issue with that kind of behavior for his own reasons. He probably would have done the same thing for anyone.”

Izumo gave him a considering look. “I wonder if that’s true.”

“Definitely not true!” Kotetsu cut in before stuffing his mouth full of ramen noodles, before adding, “He normally doesn’t give a crap!”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Iruka said flatly.

“He’s your friend, isn’t he?” Izumo asked. “It’s only normal to be upset if someone insults your friend. I’m upset that you were insulted like that. Not that I was there.”

“Would you be upset for me, too?” Kotetsu asked, looking at Izumo.

Izumo raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Kotetsu grinned.

“But I probably wouldn’t do what Kakashi-san did,” Izumo amended.

Kotetsu only looked betrayed for a moment before considering. “Makes sense. I hear he put the fear of Shodai into that guy.”

“It really wasn’t that dramatic,” Iruka lied. It had been extremely dramatic. He’d been upset in the moment but thinking back on it now got him a little flustered. “And I wish he hadn’t interfered, anyway.”

“Really?” Kotetsu asked after swallowing another bite. “I wouldn’t mind the Copy-nin beating someone up for me.”

“He didn’t beat anyone up,” Iruka corrected. “That would have been worse.”

“Iruka probably doesn’t want to seem weak,” Izumo theorized.

“Psh, who cares about that? I bet no one’s going to be rude to you now.”

That was, unfortunately, not true. There were still too many disrespectful shinobi at the Mission Desk to count. “Either way, I wasn’t really thinking about any of that until you brought it up.”

“Then what are you thinking about?” The little knot of concern reappeared in Izumo’s brow. “It’s unlike you to space out so often.”

“Ah, it’s nothing much,” Iruka immediately deflected. Not that Izumo and Kotetsu were going to buy that, they had known him far too long to let this go. But it wasn’t as if Iruka could be honest with them, either.

They had already been friends with him while he’d ‘experimented’ with guys during his teenage years, when it had been somewhat more socially acceptable for him to be doing so. And they had been aware of this ‘experimentation’ and had never said anything negative about it. They’d taken any information about it in stride. But since then, as he’d matured, he’d stopped talking about it as if it had stopped happening. They had never brought it up again and neither had he. Now, he didn’t know where they stood on the matter. And if he didn’t know, it was always best to assume the worst.

Of course, Iruka had always found it extremely suspicious that the two of them lived together and had been doing so for years without ever displaying any interest of changing that. A lot of people their age were eager to live in their own space and to find a significant other to spend their time with, but not Izumo and Kotetsu. They’d been the subject of teasing for it in the past but any comments directed at their shared bachelor-status just seemed to roll off of them. But no matter how much could be interpreted into those circumstances, they had never revealed anything to Iruka and so Iruka couldn’t know.

He couldn’t be sure about anything, apparently. It was starting to grate on Iruka’s nerves.

“Well, I guess there is something,” Iruka admitted slowly, trying to affect a somewhat bored tone to downplay just how much of ‘something’ there was. “But it may be nothing, so it’s probably not worth bringing up.”

“What is it?” Izumo asked. “If it’s occupying your mind, it’s probably worth talking about.”

Iruka sighed as he stared into the broth of his ramen. “There’s someone I’m... I find sort of attractive, I guess.”

Kotetsu gasped dramatically and Iruka immediately regretted ever joining both of them for dinner. But he pushed onward.

“I’d like to act on it. But I don’t know whether it’s one-sided.”

Izumo and Kotetsu shared a quick look.

“Who is it?” Kotetsu asked immediately.

“I’d rather not say until I’ve figured this out,” Iruka lied once more.

“Why don’t you ask... her if she’s interested? That should clear it up,” Izumo suggested.

Her. Iruka’s insides ached at the word. “If I say something there’s no going back. And if it’s not mutual, that’ll screw everything up.” Iruka worded his reply as carefully as he could. He couldn’t say ‘him’ but he definitely couldn’t say ‘her’ either.

 Izumo and Kotetsu hummed in simultaneous understanding.

“So you want to know what she thinks without her knowing what you think,” Kotetsu said. “That’s how it always goes, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Iruka said.

“Alright, well, for starters: Is she seeing anybody else?” Kotetsu asked.

Iruka glared at him. “I wouldn’t go after someone in a relationship.”

“I didn’t say you would!” Kotetsu raised his hands in defense. “You can’t choose whom you’re interested in, you know.”

“There’s no partner.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Izumo shook his head lightly. “Is there any risk of ruining a professional relationship or a friendship?”

Iruka paused. “A friendship, yes.”

“I assume you’ve tried flirting?” Izumo ventured.

“Sort of. I guess. But I don’t know whether it was mutual.”

“Could you ask her friends? Maybe she talks about you,” Kotetsu suggested.

“This isn’t the playground. I’m not going to go to anyone’s friends behind their back to find out whether someone likes me or not,” Iruka replied. He was reasonably certain that Kakashi’s friends probably wouldn’t have known either way.

“Maybe you could ask her leading questions, then,” Kotetsu said. “Like what type of guy she likes. Whether she knows any guys like that.”

“Because that’s how natural conversations work,” Izumo pointed out, speaking straight from Iruka’s mind.

“Well, there has to be some way to test it! Maybe meet her shirtless, see how she responds?”

“No,” Iruka said. Shirtlessness clearly didn’t solve anything between Kakashi and him. “And ‘no’ to any other ‘tests’, too. How would I even know how to interpret the results?”

“Well, if she goes all weak in the knees- Or- or maybe if you gently take her hand and she swoons-”

“This isn’t a romance novel,” Iruka griped. “There won’t be any swooning.”

“Honestly, Iruka, I think you might just have to talk to her and fess up,” Izumo said, “You’re never going to know for sure otherwise.”

Iruka sighed. “I guess- I guess that makes sense, it’s just- I really don’t want to ruin it.”

Kotetsu put a hand on his shoulder. “She must be a nice person if you’re into her. Nice people don’t let something like this ruin a friendship.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Thanks,” Iruka replied, forcing a smile.

He picked up his chopsticks to prod at his ramen. Izumo and Kotetsu were right, talking would have been the easiest way to know for sure. And with most other people he might have done just that. Deep down, Iruka knew that the best way to settle something like this was to talk about it. But he couldn’t bring himself to.

Because while it would have been the most straightforward path to getting an answer, it also would have been the easiest way to scare off skittish, introverted Kakashi for good. He pictured it – clearly stating his interest and watching Kakashi’s eye widen before he looked away and his shoulders tensed, betraying his discomfort as he tried to let Iruka down gently. And then Iruka was going to see him less. Or lose some part of their friendship, as everything was pushed into the shadow of Iruka’s attractions.

The thought made Iruka’s stomach twist. He poked at his ramen. He thought his eyes were going to water and he tried not to let them because this wasn’t the place or the time for tears. The prospect of losing Kakashi, even just a little bit of him, was so deeply distressing.

He wasn’t sure when he’d last felt this miserable about the thought of losing someone. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe Kotetsu was right and a person like Kakashi wasn’t going to let this affect their friendship.

Friendship. Is that what Iruka wanted to maintain? Forever?

Kotetsu nudged him. “Hey, hey, Konoha to Iruka – are we losing you again?”

“Huh? What? No- I’m here. Sorry.”

“I just had a thought,” Kotetsu stated, apparently oblivious to Iruka’s massive internal struggle. “Have you thought about fighting her?”

Iruka blinked. For a moment, he didn’t comprehend the words. “What? Fighting?”

“Yeah. There’s this old shinobi proverb, right? ‘No man shows a truer face than the one  he wears during a fight’. I assume that goes for women, too.”

“I’m pretty sure that means something else,” Izumo pointed out.

Kotetsu waved his hand dismissively. “It says what it says. If you want to know the truth about someone, fight them.”

“I’m not going to fight anybody,” Iruka replied.

“Suit yourself! I think it could be a good solution to your troubles.”

Iruka sincerely doubted it.

It was a cold day in December when Iruka saw Kakashi again.

Iruka was leaving the Academy. He was considering giving cooking another shot when he found Kakashi leaning against the wall beside the gate. He was focused on that stupid orange book of his. Iruka’s heart shot up into this throat immediately and he tried to fortify himself for the incoming encounter. He was woefully underprepared for whatever was to come next. He still didn’t know what Kakashi had thought and felt during their last meeting. Were they just going to talk the way they usually did? Was there going to be something more between them? Or was it going to be uncomfortable? Iruka didn’t know and it made him restless.

Ah well. Time to suck it up and deal with it.

“Hello, Kakashi-san,” Iruka said just the way he’d said it dozens of times at this point. Neutral. Friendly. Without expectations. As if nothing had happened. Which it probably hadn’t.

“Yo, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi replied equally as neutral. He shut his book and put it into his pouch as he pushed away from the wall. Neither his tone of voice nor his characteristic slouch gave anything unusual away.

“Did you just get back?” Iruka asked, looking over Kakashi’s uniform for any signs of a recent mission. They were a little scuffed, but there were no visible injuries or blood.

“Yup. Just dropped off the report. Thought I might see you at the Desk, but no such luck.” Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets like didn’t have a care in the world. Which Iruka, who seemed to have far too many cares in the world, was bothered by. He brushed that thought away.

“Ah, sorry. We had a conference today,” Iruka explained, gesturing at the Academy building. Now that he was looking a little closer, he could see that the tips of Kakashi’s ears were pink and he was half-successfully suppressing a shiver. “Did you have to wait long?”

“No, just a bit.” Kakashi started walking, likely expecting Iruka to walk beside him as always. “So. Where to?”

“Huh?”

Kakashi stopped when he noticed that Iruka wasn’t following. “I asked where we should go? I know you picked ramen last time we had dinner and told me to pick this time, but we can get ramen again, if you like. Anything soup-y or broth-y seems weather-appropriate.”

Iruka looked at him. It really was as if their last meeting had never happened. Like he had patched up a different Kakashi in the classroom. He didn’t know what to do with this. He should have anticipated it – all of it being in his head, but the truth was that he’d desperately hoped otherwise. If Kakashi had been mad or uncomfortable, he could have tried to work with that. But this – this left him even more confused than before. And a burning need to ask about it unfolded in Iruka’s gut. But he couldn’t do that. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to.

“Unless you have other plans?” Kakashi asked. “I didn’t mean to presume-“

“Actually-“ Iruka replied before he knew how he was going to finish that sentence. He knew he couldn’t just go along with Kakashi like this and act normal. “I wanted to get in some training today.”

“Ah.” Kakashi averted his eyes. “Of course. That’s important. Well then, I will see you around, sensei.”

“Or!” Iruka said as Kakashi turned to make his escape. Kakashi paused and looked back. “Or you could come with. And train with me.”

Kakashi eyed him for a moment. “You want me to train with you?”

Apparently. “Yes. We could spar. I mean- if you’re not too tired from your mission.”

“I’m not,” Kakashi said slowly. “Out of curiosity: Why do you want to spar with me?”

Kotetsu’s words were ringing in his mind but Iruka dismissed them because they were idiotic. Really, sparring just seemed like a safe way of spending time with Kakashi. They were going to be doing something during which Iruka didn’t get the opportunity to blurt out something stupid or to ask any questions. “Why not? I spar with most of my friends. As I’m sure you do with yours.”

“Maa, not too often, actually,” Kakashi admitted. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind a work out before dinner.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

Iruka took the lead and Kakashi walked beside him, hands still in his pockets and still slouching. It was hard not to glance at him the whole time to try to read something into his behavior. But whenever Iruka did risk a look, there was nothing there to read. At least nothing substantial. Until one time, he caught Kakashi observing him back. Casually. From the corner of his eye. Iruka didn’t look again after that.

They arrived at a training ground that was a little out of the way. Iruka often came here for his workouts. It was a comparatively small area and bit more overgrown than most of the others on account of being used only sparingly, but Iruka didn’t care about that. What he did care about was the lower risk of being disturbed. And the trees surrounding the training ground provided some privacy. Iruka was pleased to see it empty.

“Training ground 19, huh,” Kakashi said as they walked across the overgrown grass.

“Not to your liking?” Iruka asked.

“The opposite. The quieter the better,” Kakashi replied. He looked at Iruka and after a moment he added, “We wouldn’t want to be disturbed, right?”

Iruka blinked. He met Kakashi’s eye. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “I need to do some warm-ups before we start. What about you?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Sure. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Don’t have a good warm-up routine of your own?” Iruka challenged.

“Ah, I just need to do the Copy-moniker justice sometimes. You know how reputations are.”

Iruka smiled in amusement. “Needs must, I guess.”

“They sure do.”

Iruka dropped his teaching bag off to the side, letting it lean against a tree before going into the center of the space with Kakashi. “Alright then, try to keep up,” Iruka teased.

“No promises, sensei,” Kakashi teased right back.

It felt good to be teasing each other. Right, somehow. Iruka stood opposite of Kakashi and started by taking on a wide stance and stretching. Kakashi followed suit. Iruka led them through his normal set of stretches even though the cold air surrounding them made him want to curl up with a blanket, instead. He was grateful that the stretches didn’t really allow him to look at Kakashi while he was performing them. He wasn’t sure that they couldn’t have led into another round of mortifying staring.

When they finished, Iruka’s limbs felt a little looser and his muscles warmer and he knew he was ready to go. He indicated as much to Kakashi who nodded and walked a few paces away to get into a starting position.

They were ready. As they stood there, facing each other, Iruka suddenly became keenly aware that he had challenged Sharingan Kakashi, the Copy-nin, Master of a Thousand Jutsu to a spar. A ninja so deadly, he probably could have killed Iruka in the blink of an eye. Perhaps there would have been better ways to avoid mortification than to get his ass handed to him in under thirty seconds on a training ground. But he’d made his choice. And he wasn’t about to back down.

“What are the rules?” Kakashi asked casually.

“Taijutsu only. No ninja tools, no Sharingan. Until one of us is down or gives up.”

“Back to the basics, huh?”

“Is that a problem?” Iruka smirked. “Don’t tell me the great Hatake Kakashi needs all of his toys to take down a teacher.”

Kakashi cocked his head. “No worries, sensei. I can do just fine without.”

Iruka couldn’t tell if there was a glint in Kakashi’s eye or if it was a trick of the light. “Let’s do it then.” He took a fighting stance.

“As you wish,” Kakashi replied and picked up a pebble. He tossed it up into the air a few times. “Ready?”

“Just waiting on you.”

“Can’t have that,” Kakashi replied. He tossed up the pebble again, higher than he did before, and pulled back his hand.

The pebble hit the ground.

Kakashi and Iruka rushed forward.

Iruka observed Kakashi as he closed in, trying to determine what he was going to do first. For all of his fame and infamy, Iruka actually had no idea what his taijutsu was like – other than very good, probably. Though Kakashi must have been aware that he was stronger than Iruka, he probably wasn’t going to risk a loss by being overly confident and letting his guard down. It was likely going to be explorative from both sides.

Kakashi didn’t let anything on, so Iruka raised his arm to strike. Kakashi easily dodged, getting to Iruka’s side and Iruka evaded a blow meant for his flank. They fell into a pattern and kept going like this, kicking, striking, dodging and blocking. Kakashi’s strikes were decisive and well-placed. Iruka barely managed to avoid being hit most of the time. But he started to learn Kakashi’s body language and the way he handled himself. Normally, such information was best kept as a silent advantage. But Iruka couldn’t resist teasing.

“You’re favoring your right,” Iruka observed as he dodged. He went for another punch. “You wouldn’t happen to be in need of medical assistance again?”

Kakashi stepped aside. “Mh, are you offering, sensei?”

Iruka’s cheeks flushed.

Kakashi used the opportunity to go for his sternum with his fist. Iruka dodged out of the way just barely and tried to counter the attack with a strike at Kakashi’s shoulder, but Kakashi caught his arm before it could connect and brought up his knee.

Iruka twisted his grappled arm as he dodged, ripping himself free from the grip before he jumped backwards to get away from Kakashi’s next kick.

“Trying to distract me with words to get your win?” Iruka goaded with a smirk. “I didn’t think you needed those kinds of tricks.”

Kakashi leveled him a look. “I was just responding to your offer.” He ran towards Iruka, arm raised. “Not my fault if that’s distracting to you.”

“I wasn’t offering.”

Kakashi struck. Iruka blocked. Their faces were close to each other. “Pity.”

They jumped apart again.

“You know, you’re talking a lot for someone who wanted to spar,” Kakashi observed.

“Oh? Are you the one who’s distracted?” Iruka took a fighting stance.

“No, it was just an observation,” Kakashi replied as he mirrored him.

“You like to do that,” Iruka said as he ran forward. Kakashi dodged his strike. “Observe.”

“As do you,” Kakashi responded before going for a kick.

“I do,” Iruka admitted as he jumped out of the way. “When there’s something worth looking at.”

He leapt back to put distance between them but Kakashi immediately followed, attacking with a quick series of kicks and punches that had Iruka backing away further and further with his forearms raised to block.

They got closer and closer to the edge of the training ground. “Are you trying to move me off the field, Kakashi-san?” Iruka asked in a teasing tone before he finally managed to dodge to the side.

“Wouldn’t make much of a difference, sensei. It’s not a losing condition. Unless some trees are a problem for you?” He tried to close the distance between Iruka and himself. “In that case I might just try to do that.”

Iruka jumped backward and stuck himself to a tree with chakra. “Of course not, I could fight you anywhere.”

Kakashi looked up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He followed Iruka up the side of the tree. Iruka tried to swipe at his legs as he approached but Kakashi avoided him easily and closed in.

Iruka leapt off the tree, with Kakashi closely behind him.

Kakashi tried to strike Iruka as he landed and Iruka narrowly got away. He attempted a couple of kicks but each was dodged or blocked. As they continued to trade blows like that Iruka realized that Kakashi’s fighting style changed. He used increasingly defensive and evasive maneuvres instead of attacking Iruka offensively and actively trying to claim the win. Iruka realized as a hit landed in Kakashi’s side that he was also getting away with a lot more than he should have.

In reality, Kakashi should have beaten him a while ago.

“Stop holding back,” he demanded through panted breaths as he tried another swipe at Kakashi’s feet.

“Are you sure, sensei?” Kakashi asked as he dodged, not even bothering to deny the accusation. “Can you handle that?”

“Yes!”

“Very well.” Kakashi rushed him, so fast that it almost startled Iruka. An elbow was headed for his shoulder. Iruka just barely had the time to block. Suddenly, pain shot through the flank on his other side – Kakashi had brought up his knee while Iruka had been distracted. A well-coordinated move. Iruka choked and stumbled.

One stumble was more than enough. Kakashi grabbed a briefly flailing arm and a shoulder and pushed forward and down. Iruka felt his legs and behind connect with the ground. Then his back and shoulders.

And then he was lying on the ground, pinned by his arm and shoulder, with Kakashi on his knees above him.

Iruka was breathing heavily as he stared up. His breath came out as a cloudy little veil in the frigid air between them. Behind it, Kakashi was looking down at his face, one dark grey eye staring intently. Kakashi wasn’t out of breath, but his face was becoming a little flushed.

In the cold winter air, Kakashi’s grip – leather-clad palms and exposed fingers – felt searing. And the heat of Kakashi’s thighs on either side of Iruka’s hips was like a furnace. Iruka swallowed. Kakashi’s eye darted over his face a few times, unable to fully settle but always decisively watching him.

Iruka wasn’t sure whether this spar was the worst or the best idea he’d ever had.

Kakashi was carefully not sitting on him but it was a near thing and that realization alone made it a little more difficult to breathe. Just a little movement and there would have been- they would have been-

Kakashi stood up. “Sorry,” he said. Whether the apology was for the prolonged pinning or hurting him or something else entirely, Iruka couldn’t know. Kakashi reached out.

“Don’t be,” Iruka said simply and took the offered hand to pull himself up. The touch lingered for a moment and in that same moment, Iruka and Kakashi both looked at their connected hands, then at each other, before they let go.

“I hit you harder than I meant to.”

“Guess I had that coming, asking you to stop holding back.”

Kakashi hummed. “I don’t know. It’s not like you’re weak. You’ve got good moves.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. I’ve never seen someone with cleaner fundamentals. Your stances are textbook,” Kakashi praised though he wasn’t meeting Iruka’s eyes as he did. And though his tone of voice was completely even, it sounded sincere to Iruka’s ears.

“But still no match for you,” Iruka reminded.

Kakashi gave him a look. “That’s not a fair comparison, is it? When was the last time you had to rely on taijutsu in a life or death situation?”

The question was rhetorical so Iruka didn’t answer. “Let’s go again,” he suggested. Even if his throbbing side felt like his body objecting. “And no holding back at all this time.” If Iruka was going to be down in the grass in ten seconds, so be it. He preferred that to Kakashi putting on the kid gloves.

Kakashi continued to look at him. Then he looked up at the trees as if in contemplation. “Counteroffer: You get to use ninja tools and in turn, I won’t hold back.”

Iruka opened his mouth to protest but he didn’t get the chance.

“I’m not belittling you. Fact is, I do more taijutsu than you do and in more dire circumstances. That puts me at an unfair advantage. I want to honor your request, but I also want to even the odds a bit. Being on even footing would be good for both of us. Sound fair?”

Iruka pouted, mostly for show. The thing was that he didn’t actually feel belittled or patronized, the way he normally might have in a situation like this. Kakashi wasn’t pulling rank or flaunting his skills to put someone else down, he was simply stating a fact. So Kakashi’s offer was more than reasonable. Though Iruka suspected that he had no idea what he was getting himself into. “All ninja tools?” he asked.

Kakashi cocked his head and gave him a measuring look. “I don’t know what you’ve got stashed away in that vest of yours, but sure.”

“Oh, you’re going to find out, Kakashi-san,” Iruka said with a heated look. “Your terms are acceptable.”

Kakashi looked away again, though Iruka could still see his reddened cheek above the mask. “Do you need a break or are you ready to go again?”

“I’m ready. Unless you need a break.” Iruka hesitated. “Though I’d imagine you to have more stamina than that.”

Kakashi coughed. “I’m ready, too.”

Iruka smirked to himself as he went back to his starting position, then he smoothed over his features as he turned to look at Kakashi who had already picked up another pebble. Iruka shook his head, clearing his mind to try to focus on strategizing.

He had a variety of different things stashed away on his person that Kakashi didn’t know about. The element of surprise was going to do some heavy lifting during the next fight. Kakashi was still more experienced and skilled at combat than Iruka, but if he played his cards right and used the inherent benefits of blades and ninja tools, he could give himself an advantage.

Kakashi tossed the pebble up again.

When it hit the ground this time, Iruka immediately drew a kunai and rushed forward. Kakashi approached as well. But before they could meet, Iruka quickly produced three shuriken from his pouch and launched them at Kakashi, forcing him to dodge. Kakashi dodged left and Iruka met him there, taking a swipe with his kunai. Kakashi ducked to avoid it and kicked at Iruka’s legs. Iruka jumped out of the way.

They fell into another exchange of blows, but the battle immediately felt different from the last one as Iruka used his kunai to keep Kakashi away from himself. Being armed with a blade gave him a wider range to attack at than Kakashi had.

But it wasn’t enough, he needed to catch Kakashi thoroughly off-guard to have a chance at taking him down.

“How are your stitches holding up?” he asked as he took a swipe.

Kakashi dodged, but his movement wasn’t as clean as it had been before. “They held up well. You did solid work.” He tried to strike Iruka’s side again.

Iruka held him back with his kunai. “Don’t tell me you took them out without me,” he concluded with mock-offense.

“Had to. Can’t leave them in too long,” Kakashi replied, eyes on Iruka’s weapon as he went for a kick.

Iruka dodged. “You could’ve come by, you know. I would have helped.”

Kakashi hummed and tried another strike. “It was no problem. I took care of it on my own.”

Iruka moved out of the way. “Do you have to do that a lot?”

“Hm?” Kakashi stared back at Iruka, eyes still on the kunai.

“Have to take care of yourself on your own?” Iruka asked innocently. “I could help you with that, you know.”

Kakashi’s eye went wide, his face red and Iruka took the chance to launch himself at him. They collided, Iruka holding the kunai to Kakashi’s neck while he pressed his other arm against him. At the last moment, Kakashi remembered himself and jumped backwards, out of the way.

“You’re playing dirty, sensei,” he accused without sounding offended, his face still red.

“You haven’t seen anything, yet,” Iruka promised with a smirk.

Iruka rushed Kakashi and went in for another swipe with his kunai. Kakashi ducked under it again and attempted to grapple Iruka’s middle. Iruka noticed it just in time and leapt up. He took out three more kunai with his off-hand and tossed them at Kakashi who easily vaulted out of the way.

Iruka landed. Kunai and shuriken clearly weren’t enough, Iruka had to take things up a notch. Kakashi was rushing toward him again. Iruka held him off with another round of shuriken and used the brief moment that gave him to pull out another weapon – a kunai primed with a minor paper bomb. Kakashi was just approaching again when Iruka threw it right at him. Kakashi quickly deflected it, sending it flying into the nearby treeline where it immediately exploded. It was just a small bang more than anything, not even the tree was damaged.

But Kakashi did take a quick glance, probably to see what he was working with.

Iruka seized the opportunity to go for him again. Kakashi saw him in the nick of time and avoided being tackled. “Bombs, huh?” he said after putting some distance between Iruka and himself.

Iruka closed that distance tried to attack Kakashi further with his non-primed kunai. “You seemed intent on me using all ninja tools.”

Kakashi dodged. “That I did. You’re full of surprises.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Kakashi said and met Iruka’s eyes with his own briefly. “It was meant to be one.”

Iruka smirked. “Then let me surprise you some more.”

And so the fight continued.

Iruka used his advantage of range, sending more shuriken flying and trying to force Kakashi away from himself with a blade whenever he got too close. Kakashi dodged and blocked without much effort and tried to land strikes on Iruka or to tackle him. Whenever they approached the edge of the training field, Iruka used nearby branches to get an advantageous position, only abandoning it when Kakashi evaded all of his attacks to get close. They danced around each other on the training field, varying move sets and attacks and Iruka realized that he was having a blast. Kakashi was an insanely fun sparring partner. Who would have thought?

Iruka knew that if Kakashi had ever come at him with intent to kill, there was nothing he could have done to stop him, no matter their little arrangement. Even if Kakashi had just decided to take the damage of one of Iruka’s weapons to take the win, the spar would have been over. But that wasn’t how one sparred. And in the frame of a spar, they worked well together. Kakashi missed one or two chances to finish the battle and though Iruka had insisted on him not holding back, he was secretly glad because it meant that the fight went on longer.

Now that Iruka could keep Kakashi at a distance, he had the opportunity to truly observe his movements. They invited memories of their one mission together. Although Kakashi wasn’t using anything nearly as extraordinary as he had on that mission, his moves and form still triggered images in Iruka’s mind. Reminding him of how he’d first thought of Kakashi as attractive, as a vision to be admired. Back then he’d thought Kakashi was handsome and skilled but lacking in personality. Now he knew that he’d been wrong. And whenever Kakashi’s and his eyes met across the battlefield, it made him feel hot and cold, made his stomach flutter with nerves and his heart pound with excitement.

Sparring had been a stupid idea. At the same time, it had been genius.

Iruka landed on another branch. He crouched down and panted as he threw one of his standard kunai down at Kakashi, intending to send a row of shuriken right after to move him to where he wanted him. But instead, Kakashi kicked the kunai and sent it flying back at him. Iruka hopped to the side on the branch to dodge.

“You keep putting distance between us, sensei,” Kakashi assessed from the ground. “I thought you didn’t like it when we avoid each other.”

“No, you’re right, I’d much rather we didn’t,” Iruka teased. “If only you didn’t attack me whenever I let you get close.”

Kakashi hummed. “Maybe I wouldn’t, if you weren’t so eager to attack me yourself. You’re not holding anything back.”

“What can I say?” Iruka smirked. “I can be relentless if there’s something I want.”

“So can I,” Kakashi replied and immediately launched himself with a chakra-infused jump into Iruka’s direction.

Iruka took it as a chance, ready to block and immediately attack. But it was a feint. Instead of aiming his kick right at Iruka, Kakashi instead gave the branch a chakra-amplified kick right at the base, sending a crackling tear through the wood and ultimately separating it from the tree.

One moment caught off-guard was one moment too many and Iruka went tumbling down as Kakashi stuck himself to the tree for a moment before jumping right after him. Iruka knew that if they met mid-air, he was done for. Kakashi was approaching with too much force for anything else. And he could also tell that his stamina was slowly reaching its limits. He had to end this.

Good thing Kakashi was, first and foremost, a protector.

Iruka pulled out his last primed kunai and threw it at the ground right underneath himself – the point where he was going to make impact with the ground – all the while pretending that his aim was off. Kakashi must have noticed immediately, because he reached Iruka, but instead of pinning him and driving him towards the impending explosion, he grabbed him by his flak jacket and pulled him out of the way mid-air, changing Iruka’s trajectory and thereby saving him from his own weapon.

The flashbang went off just as Iruka and Kakashi landed, Kakashi making impact right beside it – he had been unable to change his own trajectory in the split second before – and it caused him to stumble backwards. Iruka didn’t hesitate, he launched himself at Kakashi and used his momentary distraction to produce a barrier seal tag from his vest, plant it on Kakashi’s back and activate it, hoping against hope that it was going to work.

Kakashi immediately froze as if stunned. He twitched. Iruka made to pin him but the seal broke. Kakashi spun, Iruka lunged.

They met the ground.

And Iruka pinned Kakashi with a kunai to his throat.

“I win.”

-

Kakashi was panting.

His mind was catching up to what had happened during last few moments. He’d almost been caught in a blast, stumbled away, suddenly been paralyzed, now pinned. Bits and pieces were missing, but he was too distracted to put them together.

He was staring at the sight right above him.

Iruka, panting and red-faced from exertion, sweat clinging to his skin. His knees were on either side of Kakashi’s hips, one arm was firmly pressing against his chest and the other was angled to hold the kunai to his throat. Their bodies were less than a palm’s breadth apart. And the air between them was hot.

Kakashi swallowed.

He could have pushed Iruka off. It wouldn’t even have been particularly difficult at this point. Or Iruka could have gotten up, probably. The match had been very clearly decided, there was no need for... this.

And yet. Kakashi didn’t dare move a muscle.

Iruka was beautiful. He was always beautiful but this was a side of his beauty that Kakashi hadn’t gotten to see, yet. At least not in a while. Fresh after a battle. Flushed and glistening with sweat. Iruka’s beautiful brown eyes were dark and glimmering. His lips were parted as he drew in gasps to even out his breathing. His body was tense. A few strands had freed themselves from his hair tie and hung down over his forehead protector. Kakashi longed to reach up to touch them. To see if Iruka’s hair was as soft as it always looked. To brush errant hairs back into place.

Kakashi’s gaze darted all over Iruka’s face, soaking in every detail. His eyes, his dark lashes and his reddened cheeks.

“You were right back on that roof,” Kakashi said and his voice came out strangely hoarse.

Iruka blinked, apparently startled out of whatever stupor he had sunken into. “About what?”

“You can turn a very appealing shade of red.”

It was a high-risk statement that yielded a high reward as that gorgeous flush deepened and Iruka’s eyes grew a bit wider. The kunai fell into the grass beside Kakashi’s head. Iruka’s hand joined it as he steadied himself.

“You won, sensei,” Kakashi said quietly. “Congratulations.”

“Just because you decided to save me,” Iruka replied, still not moving away.

“Mostly because you paralyzed me,” Kakashi corrected. “Though I don’t recall agreeing to fūinjutsu. Or barriers.”

“It was a paper tag,” Iruka replied mechanically, his eyes observing Kakashi’s face closely as if they weren’t talking shop. “That’s a ninja tool.”

“I see.”

“Though I want to use it without the tag eventually. And to make it stronger.”

“You have a lot of hidden talents, sensei,” Kakashi commented.

Iruka stared into his eyes. “I’d love to show you more of them.”

Kakashi felt his breath catch at the admission. He noticed, suddenly, behind Iruka from the sky above, thick snowflakes drifting down to land in the grass beside him. And he stared up at Iruka and sudden anxiety seized his heart. His hands trembled beside him as if wanting to move somewhere or to touch something but not knowing how.

“I’m pretty drained from my mission,” he blurted out. It wasn’t even a lie. This sparring match had been a lot more challenging than it should have been.

Iruka’s gaze softened. “Then let’s get some food into you.” He sat up, carefully not making further contact with Kakashi’s body. Which probably would have made Kakashi go some kind of insane at this point. “We should probably get out of the cold anyway.”

Kakashi nodded dumbly and let Iruka help him to his feet. Iruka gave him a last appraising look before he went to grab his teaching bag. Once they were beside each other again he shot Kakashi a smile.

“So... ramen?”

Chapter Text

Present day

Iruka returned to his empty apartment by himself that night.

The disappointment still sat heavily in his chest, dragging him down and making his shoulders droop. The way back had passed in something of a daze. He’d left Kakashi to take care of the barrier and taken the straightest route home. His body had moved mostly on its own while he had been stuck in his own head. Fortunately, the streets had been deserted this late at night, making his return much more straightforward than his departure had been.

His apartment was dark, a chill crept up Iruka’s spine as he entered. He closed the door behind himself and turned on the light before proceeding to take off his shoes with slow and sluggish movements. His slipped off his flak jacket and forehead protector and put them down somewhere on his way to the bathroom. His bottle of cologne was still sitting beside the sink and Iruka glared at it. A surge of rage made him almost reach for it to throw it against the wall. But he took a controlled breath instead. If he did that, he was only going to have to clean it up.

He ignored it instead and rinsed his hands and face. His reflection stared back at him as he looked up from the sink. His hair was messier than he had thought. Multiple strands had come loose from the hair tie. His cheeks flushed with hot embarrassment as he imagined speaking to Lee and Gai like that. There was some grass stuck to his clothing and the shirt didn’t hang off of him nearly as neatly as it had when he had set out hours before. He angled his head and searched his neck and throat.

No marks. Kakashi never left any in a visible spot. This was a good thing, but it made the weight in Iruka’s chest grow for some reason.

He shook his head. “Stop being so dramatic,” he uttered to himself.

Leaving his reflection behind, he dressed down in the bedroom and put his clothes into the hamper before brushing his teeth and climbing into bed. The sheets were cold and uncomfortable. They cried out for someone who wasn’t there. Iruka stared at the ceiling.

Things had gone so well. Perhaps that sense of elation was why the following crash had left him so devastated. Not to mention the uncomfortable feeling of being intruded on like that. Of having something revealed that he hadn’t wanted to reveal. Iruka pulled up the blanket a little higher, seeking comfort that only Kakashi could have provided. His thoughts were all over the place. He recalled Kakashi’s pained, defeated look before they had parted ways. Like he’d already given up on something greater than just their evening.

The thought made Iruka’s heart clench painfully. And something stubborn reared its head within it. Their evening had been wonderful up until the interruption. Iruka wasn’t going to forget that. He refused to let the end overshadow everything that had come before it. He turned onto his side, facing the pillow that was reserved for a silver-haired head. He reached for it and pulled it close to his chest. He delved into the more pleasant memories, trying to hold onto them. It still took a while until he found his sleep.

The next morning saw him restless and unsettled.

As he went through his usual morning routine, his thoughts kept wandering. To Kakashi for one, but that wasn’t unusual. Given the circumstances, everything else would have been almost worrisome. The other occupants of his mind, however, were new. Somewhere out there in Konoha, there were Gai and Lee going about their day with knowledge in their heads that they never should have learned. It wasn’t that Iruka expected either of them to go around spreading that knowledge, but the mere idea that it was out there had him tense up as he reached for the doorknob to leave his own home.

No matter how often he told himself that there was no reason to be wary, that Gai and Lee were not the kind of people to go and spread rumors, Iruka couldn’t keep himself from eyeing people he passed in search for odd looks being cast his way. As he made his way through a particularly crowded street he strained his ears, trying to pick out conversations to find any hushed ones about himself. But neither his eyes nor his ears detected anything out of the ordinary.

When he arrived at the Academy, none of the kids looked at him with wide eyes and he could enter the teacher’s lounge to the same round of ‘good morning’s that usually awaited him there. The school day passed like any other and eventually he arrived in the Mission Assignment Room for his evening shift. Masaru was his shift partner again and dread curled in Iruka’s gut as he saw him. But Masaru simply greeted him with a wide grin and launched into a long explanation about his weekend plans. None of the shinobi that came to Iruka during his shift paid him any more mind than they usually did. When he was on his way out of the Tower after the end of his shift someone stopped him to ask him to come by and help with the new archiving system sometime. He agreed.

And so, he eventually came home after a perfectly ordinary day. A note awaited him there, informing him that Kakashi thought it best to keep his distance for a bit just to make sure. That, unfortunately, was ordinary, too. Iruka resented it all the same.

The next days went by in much the same way. It was the weekend, so Iruka spent his time scolding shinobi for their subpar mission reports, training and working on some projects. Sunday evening, Iruka dared to hang out with Izumo and Kotetsu in an izakaya though he didn’t touch a drop of alcohol. When Genma crashed their party without hounding Iruka about anything new in particular, Iruka was finally able to relax. Gossip traveled faster than an elite shinobi on a chase-and-capture-mission. The fact that Genma wasn’t accosting him about anything when given such an easy opportunity was proof enough that everything was going to be fine.

As the anxiety ebbed away, Iruka allowed himself to reminisce about the date again that evening, focusing on everything that had been wonderful about it rather than the things that had been mortifying.

Monday rolled around and Iruka was at his desk in class, gaze idly wandering over the rows of students. They were all hunched over their desks, answering – or failing to answer – a written test. A few of them were eagerly scribbling away, minds faster than their pens could put the matching characters to paper. Others had their head buried in their hands as they agonized over the questions with obvious dismay. Most of the students fell somewhere in between.

Iruka looked out of the window. Promptly, the date was on his mind again and he allowed himself to indulge in all the warm feelings that came with it.

There had been something so right about talking freely to Kakashi outside of his home and just being with him without concealing anything under the free sky. Iruka had been given a taste of a kind of freedom he had given up on and he was ravenous for more. How could they go back to the way things had been before? Everything they had and everything they were was too big to be confined to one apartment. Resignation had never really been an option, it had always been just a matter of time until something boiled over. Perhaps being among people was still not possible, but neither was being locked away once again.

That night, even with all of its unfortunate turns, had been proof that more was possible. Minor changes and tweaks could have prevented them from being found. Iruka could look at those things and regret, but he didn’t. He looked at them and he saw opportunity. He wasn’t going to let a good idea get scrapped just because the execution hadn’t been flawless. He didn’t give up on an idea for a seal when the first attempt gave him some difficulty. Especially not when there were so many options for improvement to consider.

There were many different barriers and seals that Iruka could put up or even learn. There were tons of locations and hideaways around Konoha alone. And beyond that, there was still a plethora of jutsu. All of it could be explored. All of it could be the key to another night of freedom. In hindsight, it was almost ridiculous just how long Kakashi and him had steered clear from the wealth of options at their fingertips. Out of fear, no less.

A whisper in the back of the class. Iruka’s head whipped around.

“Tomomi-kun! Stop giving Ayase-chan your answers or I’ll fail you both!”

The chatter stopped immediately. Iruka crossed his arms as he looked pointedly at his students. But even with his gaze on his class, his thoughts began to wander again.

Maybe Kakashi and him could leave the village after all. Iruka was long overdue for a vacation and Kakashi could probably engineer a reason to leave Konoha for a day or two. Or maybe disguises weren’t such a bad idea, after all. The thought hadn’t appealed to Iruka before but with the date fresh in his mind, he was willing to give it a try if it meant another chance. Besides, there was something mischievous about going out in disguise together. It seemed fun, even though it was still dangerous.

Another whisper.

Iruka stood abruptly. All the kids startled.

“Tomomi-kun!”

“Sorry, Iruka-sensei!”

Noon turned into afternoon and eventually Iruka released the little hellions into their free time. Iruka smiled to himself as he listened to them talking on their way out. A lot of them made spontaneous after-school plans together, others promised each other to meet up the next day. Most of the plans didn’t involve training. They were mundane and so inherent to a peaceful childhood – a balm to the soul for someone who had grown up in an era of tension and war.

It put a smile on Iruka’s face and gave him a little extra boost of energy for the teacher’s conference. He packed up his bag and went over his plans in his head. He was going to be in charge of the meeting that day and it was all about further reforms and improvements of the Academy and the students’ lives. He’d thought about Kakashi’s suggestion of introducing something about ethics to the kids and intended to bring it up with the other teachers. It was often difficult to get a new idea through to them, but Iruka knew that nothing was going to change if he didn’t at least try.

He left the classroom and headed over to the conference room. The lights were still off and the room was deserted. Iruka was glad to be the first. He went over his talking points again and distributed the handouts he had made.

He was just reviewing all the new ideas he was going to propose and considering maybe cutting back on one or two when the door opened. Iruka looked up and smiled.

“Anko-san. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

Anko sauntered into the room with a smile on her face. “What, like I’d miss one of my very important duties as a part-time instructor?”

Iruka raised an eyebrow in amusement. “You did miss the last two meetings. Maybe more.”

“Psh!” She waved a hand dismissively. “There’s so many of them. You could probably afford to miss some yourself.”

“I’d rather not,” Iruka pointed out. “We’ve made some real progress with these meetings.”

“Then I’m glad you’ve got it handled!” Anko leaned over the desk to casually peer at one of the handouts. “Someone’s been busy.”

“Just some ideas I want to run by everyone. The headmaster isn’t attending today, but if the other instructors are on board, we could propose some things together.”

She hummed. “Must’ve kept you pretty occupied to come up with all this.”

“Ah, not really. A lot of it just occurs to me and I write it down,” Iruka admitted.

“So not that busy, then,” Anko concluded. She eyed him in a way that he decidedly didn’t like. “What about tonight? Got any plans for tonight?”

Iruka looked at her warily. “Um. Nothing much. My class had a test today that I’ll probably be grading. Maybe I’ll get some takeout on the way home.” He paused. “Why, did you want to meet up?”

“No, no, I’m good. Just thought you might have plans.” She meandered over to him.

“What riveting plans did you expect me to have on a Monday evening?” he asked.

She stalked around him, looking at him from all sides. It was deeply unnerving. “I don’t know, I just thought you might have something going on tonight.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Are you sure?” She leaned a little into his space.

He gently pushed her back. “Of course I’m sure. What is this even about?”

“Oh come on, you know,” she nudged him and smirked.

Dread settled in Iruka’s stomach, heavy and sour. “Know what?”

“Don’t play around, Iruka-kun, we’re friends! You can tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Iruka asked, exasperated.

“Whom you’re seeing!”

Fuck.

A spike of panic. Immediately suppressed. Everything felt hot. Iruka’s nerves were on fire. A wave of anxiety rolled through him, from his heart to his fingertips. But he couldn’t show anything. His thoughts raced, asking what a relationship-less Iruka would have done. Latching onto ‘confusion’ as an answer. “What are you talking about?”

Anko sighed. “You know what I’m talking about. Your secret affair in the woods?” She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “Honestly, kudos! I didn’t expect something so risqué from you. I mean, sure, shinobi getting frisky out there is old news. But I had no idea you were the type!”

Iruka grimaced. He cursed Gai and Lee. Not only had something gotten out after all, but this was how it was being framed. “I’m sorry, what? What kind of person do you take me for?”

“Someone with a lot of secrets, apparently!” Anko replied and leaned closer again. “Now don’t say that you don’t ‘kiss and tell’. Or ‘fuck in the woods and tell’. I always tell you about mine!”

For better or for worse, that part was true. “I sincerely don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She mustered his face. “Hum. You’ve gotten better at lying.”

“It’s not a-” Iruka groaned. “Where is this even coming from? Did you just make this up?”

“What? No.” She hummed and tapped her chin in thought. “I’m pretty sure I overheard Ino-chan talking about it.”

Ino. Not Lee or Gai. But Ino. This was rapidly evolving into a worst-case scenario. “You’re trying to tell me that Ino-chan, my former student, is spreading those kinds of rumors about me? About me- doing stuff in the woods?”

“Well,” Anko hedged. “She may have spoken about a picnic or something and I intuited the rest.”

“Well, you intuited wrong.” He wished he could deny the whole thing but Gai and Lee had seen the evidence in person. Not only was it going to be difficult to paint them as flat-out liars; even if they had broken his trust, he didn’t really want to do that to them. They weren’t lying, after all. Besides, the further he strayed from the truth on his quest to obfuscate, the easier it was going to be to disprove his claims. “Look, it’s embarrassing, but I was on a picnic-”

“Aha!”

“-but it was by myself.” Iruka flushed, trying to look embarrassed. Which wasn’t too hard, the whole situation didn’t exactly make him proud. “I thought I’d treat myself to a nice picnic. By myself. I know it’s sort of... pathetic.”

Anko looked at him intently. “You set up a romantic picnic for yourself?”

“It wasn’t romantic! It was just a picnic! It’s like... treating yourself to a nice restaurant meal. Or going to an onsen by yourself,” Iruka explained. “I’ve been having a stressful time lately and I thought it might help.”

“Why’d you do it at night then?”

“I spend my days here or at the Desk. Plus, it’s not exactly something you’d want someone else to see, is it?”

Anko stared at his face. She was silent for a long, long moment. “Is she making you keep it secret?”

“Who? What?”

“Your secret girlfriend. Is she pressuring you?”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “I told you, I went by myself.”

“Look, if she’s pressuring you, you can just tell me and I’ll go have a word with her,” Anko offered.

Iruka groaned. “There’s no one to have a word with!”

Anko shook her head. “No one should have to hide their girlfriend, Iruka-kun.”

Iruka glared. “For the last time. I do not have a-”

The door opened.

“-girlfriend!”

Iruka blinked and turned to see another instructor standing awkwardly in the doorway. Anko turned her attention to him, too. “Is this- Are we having the conference?”

“Yes,” Iruka said decisively as he stepped away from Anko while his cheeks burned. “Yes, we are. Please come in. We’re going to start soon. Please take a handout, it has the agenda on it.”

The instructor nodded and entered hesitantly. Others soon followed.

Iruka did his best to stay calm as he took charge of the meeting.

Anko didn’t stop staring at him the whole time.

-

Kakashi smiled politely as a shinobi gave him a quick bow before hurrying along to wherever she was headed. Kakashi glanced after her as she made her way down the street.

He still wasn’t used to it. All the bowing. Likely, he was never going to be. But he accepted having to deal with it in order to be outside. The fresh air and leisurely movement of his walk were doing him some good. His thoughts had been going in circles inside his office and he desperately needed to get them in order if he wanted to get anything done. Shikamaru had taken one look at him restlessly searching for something on his desk and suggested a walk or cloud watching. There were barely any clouds in the sky that day, so he went with the walk.

He probably could have done with an intense training session, instead, but that wasn’t in the cards for the Hokage most days.

So, he strolled through the streets of the village as he tried not to think about the date too much. Positive reminiscing would have been nice. He could have used a reprieve, even just a mental one. But it was doubts and concerns that plagued him instead.

The truth was that Kakashi was terribly ashamed of how things had gone down. He should have protected Iruka from being seen. He should have noticed the damned forehead protector in the grass. But his mind hadn’t been up to it – perhaps it had been the plum wine, or the distraction or any number of other things – but he had failed and Iruka had been left to pay the price. Trying to explain away a damning scene.

Kakashi had barely slept the last few nights, thinking about how everything had gone wrong. How dates were apparently out of the question. How that was undoubtedly going to affect both of them. He hadn’t even dared to visit Iruka again out of some paranoid instinct that it could have given even more away.

This wasn’t productive. Kakashi pushed himself to focus on his surroundings instead of the anxieties in his head. It was, objectively, a nice day out. The people seemed to thoroughly enjoy the sun. It was peaceful.

After a while, he encountered a street lined with decorated market stalls that were not usually there. Craftsmanship of different kinds was on display. Kakashi then remembered having seen a flyer for an artisan’s market on the bulletin board not too long ago. He hadn’t been involved in the planning of it, but he vaguely recalled approving a permit while wondering about the efficiency of such things ending up on his desk. Figuring out a different way of handling these matters had been on his to-do list for a while.

It looked like the organizers had created something beautiful with his permission. Several people were crowding the street. Kakashi usually avoided crowds but he couldn’t deny his own curiosity. So he started browsing the stalls, returning nods to more respectful bows left and right. Maybe he could find something unique or nice to get for Iruka. It was already April. Iruka’s birthday was coming up at the end of May. Perhaps Kakashi could find a special gift.

He was just walking away from a display of glassware when something caught his attention. Only, it wasn’t a trinket.

“Did you hear? Apparently, Iruka-sensei is having a secret affair.”

Kakashi’s blood ran cold. His steps faltered as he heard the words. Painfully aware of his guards and the ever-present audience of the people around him, he quickly faked interest in the market stall he’d randomly stopped by. He was thankful that the stall’s owner was currently absent.

A Hokage could develop a spontaneous obsession with pottery, he figured. Even if the pottery was a bit too... vibrant for him. He hovered by the pieces in the front and picked up one as if inspecting it, glad to have foregone the robes on his little outing. He was still instantly recognizable. But not being clad entirely in white he at least felt a little less like a beacon. While he feigned interest in the pottery, he listened.

“What? Iruka-sensei?” One of the women who were now directly behind him asked.

“Yes! Apparently he was meeting with someone in the woods! It’s all terribly dramatic,” the woman who had started this particular round of gossip said, sounding more like she was reciting the contents of a romance novel than the reality of another person’s life.

“How uncouth,” the other woman, who was a bit older than the first, replied. “You know, my great-niece is in his class!”

Kakashi sent a quick mental curse to Gai and Lee. He wasn’t sure which one of them had blabbed and to whom and why but he was certain that they had no idea what kind of trouble they had caused.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” the first woman chastised. “He probably just wants to have some privacy for his girlfriend and himself. You can’t fault him for that. Shodai knows those single mothers wouldn’t leave him alone about it if they knew.”

“What if it’s one of them? That would be extremely inappropriate!”

“Maybe a little…”

“Or what if it’s a former student!”

“I’m sure it’s nothing like that…”

It wasn’t, at least, anything like that. Though the reality, Kakashi knew bitterly, wouldn’t have made them any happier.

“Well, there has to be a good reason for all this secrecy,” the older woman said. “What kind of a man keeps a partner a secret from everybody? What’s he got to hide?”

“Like I said, he probably just wants some peace. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, he’s probably going to go public,” the younger woman suggested.

Kakashi felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest. What kind of man did it make him to be hiding his partner away? To be permitting a complicated relationship like that to go on and on, locking Iruka away from the world?

“Oh! Rokudaime-sama!”

Kakashi blinked. An older woman, old enough that she could have easily been his mother, had emerged from the shop behind the stall. Her exclamation drew the attention of a few people, making Kakashi want to collapse in on himself and disappear.  The conversation behind him stopped. “Ah, good day.”

“That is a fine piece you’re holding there,” she said as she approached. “I didn’t know our Hokage was interested in pottery.”

He wasn’t. Or, if he was, he was just as unaware of it as she had been. He looked down at the item he was holding, only really taking it in for the first time now. It was a colorful warped-looking thing. A container of some kind. Mayber a vase? “Ah, not pottery per se,” Kakashi admitted. “I simply admire the fine craftsmanship one can find in our village,” he said kindly as he put the maybe-vase back down.

The woman hummed appreciatively and drew a little closer. “That mug there is a very nice piece, if I may say so myself. I am very proud of it.”

“Is that so?” Kakashi asked, completely unprepared to be roped into a sales pitch.

“Oh yes. Do you practice any of the arts, Rokudaime-sama?”

“I can’t say that I do.”

She nodded. “Well, it is hard for any artisan to part with their most precious works. It would honor me if this mug found a good new owner. Someone with a keen eye for quality.”

She stared at him. He stared back.

Five minutes later, he was leaving the artisan’s market with a paper bag containing a new mug, wondering how he’d let the old woman win. He sighed as he carried his questionable purchase and realized that he hadn’t even gotten anything for Iruka.

Suddenly, someone appeared beside him. “Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi glanced at his guard. “Hare. What is it?”

“We have just spotted a commotion two streets down. En route to the Hokage Tower. Another protest.”

Kakashi clicked his tongue and sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood. “Is it looking bad?”

“No worse than the rest of them, Hokage-sama. Should we intervene?”

Kakashi stopped walking. “No more than usual. Have someone observe, intervene only if necessary. I’d like a report on what’s being said.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kakashi looked down the street. “En route to the Tower,” he mused. “Guess I’ll take a different route back. Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Of course, Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi started walking into a different direction to take a small detour. Hare followed dutifully behind, waiting for a proper dismissal. Kakashi smirked to himself. “Hare, you don’t happen to be a secret enthusiast of top notch pottery, do you?” He waved the bag with the mug around.

Hare, painfully serious as always, remained silent for a moment. Then, he replied with a single, flat “no.”

Kakashi suppressed a sigh. If only Sable had been on duty. It was much more rewarding to poke fun at Sable. He always floundered when Kakashi did it. “Unfortunate. Well, in that case, you’re dismissed.”

Without another word, Hare disappeared. Kakashi continued to carry the mug.

He returned to his office shortly thereafter, the conversation he’d overheard hanging heavy in his mind and completely undoing any good the walk might have otherwise done him. Something had gotten out. People were talking. Right now, this was a problem. He could not let it become a disaster.

It didn’t take long after his arrival for someone to be knocking on his door. It was Shikamaru.

“Hey, I just wanted- What is that?”

Kakashi looked up from his desk and followed Shikamaru’s gaze to the newly procured – and rather sizeable – mug sitting beside the documents he’d been mindlessly staring at. “Oh this? Do you like my new mug? I’m told it’s avant-garde.”

Shikamaru approached. “It’s something, for sure.”

Kakashi was mildly amused by the way Shikamaru was trying to avoid looking at it as if it was some cursed item. Perhaps if he carried it around in public, people were less likely try to engage him in conversations or to bow to him respectfully. He couldn’t believe he’d almost pawned it off on one of his ANBU. “You were saying?” he prompted.

“Right. We received an ink bird this morning. Apparently, the Lightning Country delegation made it safely across the border a few days ago. Sai reports that there was no trouble on the way. Naruto and him have changed course to investigate the last known missing-nin location and the rendezvous points. He expects they’ll make good time traveling.”

“That’s good news.” Allies staying safe always was. Though Kakashi couldn’t deny that another attack might have given them more information to work with. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Of course.” Then, Shikamaru lingered for a moment. He pulled a folded note from his pocket. “There’s also this for you to look over.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He took the note and unfolded it. It was written in cipher, but one that Kakashi could read without issue.

‘Someone talked. It might be best to keep things as they are. Try not to worry. This will blow over.’

Kakashi worried instantly. More than he already had been worrying, anyway. He recognized Iruka’s neat handwriting, of course. He hadn’t expected a message, but it made sense that Iruka would have tried to get in touch somehow to make sure Kakashi didn’t do anything reckless in this situation. Kakashi looked up at Shikamaru who was observing him.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Shikamaru asked, though he probably had no idea what the note contained.

“You’ve done more than enough already,” Kakashi replied immediately. On one hand, he was glad that Iruka had passed on a note through Shikamaru as it had allowed the information to arrive relatively safely. On the other hand, he didn’t want to involve Shikamaru in his personal troubles. It wasn’t what he had signed up for. He already carried and guarded their secret. Kakashi couldn’t bear the thought of burdening his subordinate with any more than that.

“Are you sure?”

Kakashi quirked an eyebrow. Shikamaru must have picked up on his worry. He wasn’t usually clamoring for boring or personal tasks to take care of. “I’m sure.”

“I don’t have too much on my desk right now.”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “You’re very… eager to help,” he assessed.

Shikamaru shrugged.

Kakashi sighed. “I am not getting you involved,” Kakashi said with an authoritative tone that he never used with Shikamaru. “You’re dismissed.”

Something in Shikamaru’s expression tightened. “Of course, Rokudaime.” He left and quietly closed the door behind himself.

Kakashi groaned and hid his face in his hands. Great. That had come out way colder than he’d meant for it to. He’d successfully alienated one of the only people who knew the truth and seemed accepting of it. But he couldn’t risk pulling Shikamaru in any deeper.

This was Kakashi’s mess to handle, not Shikamaru’s. If this ever blew up in his face, he couldn’t risk dragging others down with him. Allies to his secret could too easily be condemned. If people started to doubt Shikamaru and his loyalty to the city, his career was over. No matter his Nara heritage or him being Shikaku’s legacy. Reputation could ruin even the most flawless pedigree. As Kakashi well knew.

He took a deep breath. He looked longingly at Iruka’s note. Iruka was right. Kakashi didn’t know exactly how, but if information about Iruka’s mysterious late night picnic was getting out, anyone unusual spotted in his vicinity could prompt uncomfortable questions. It pained him to no end, but they were going to have to be extra careful and continue to stay apart. It was probably a just punishment for Kakashi’s recklessness. If only Iruka wasn’t suffering the consequences, as well.

Kakashi granted himself a moment to take in the slope of each character on the paper, to imagine Iruka’s furrowed brow as he wrote the encoded message, his own pained expression as he must have forced the words onto paper. His sadness. His dejection. He deserved much better than this.

With a small Fire Release, Kakashi turned the note to ash. One less piece of evidence to linger about. Now. How could one suppress a rumor in a city that needed gossip as much as it needed air? Kakashi groaned. It seemed nearly impossible for him to do anything about it. And it wasn’t the only thing that he needed to take care of. He’d barely dodged Koharu in the hallway when he’d come back from his walk and he knew that even though only a few days had passed the elders were already getting antsy.

He glanced at the drawer of his desk and wondered.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

That sparring match changed Iruka’s and Kakashi’s relationship.

Whenever they met up there was now something unspoken, something more, hanging in the air between them.

This more took on many different forms. It took on the form of Iruka looking at Kakashi in a way he hadn’t before. His eyes glinted with appraisal, sometimes even a hungry kind of intent that thrilled Kakashi as much as it terrified him.

More also accompanied the words they spoke, which suddenly developed secondary meanings that hadn’t existed before. They didn’t quite talk in double entendres – those, Kakashi felt he could have dealt with – but rather, they unlocked previously hidden depths of ordinary phrases, unearthing meaningful undercurrents.

And this more lived in the way everything became lingering. The looks they shared. The time they spent together. The odd accidental touch. All of it lasted longer than it needed to, perhaps than it should have, and Kakashi was unable to tell whether it was intentional – whether he was actively participating in it – or coincidental. And it was driving him insane.

Iruka and him lived in suspension, orbiting each other but never touching. Whenever it was time to part ways, they hesitated, seemingly in a shared unwillingness to leave. But just like a planet and its moon, they never collided. Sometimes, Iruka gazed at Kakashi with an unguarded and open expression, eyes deep as oceans, waiting, not pushing, not moving things in any particular direction, but receptive in a way that had moon and planet in standstill.

But Kakashi let the moments pass, unsure how to grasp hold of whatever fleeting thing was between them.

So they continued to exist with those charged moments and undercurrents.

Kakashi may have had the social skills of a turnip, but even he understood what was going on. Somewhere between Iruka asking him to spar and Kakashi ending up pinned to the ground, an understood mutuality had unfolded between them. They were playing with it, flirting. Doing things that would have scared him months ago but now only drew him in further and further. After all, he was extremely weak for Iruka’s particular brand of flirtation.

It had become something he looked forward to with flushed cheeks whenever he was out of the village.

Kakashi was hung up on a particularly pleasant memory one evening as he made his way through Fire Country. Nature was slowly awakening around him as winter faded into spring. More than a year had passed since Naruto had left with Jiraiya. Kakashi still remembered the day of Naruto’s departure and how bleak the world had looked to him. But then, it had also been over a year since he’d paid for Iruka’s groceries, unwittingly taking the first step into an unexpected direction.

One that led him to hurry back from his mission, foregoing breaks in hopes of a quick return. His assignment had been simple – a quick retrieval of intelligence – and Kakashi had made sure not to overexert himself too much or to sustain any major injuries. He didn’t want to be stuck in recovery once he got back.

It occurred to him, as he passed over a small river, that an adjacent thought had once driven him away from Iruka. In his darker moments, he was still painfully aware of the danger he presented. He remembered that he was greedily taking something that wasn’t meant for him. It made him feel disgusting – monstrous, even. As if he was abusing Iruka without Iruka realizing it.

There were cancerous, rotting parts of Kakashi that Iruka had yet to see, after all. And he wondered how much longer it was going to take until Iruka caught onto them.  

But Iruka had forbidden him from running again. And that was a law Kakashi had chosen to live by.

So he met up with Iruka. And Iruka kept finding his eye to gaze into, kept offering his precious time and kept being there, a grounding presence, a planet full of life that Kakashi could orbit. No matter that Iruka was now the light guiding Kakashi home. No matter that he’d become an unwitting anchor when Kakashi was drifting, untethered and broken. Kakashi was going to stay. Because it would have taken a stronger man than him to break his promise and leave.

But with the change in their relationship came something else – anticipation.

Iruka’s actions spoke of a want to take all those undercurrents and bring them to the surface. And Kakashi couldn’t deny his own interest. What he read in Iruka’s features and behavior was a desire for something physical. Something carnal.

And though the next step should have been easy to take, somehow, it wasn’t.

In spite of what the rumors said, Kakashi hadn’t seduced a lot of people in his life. He’d completed the odd mission that had included seduction, sure. But he always tried to avoid them. It wasn’t hard, there were plenty of shinobi that actually excelled at such assignments.

Aside from those scant few missions, he had precious little experience to draw on, especially with genuine seduction. Kakashi had never dated and he had never tried to persuade anyone he really knew to hop into bed with him. Sure, he’d read Icha Icha cover to cover multiple times, but he knew better than to assume that Jiraiya’s fanciful representations of romance had anything to do with the real world.

Several rumors about him floated around Konoha that all painted him in different lights. Extremely promiscuous. Domeering in bed. A secret heartthrob gentlemen. What they all had in common was that they described him to be someone who navigated such situations suavely and with ease. And that just wasn’t true.

Kakashi wasn’t a virgin. But the range of his sexual experiences was very limited. At least when he compared it to what he’d overheard from others that were his age.

The few experiences he’d had had been quick things with mission partners. There had never been any seduction to it. A quick direct question did the trick far better than any complicated courtship rituals.

Aside from this, it wasn’t like he’d been avoiding sex. But he hadn’t exactly sought it out, either. Sex was a uniquely vulnerable position to put one’s self in. It inherently required trust, at least a little. Beyond the trust that boundaries were going to be respected, a shinobi had to consider all the potential ways to be killed, drugged or injured. Even a friend could become a traitor. A courtesan could be paid off. A partner could have grown to resent you.

And that wasn’t even mentioning that Kakashi disliked not being in full control of his faculties. During sex, a person’s blood was saturated with hormones that made them reckless and stupid and vulnerable.

So his experiences had been limited to stress relief. Quick, efficient encounters – a means to an end to burn off adrenaline or to replace the horror of a mission with something else for a bit.

He had had interest in people before, but he had never been in a situation like this.

In the past, Kakashi hadn’t cared about the specifics of his encounters. He hadn’t wanted to remove his mask to kiss, he hadn’t wanted to look into someone’s eyes or to hear them say his name or to experience any of the other things that Jiraiya wrote into his books to make the sex scenes seem like more than a purely biological, mechanical act.

But this was different. Iruka was different.

He built actual connections with people around him. He showed his emotions and cared about the emotions of others. He thoroughly enjoyed himself when he allowed himself an indulgence. And it stood to reason that such traits translated into his sex life.

Iruka’s experiences had probably involved comfortable sheets on soft beds, passionate kisses from lovers who actually cared, and sweet whispered words meant to entice. Just imagining it summoned a blush to Kakashi’s cheeks. And though he had never felt that he needed any of those luxuries, he found himself enthralled by the idea of experiencing them with Iruka.

But Kakashi had no way to get there. Iruka likely had certain expectations and standards when it came to seduction and when it came to what a sexual encounter was supposed to look like.

Kakashi intellectually understood gentleness and passion. But he had no idea whether he was capable of either. He was a weapon with sharp edges, not made for tenderness. But maybe for Iruka and with Iruka, he could try.

He had to try. Whatever that looked like.

The gates of Konoha finally came into view. Perhaps Kakashi wasn’t going to see Iruka immediately, after all. He needed time to figure this out. Iruka deserved to be seduced properly.

Even if he was stuck with Kakashi attempting the seduction.

-

Iruka glanced at the clock.

Kakashi had been sitting in the tree outside his classroom for the last 20 minutes.

Iruka hadn’t let himself acknowledge him since class was still in session and he was busy teaching field signs.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Kakashi in that tree but it was the first time since their spar a few weeks ago and the idea of Kakashi watching him now made his heart race. Especially because him showing up at this time of day usually meant that Iruka was going to have very sudden lunch plans.

Iruka asked his students to practice a message of their choosing with their desk partners and glanced outside as they went to work. Kakashi’s and his eyes met immediately and Kakashi raised his hand in greeting. Iruka smiled a little but the smile quickly fell away when one of the students asked for his help.

Eventually, it was time for lunch break and Iruka released his class, concealing his own eagerness to have the classroom to himself. He stayed behind as everyone filtered out and once the students were gone, he opened the window for his visitor.

Unnecessarily, as Kakashi body flickered to stand right in front of him. “Yo.”

“Hello, Kakashi-san.” Iruka smiled.

Kakashi’s gaze wandered over to the blackboard. “Field signs, huh.”

Iruka nodded. “They’re probably going to abuse them to have conversations behind my back in class for the next few weeks. But if they do it right, I’m going to pretend not to notice.”

“Using their natural inclination to defy you as a learning opportunity? You’re devious, sensei,” Kakashi said.

Iruka eyed him. “You should know. You sparred with me, after all.”

Kakashi’s gaze rested heavily upon him. “I remember.”

Iruka smirked as he mustered him. He was standing there with his usual slouch, one hand in his pocket. He wasn’t doing anything that should have made Iruka want to jump him, but Iruka wanted to pounce him as if he was his prey. He averted his eyes. “You know, you wouldn’t have to wait in the tree and stare at me if you just came around during lunch break. Aren’t you supposed to always be late?”

“Maa, sensei. I’m very selective about whom I bestow my lateness upon. Besides,” Kakashi cleared his throat and looked away before quietly adding, “I don’t mind the view.”

Iruka smirked. “You don’t mind, do you? That’s a very lukewarm opinion to have.”

“Maybe I even enjoy it,” Kakashi conceded.

Iruka turned to look back at him but Kakashi was carefully looking elsewhere. He seemed a bit nervous. “Well, you’re welcome to look all you want.”

Kakashi glanced at him. “I might just do that.”

Iruka felt a bit hot. “Anyway, if you were planning on getting lunch, we should head out. I can’t ‘bestow lateness’ upon my students.”

“Oh, I’m not here for that.”

Iruka raised his eyebrows as disappointment settled into his gut. “I see. Well, if you wanted a refresher on field signs-”

“I want to cook for you.”

The words came out of nowhere and Iruka couldn’t do anything except to stare at Kakashi. Kakashi finally met his eyes, then looked away and then met his eyes again. Iruka had never seen him this anxious before. “You want to cook for me?”

Kakashi nodded, settling on looking away again. “Do you have time this evening?”

Iruka continued to stare. “I do.”

“In that case, I would like to come over and cook. Dinner. For you. Well, for us, I suppose.”

Iruka remembered himself and smiled, amused. “You’re inviting yourself over to my place?”

“That sounds pretty rude, Iruka-sensei. I’m asking you to invite me to your place,” Kakashi said and some of the tension visibly disappeared from him.

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “And why aren’t you just inviting me to your place?”

“My, my, sensei, you want to see my private space?”

Iruka blushed. “You wanted to see mine first!”

They fell silent as Kakashi just let that statement hang in the air without comment for one very long moment. He coughed. “Well, my space isn’t exactly made to entertain guests. I hoped yours might be a bit more accommodating.”

Iruka cocked his head in surprise. He’d always figured Kakashi was well off from all those S-rank paychecks he received, allowing him to afford a nice space. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense that Kakashi didn’t live that way. Iruka didn’t like the implications of that, but it made sense, somehow. “I’m free,” he said simply. “And you can come over and cook. Even though it’s a bit unusual for a guest to do the cooking.”

“I can also leave the cooking to you, if you prefer.”

Iruka grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plans... when do you want to come over?”

“I can be here when school lets out and we can get groceries together,” Kakashi suggested.

“You need me for that?” Iruka asked. The mental image of both of them at the market or grocery store, shopping together for the same meal was... sweet. Cozy. Domestic. Iruka’s heart pounded as he pictured it.

“Well, it’d be easier to prepare a meal you like if you came along.”

Iruka was reminded of the incident a little over a year ago. When he’d seen Kakashi grocery shop by himself. How out of place he had seemed there at the time, doing mundane everyday things. Getting to know him had softened the Kakashi in Iruka’s mind, made him look much more at home in a setting like that. And yet, grocery shopping together still felt like a step further. All of this was unlike anything they had done together before and it made Iruka wonder just what Kakashi was thinking. Not that he didn’t like it. He’d gladly host Kakashi in his home.

Just then, he remembered that it had been a while since he’d last had anyone over at all. Or tidied properly for such an occasion.

“You can come over,” Iruka reiterated, “but I have something to do before that. So you have to get the groceries by yourself.”

Kakashi eyed him. “Are you sure? If you’d rather not be seen at the store with me-”

“It’s not that!” He hesitated. “I want my place to be presentable, that’s all.”

“Ah, it’s like that. Well you don’t have to trouble yourself for my sake. But if it’s what you prefer I can go by myself. Anything you want me to avoid that I wouldn’t know about?”

“Nothing in particular, I trust you.”

Kakashi looked at him for a moment, seemingly taken aback by the innocuous statement. He nodded. “I won’t disappoint.” He hopped onto the windowsill. “I will see you later, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

-

Kakashi immediately took off to procure the groceries with a dinner plan in mind.

While he’d enjoyed – and been terribly nervous about – the idea of going grocery shopping with Iruka, he understood that taking someone by surprise the way he had also had its downsides. At least Iruka not wanting to join him allowed him to go immediately. The stores were much less busy during the middle of the day. So he quickly made his way over to one shop that carried more high-quality produce than the average store to begin his shopping quest.

When he left that same store with a full grocery bag in hand he was interrupted by an ANBU. She appeared right in front of him and summoned him to the Hokage’s office. Of course, this summons couldn’t wait. They never could.

Kakashi frowned and clutched the plastic bag a little more tightly as he made his way to the Tower. He entered through the window, earning him a scolding, and stood in front of the desk. “We’ve received some intel from a spy in Water Country,” Tsunade said without much of a preamble before explaining to him what exactly the intelligence said. She also handed him a scroll which he accepted without a sign of reluctance while his grip on his grocery bag tightened ever more. Kakashi didn’t miss how Tsunade’s eyes kept flicking down to it.

Kakashi looked at the mission scroll in his hand. He was going to have to tell Iruka that he could skip the tidying. He could probably hand him the groceries, too, though they were lacking some ingredients for what Kakashi had intended to make.

“Leave by tomorrow,” Tsunade suddenly said.

When Kakashi looked up, she wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. She was already reading a different scroll. Gratitude swelled in Kakashi’s chest. “If that’s soon enough.”

She just gave him a nod before waving dismissively. “Scram, brat. I’ve got a lot to do.”

Kakashi left the Hokage Tower with a feeling of immense relief.

He resumed his shopping and finished up rather quickly. With some hours left to go, he headed back to his apartment to read and kill some time. When he figured that Iruka must have had enough time to tidy up, he got ready to leave once more. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered whether he should have tried to buy some clothes, too. He was wearing his full uniform. He didn’t really wear anything else. He owned some disguises, but those didn’t really fit the situation. He shrugged, figuring that it was going to have to do.

Then he reassembled the two well-filled grocery bags, retrieving everything he had temporarily stored in his fridge, and set out.

He made his way over to Iruka’s apartment, taking the shortcut over the rooftops and forewent the front door to circle around the building. There he found an open window. Perfect. He landed on the window sill and crouched down, giving him the view of what was presumably Iruka’s living room, where Iruka himself was in the process of violently shoving something into a closet that seemed to be a bit overfilled already.

“Yo.”

Iruka startled and slammed the door of the closet shut. He whirled around. “Kakashi-san! Can’t you just use the door?”

“Maa, you sound like Tsunade-sama. This is far more practical,” Kakashi explained as he set the bags down on the floor and took his shoes off on the window sill.

“It’s also far more likely to give me a heart attack. Please use the door next time.”

Next time. Kakashi liked the sound of that. “A shinobi getting surprised?” he teased as he climbed inside. “Don’t tell me you’re getting rusty, sensei.”

Iruka crossed his arms. “More like ‘feeling reasonably safe and at ease in my own home’.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll try to use the door next time,” Kakashi said as he picked up the grocery bags. Only then did he realize that Iruka wasn’t wearing his forehead protector or his flak jacket. With just the rest of his uniform, he looked much gentler than he usually did. Kakashi felt warm seeing it. It felt... intimate, somehow.

Iruka nodded. “Well, welcome to my home, I guess.”

“Excuse my intrusion,” Kakashi said politely before bringing his shoes to the front door. Then, he took a moment to look around the living space. It looked cozy and comfortable. Not overly cluttered, but well-furnished and even a little decorated. Photos hung on the walls, some of the cushions showed signs of being well-used and the shelves boasted a collection of books and other belongings. Kakashi was pleased to find his cookbooks among them.

There was a low table – where Kakashi assumed they were going to eat – and a couch pushed up against the wall. Everything was so warm. A proper home. “You have a nice space, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka glanced around hesitantly as if unsure whether the place was up to snuff. “Thank you, Kakashi-san. It’s not much, but it’s enough for me. Ah, let me show you the kitchen so you can put the bags down.”

Iruka showed him the adjoining room. It was a medium-sized kitchen. Bigger than what Kakashi had in the barracks, but clearly not a priority when the apartment had first been selected. It also didn’t appear to be well-used. From what he could see at first glance, things weren’t organized in a way that allowed someone to reach and use everything comfortably. But he kept that to himself. He put the bags down on the counter and started to take things out.

“Would you like some tea before we start?” Iruka offered.

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

Iruka nodded and picked up the kettle to fill it with water. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

“I did,” Kakashi replied as he set out the ingredients. “Since it’s still relatively cold outside, I thought we could have tonjiru. If that’s okay with you.”

“Oh! That sounds great,” Iruka replied warmly.

Kakashi smiled to himself as he surveyed the items for the soup dish. “Good. I bought a variety of ingredients. If you don’t like something, we can leave it out”

“You bought a lot,” Iruka observed as he leaned over to peer at the items on the counter. Then he continued to prepare the tea.

“It’s plenty, I suppose. If we have leftovers, you’re already set for tomorrow.”

“Me? What about you?”

Kakashi suppressed a sigh. “Godaime gave me a mission today. I have to leave tomorrow. And I have my doubts that I’ll be back by dinner.”

Iruka frowned but then he nodded to himself. He smiled at Kakashi. “I guess we will have to make the most of tonight then, won’t we?”

Kakashi swallowed. “I guess we will.”

Iruka left it at that as he turned to fetch two mugs and a teapot.

“How are your cooking skills coming along?” Kakashi asked as he unpacked some more.

“Ah, that...” Iruka replied hesitantly. It told Kakashi everything he needed to know.

“That’s alright,” he said without judgment. “I can take over entirely or you can help me with chopping.”

“I won’t just let you do everything by yourself,” Iruka insisted.

“Very well.” Kakashi hesitated as he looked at the vegetables. His flak jacket felt heavy on his shoulders, suddenly. “I’m just going to get a bit more comfortable while we’re still waiting on the tea.”

Iruka seemed taken aback for a moment. Then a light reddish hue dusted his cheekbones. “Yeah, of course.”

Kakashi unzipped his flak jacket as he walked out of the kitchen and found a place by the door to put it down. He instantly felt incredibly vulnerable without the extra protection. He took a breath. It was fine. He was in a safe space. Discomfort prickled at the back of his neck and he realized that the living room window was still open, so he went to close it. He also pulled the curtains shut for good measure.

Feeling at least mildly less exposed, he took off his forehead protector and placed it alongside his flak jacket. More unease crept into his mind and as he thought about going back to the kitchen, he fought the urge to put everything back on. He knew he was being ridiculous. Hesitating like this. Iruka had seen him half-dead and he had seen him shirtless. This was nothing. Or, it was supposed to be nothing. But it felt like something. He looked at his gloves. Handling food with them was out of the question. So he took them off as well. He was more and less comfortable at the same time. But he pushed through it, steeled himself and went back.

Iruka was in the process of filling the teapot with hot water and Kakashi quickly made his way over to the sink to give his hands a quick wash. Iruka finished pouring, turned around and his gaze seemed to get caught on Kakashi. His eyes widened a little as they took in the sight.

Kakashi didn’t know when he had last felt safe enough to take off parts of his uniform in someone else’s home. But Iruka was without armor, so he wanted to return the display of trust. Besides, cooking was far more comfortable like this. The only thing Kakashi’s hypervigilant instincts didn’t allow him to get rid of was his thigh holster. Iruka didn’t seem to mind.

He didn’t seem to be minding much of anything at the moment, the way his eyes kept roaming over Kakashi’s body.

Eager to get back into more familiar territory, Kakashi turned to the groceries. “We should probably get started with this. Could you get out a cutting board and knives?”

“Yeah, of course,” Iruka replied, a little breathlessly, before he started to move around the kitchen.

The familiarity of cooking and the order of a recipe allowed Kakashi to clear his head a little. He took charge of the operation, starting by giving Iruka instructions on how to properly wash and chop all the vegetables while he handled the preparation of the meat and tofu. When Kakashi was done, he helped out Iruka with his task, leading to both of them standing there in comfortable silence, chopping ingredients with Iruka occasionally asking whether his pieces were the right size.

Once they moved on from preparation, Kakashi handled everything that involved the stove. As they progressed through the recipe, Iruka kept glancing at him, often looking a little flushed. Sometimes he just looked at Kakashi’s face, other times he observed his hands or other parts of his body. And he wasn’t hiding any of it. Kakashi stole his own fair share of looks as Iruka handled food and utensils. That more was between them again.

And it wasn’t just in their looks. It was in how they handled the recipe. They had never cooked together before, but everything clicked. It was effortless. They worked around and with each other seamlessly, even if Iruka grumbled a little when Kakashi gave him unprompted pointers. It was comfortable to work like this. Like they had done it a million times before. More than that, it was something incredibly low-stakes and domestic. Which made Kakashi nervous because it was not something that he was familiar with, let alone good at.

But it just worked. Kakashi stood by the stove and Iruka gathered used utensils to wash them in the sink. Iruka handed Kakashi his cup of tea now and then and refilled it when it was empty. Eventually, Iruka was leaning against the counter, talking to Kakashi about this and that. And with that, even the discomfort that Kakashi had felt at being somewhat exposed was beginning to fade.

Slowly, the tonjiru came together and as Kakashi stirred it with a ladle, he began wondering whether he should have picked a more advanced or flashy recipe to really show off. But even though he could cook complicated meals, he had a soft spot for simple dishes. And he had gotten the impression that Iruka perhaps shared this appreciation.

“This smells amazing,” Iruka said eventually as he stood beside Kakashi, looking into the pot. “Mouthwatering.”

“It’s a very classic recipe. I’ve cooked it a few times before,” Kakashi said as he turned off the stove. “I think you’ll like it.”

Iruka smiled at him. “Yes, I think so, too.” His eyes lingered on Kakashi for a moment before he turned around. “I’m going to set the table. Would you like to stick with tea or would you prefer something else? I don’t have a lot of options, I’m afraid, but there’s cold tea and juice. Might even have some beer haunting the fridge.”

“Actually,” Kakashi said and he reached into one of the grocery bags, “I brought something.”

Iruka turned back around and stared at the bottle of plum wine that Kakashi was holding out to him. “Kakashi-san. This is way too much.”

“We don’t have to finish it all in one night, sensei,” Kakashi teased.

Iruka shook his head. “You can’t just come to someone’s house, do all the cooking-”

“You diced very nicely.”

“-and then also bring out a nice bottle of wine!”

Kakashi inclined his head. “But I did. And besides, I am intruding in your home on short notice. And I never paid you back for saving my life. So I owe you. Likely more than tonjiru and a bottle of wine.”

Iruka looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before snatching the bottle from his grasp. “Fine. Thank you.”

Kakashi huffed out a quiet, fond laugh as Iruka left to set the table. He stirred the tonjiru one last time before taking it off the stove. He brought it to the table to fill their bowls while Iruka served the wine. Then, they finally settled down at the table together. Iruka looked at his bowl and Kakashi observed the smile that formed on his face.

“Thank you for the food,” Iruka said as he picked up his chopsticks and Kakashi echoed the sentiment.

Then, Iruka dug in. Kakashi took a moment to appreciate the sight of it. Iruka always broadcasted his feeling so openly and his enjoyment of food was no exception. His expression turned to one of bliss as he happily chewed his first bite. He swallowed and looked at Kakashi, cheeks red and eyes bright. “This is incredible. I think you need to cook me dinner more often.”

Kakashi’s heart did something funny and he looked down into his bowl. “I just might,” he replied quietly before he pulled down his mask to eat his own serving. Iruka immediately averted his gaze. Kakashi was struck once again by just how much Iruka respected his privacy without ever being asked or instructed to look away. And it wasn’t just his privacy. Iruka seemed to take most of Kakashi’s oddities or quirks in stride in a way few people did. Tenzō and Gai came to mind. But they didn’t handle him with quite the same bravado as Iruka did. Iruka was truly unique.

“You want to know something that might be odd?” Iruka said as he put down his chopsticks to reach for his glass of wine. “I never would have thought that you were a good cook. Well, until that time you dropped off some leftovers, of course.”

Kakashi’s face felt hot. He blamed it on the food. “I suppose it seems odd from the outside.”

“It’s a very... domestic skill,” Iruka mused.

“Ah. Yes. And I’m not a domestic person.”

Iruka hesitated. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No? Well, I wouldn’t be insulted if you did. It’s true.”

Iruka looked at the tonjiru. “May I ask why you know how to cook so well? Is it just something you like to do?”

Kakashi hummed. “I do enjoy it. But mostly I learned because I cooked for myself a lot when I was relatively young. Shinobi need a balanced and healthy diet and since I had no one to provide it for me, I learned how to provide it for myself.” He shrugged. “I guess I got pretty good at it.”

“I’m sorry,” Iruka said. “I never- I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

Kakashi stared at his food and shook his head even though Iruka, who still wasn’t looking, didn’t see it. “It’s fine. They’re not...” Kakashi couldn’t find the right words to finish that thought. “It’s just the way things were.”

Iruka remained quiet for a moment. “Well, whatever the reason, your skill is admirable.”

“It’s not, really. It’s just following instructions,” Kakashi pointed out.

“Psh. If it was that easy, everyone would be cooking themselves chef-class meals. I promise you it’s special.”

Kakashi smiled to himself. “Maybe.”

“It’s great and deserving of respect and you can’t convince me otherwise,” Iruka said decisively before taking a sip of his wine.

“Then I suppose I will have to accept the compliment. If you’re not leaving me a choice.”

“I’m not,” Iruka confirmed.

Kakashi chuckled.

They continued eating their meal and Iruka complimented the food even more every once in a while, pointing out specifics like the taste of the broth, the texture of the vegetables, the rich flavor of the meat and so on. He seemed to be hellbent on making the tonjiru seem like an example of a masterclass in cooking and Kakashi didn’t know what to do with all the compliments so he simply let them rain over him.

Eventually, they both set down their utensils and Kakashi started clearing the table, shooting down any protests from Iruka about him not being the host and not being obligated to tidy. Kakashi had his reasons. After he deposited the empty bowls in the kitchen, he pulled out the last thing he had hidden away in one of the grocery bags and brought it out to the living room.

“I hope you’re still a little hungry,” he said as he approached the table.

Iruka looked up and his mouth opened in surprise. “Is that yōkan? Please tell me you didn’t actually make that.”

Kakashi smiled as he sat down on his cushion and placed the dessert on the table. “I didn’t. I don’t typically make sweets. And I didn’t really have the time. Pick whichever you want. Or we can share.”

Iruka looked at the two pieces of yōkan, each sitting on a shiso leaf. Kakashi had brought a green one which was green tea flavored and one of a dark reddish purple color which was red bean flavored. “Share,” Iruka decided.

So share, they did. Kakashi made an effort to actually share with Iruka and not just watch him eat it all. Though after two bites, he had more than enough of the sweet taste. He pulled his mask back up.

“I thought you didn’t like sweets,” Iruka said after swallowing his third bite. “I never would have thought you’d go for dessert.”

“I don’t,” Kakashi admitted. “I don’t mind it on occasion, though. And I know you like sweets.”

Iruka paused, another piece of yōkan held between the tips of his chopsticks as he looked at Kakashi. “You didn’t have to do this just for me.”

“I know.”

“Yet you did.”

Kakashi held his gaze. “I did.”

Iruka slowly put the piece into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. Eyes lingering on Kakashi all the while. Kakashi was helpless, he couldn’t look away from the way Iruka’s lips moved. Or the way his throat bobbed. He didn’t open his Sharingan to take it in, but it was a near thing. Iruka kept looking at him the whole time. He put his chopsticks down as he licked his lips. He laced his fingers together.

“You’ve done a lot for me this evening.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. You’ve cooked.” Iruka started to move around the table, towards Kakashi. “You brought plum wine.” A little closer. “And you brought dessert when you don’t even like it.” Even closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you had some plan with all this.”

“I wanted you to have an enjoyable evening,” Kakashi said, his heart sitting in his throat.

“I did.” Iruka slid closer to kneel right in front of him. “I would like to continue enjoying it.” He reached out a hand and it hovered beside Kakashi’s face. Iruka’s cheeks were red, his eyes were dark and he was focused on Kakashi and nothing else. “But more than that, I’d like to enjoy you.”

Kakashi flushed hotly. He hesitated, feeling the hand right beside him. The offer. And he gathered his courage and pressed his cheek into it. The touch was electric. “I’d like that, too,” he admitted, quietly.

Something hungry, almost predatory glinted in Iruka’s eyes at the confession. He leaned in closer until their faces were less than a breath apart. He kept glancing down at Kakashi’s masked lips before looking back up into his eye. “May I kiss you, Kakashi-san?”

Kakashi swallowed. “If you close your eyes, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka did. Kakashi reached up a shaking hand to bare his face once more. He felt Iruka’s hot breath on his lips, felt energy thrumming in the air between them.

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

And Iruka did.

He pressed his lips against Kakashi’s and something erupted in Kakashi’s chest and flooded each part of him with liquid warmth. Iruka’s lips were soft and warm, gentle at first, then a little more insistent. The way they moved made Kakashi’s body run hot as his heart tried to beat right out of his chest. Iruka’s free arm came to wrap around Kakashi’s shoulders to hold him close and Kakashi realized that he should have been doing something with his arms and he wrapped them around Iruka’s torso to hold onto him.

He had never thought that a kiss could feel like this.

They parted, not far, and Iruka kept his eyes dutifully shut. He leaned back in and Kakashi accepted the invitation and closed the distance between them. Their mouths opened a little more this time, and Iruka made a sound that Kakashi drank in and his mind became sluggish and useless as all he could think and feel and experience was Iruka.

When they pulled away this time, Kakashi raised his arm to cover his face with his sleeve before Iruka opened his eyes. They stared at each other, flushed. Something passed between them. Some kind of unspoken understanding. Acknowledging what had just happened. What was happening right there, right then between them, unfolding and blossoming at long last. But they didn’t stare for long because Iruka’s eyelids fell shut and their lips found each other again.

Iruka guided their kisses – whether he was aware of it or not – and Kakashi followed his lead. So as Iruka grew more demanding and the movements of his lips more passionate, Kakashi reflected it with his own enthusiasm. Their tongues briefly brushed against each other and it sent sparks down Kakashi’s spine and lava pooling in his gut. Iruka cupped the back of his head as he kissed him as if both their lives depended on it, all the while pushing their bodies closer and closer together.

Hands began to roam, exploring each other’s clothed curves and edges and between the heat and the passion, need began to make itself known. A need to move forward, to get even closer. As close as two people could possibly be.

“Bedroom?” Iruka asked breathlessly, apparently feeling exactly what Kakashi felt.

“Yes,” Kakashi agreed between heavy breaths.

They wasted no time. Kakashi’s mask was back up and then Iruka stood and tugged him to his feet before insistently pulling him along as he headed to his bedroom.

The door fell shut behind them and with that, Kakashi was in the most private part of Iruka’s home. It was a modest, but comfortable space. Kakashi’s gaze immediately fell on the bed and it looked daunting and inviting all at once. Promising what Kakashi so desperately craved and so many things he also feared. But he didn’t have the time to dwell because Iruka was upon him again. Kakashi removed his mask once more to give Iruka access and they picked up right where they had left off.

Iruka moved them as they kissed and Kakashi stumbled along, backwards, until he felt something pressing against the back of his calves. But Iruka didn’t stop there. Without looking, he moved Kakashi back further, pushing him onto the bed until Kakashi fell onto soft sheets. Not a moment later Iruka was above him, knees on either side of Kakashi’s body, hands searching to understand Kakashi’s position without looking.

His hands roamed over Kakashi’s torso. “So tell me,” Iruka said, his voice dark, “did you just cook for me to seduce me?”

Kakashi watched the hands running over his chest, wondering briefly if they felt his frenzied heartbeat. “That makes it sound bad. But I can’t deny it.”

Iruka chuckled. The sound was rich and full. “You silly jōnin. Why go through all that trouble when you could have just asked me for this?”

Just asked? It hadn’t even occurred to Kakashi. And it wouldn’t have been enough either way. “I wanted to... do things properly. I didn’t think you’d take kindly to me just propositioning you like that.”

Iruka snorted. “Do you think I’m some wilting wallflower that needs to be romanced before sex?”

“No, no,” Kakashi replied. “Not at all, it’s-” He was ruining this. Fuck. He sat up. He pulled up his mask. “I’m not very good at this. Er. You can look.”

Iruka opened his eyes and sat back on his legs to give Kakashi more space and Kakashi wanted to curse himself. Things had actually been going well and he’d still managed to fuck them up. Iruka regarded him for a long moment, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. “Have you ever had sex before?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Yes. But I-” Why did his have to be so awkward? “My experiences don’t tend to involve beds. Or seduction. Or- Or people I actually like for that matter.”

“Oh,” Iruka replied. And for a moment, Kakashi was dead certain that Iruka was going to get off the bed and ask him to leave. Kakashi wasn’t suited for this. He wasn’t made for this type of thing and Iruka was finally seeing it. But instead of showing him the door, Iruka just smiled. “I understand.” Then he smirked. “Well, I’ve had my fair share of experiences in and out of beds. So I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”

Kakashi swallowed.

Iruka’s gaze softened again. “Unless this is too fast or too much. Beds can also be very good for rigorous making out. Or light making out. Or even just cuddling. Or we can leave the bed altogether.”

Kakashi shook his head. “No, I want this.”

“I won’t judge if you don’t,” Iruka said kindly.

Kakashi looked at him. “I know.”

Iruka nodded, satisfied with Kakashi’s answer. Then the glint from before returned to his eyes as he leaned closer again. “Alright then. Let me show you just how nice this bed can be.”

And just like that, Iruka closed his eyes, Kakashi took down the mask and they were kissing again. And soon, Kakashi was so caught up in Iruka’s presence and the heat and feeling of his body that the worries he’d carried with him into the evening began to disappear one by one.

Iruka pushed his hands under Kakashi’s shirt just as Kakashi’s found the skin of Iruka’s back. They undressed each other as they explored each other, one garment after the other disappearing into the unimportance that was everything outside of Iruka’s bed. Kakashi kept on his mask and Iruka marveled at his exposed body just as much as Kakashi drank in Iruka’s gorgeous form. There were no words in his mouth to describe just how beautiful Iruka was and he hoped his quiet admiration was expression enough.

Kakashi got lost in the skin-on-skin, the heat of it all, as Iruka’s hands seemed intent to touch every bit of him and learn him as if he wanted to recite him like a poem. Kakashi was no less greedy, touching that wondrously soft skin, running his hands over it, trailing his fingertips over Iruka’s hills and valleys, mesmerized by Iruka’s beauty.

Their languid exploration led to more urgency and eventually the silence of it was drowned out by moans and gasps as Iruka had him laid out on his sheets. They lavished each other with attention. Kakashi was normally used to being quiet, but Iruka wasn’t satisfied with this. He coaxed sound after sound out of Kakashi’s mouth, reveling in every single one.

Iruka wasn’t quiet, either. He wasn’t shy about letting his own pleasure be heard. What surprised Kakashi was how much he spoke. Whispers a lover would have said. Encouraging, praising and eventually, pleading and asking.

But that voice also asked permission, asked whether Kakashi liked what they were doing, asked what he wanted, what he preferred, asked for more, asked for less. Instructed and guided and never ever pressured or pushed.

And it wasn’t uncomfortable or terrifying then, to be doing this with Iruka, pressed into soft sheets under a careful, hot gaze. Letting tension build and build and build alongside the heat between them and the pounding in his chest. Until it snapped.

Until, eventually, Iruka was lying beside him as they both tried to catch their breath. Kakashi had never experienced a glow like this. Normally, this was the moment where things were wrapped up quickly so that ways could be parted and things could never be brought up ever again. But not with Iruka. Things still lingered with Iruka.

Iruka turned to him, his gaze saying a million things. “So, what’s the verdict on the bed?”

Kakashi huffed out a laugh. “Serviceable, but I think probably not the most important thing in the equation.”

Iruka grinned. “Guess we should try again sometime. Just to make absolutely sure.”

Kakashi blinked. He hadn’t been sure that this was going to happen again. But it turned his stomach to even consider this being a one time thing. He was more hooked on Iruka than he ever had been. “I guess so.”

Iruka smiled and stayed beside him for a little longer before he groaned and got up to get a some wet towels from the bathroom so that they could clean themselves up. When they were reasonably clean, he tossed them back into his bathroom without a care before dropping back into bed beside Kakashi and pulling the blanket over them.

Iruka propped his head up with his hand and looked at Kakashi. His long hair hung down freely as his hair tie had been abandoned somewhere around the same time as the rest of his clothes. “Can I ask: Your other experiences, were they all with men?”

“Some yes, some no. You know how it is, no one bats an eye if it happens on a mission.”

Iruka grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that.”

“What about you?”

“Mostly men,” Iruka said. “I’ve experimented with women before but it was never the same.”

Kakashi nodded. Something twisted in his chest at the thought of Iruka meeting others – regardless of gender – but it was overshadowed by a sense of curiosity and interest. “Do you use a henge when you meet with other men? To protect your identity?”

“I don’t. I don’t like that. And I don’t have sex with anyone who uses one, either. No, they’re mostly people I don’t really know. You can find people if you know where to look and whom to ask. I try to get to know them a little before anything more happens, but it depends on the person. Either way, they won’t talk because I won’t.”

Kakashi hummed. “Mutually assured destruction. No relationships, then?”

Iruka raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me whether I cheated on someone just now?”

“Of course not. Just... curios, I guess.”

Iruka shrugged. “There were one or two when I was younger and ‘figuring things out’. And two or three secret ones since then. None lasted very long.” He yawned. “But enough about other people. I’m here with you.”

“You started it.”

“And now I’m finishing it,” Iruka said.

“I think we both got to finish,” Kakashi teased.

Iruka wrinkled his nose. It was cute. “That was a bad joke. But I’ll let it slide.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And I appreciate this evening. Not just the intimacy. But the dinner. Thank you,” Iruka said with a bright smile.

“No need to thank me,” Kakashi replied.

It was around that time that Iruka began to battle his own body as it tried to pull him under to rest. He kept insisting that he was still very much awake and that he still had to clean up anyway all the while his eyes were closed and his speech became slurred with the hazy beginnings of slumber.

And soon after that, Iruka had fallen asleep. Kakashi observed him for a moment. Only to realize that he didn’t know how to proceed from there on. His previous experiences had never involved a real afterglow or pillow talk and certainly not someone falling asleep next to him – an insane gesture in terms of trust for a shinobi. He wasn’t sure what the protocol in this situation was. Was he supposed to leave? It felt intrusive for him to just stay and sleep in Iruka’s bed without asking. But was Iruka going to be insulted if he just left? Kakashi really felt the need to take a proper shower, but it would have been weird to just use Iruka’s bathroom like that without permission. Even if he did, what towel would he have used? What products? It wasn’t as if he had brought his own.

In Icha Icha, the scenes usually ended at this point.

Kakashi had heard that what happened now was sort of a big deal. But he’d heard people complain about their partner leaving during the night and he had heard others complaining about a partner staying over and ‘making it weird’. He definitely had no interest in making things weird.

He had thought that this was probably going to be a one-night-stand, which seemed like the sort of thing one left after. But it was apparently no longer a one-night-stand. So was he expected to stay, then?

But staying included a lot more variables. Like whether he was supposed to take a proper shower. Or whether he was supposed to get dressed again. There were still dishes in the living room. He couldn’t imagine that the social contract expected him to take care of them, but leaving them out made him uncomfortable.

Then he remembered: He had to leave for a mission the next day. Preferably early.

So as much as it pained him to pull back the covers and get up and leave Iruka’s side, it was the better way to go. It was also going to prevent him from seeing Iruka’s morning routines and his bed hair and whatever else a morning like that was going to hold. A lot of things that were probably going to reel him in even further and cause him to get even more attached to Iruka.

So he got up.

Iruka immediately startled. “Kakashi…?” he murmured, voice still heavy with sleep.

“I was just leaving.”

Iruka looked at him as if that didn’t make any sense. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Actually, I do. I’m sorry.”

Iruka frowned and Kakashi realized that he was standing at a crossroads. He could blow Iruka off completely and this was likely never happening again. Or he could be sincere, provide a good reason, and give all of this a chance.

“I’d love to stay,” he admitted. “But I can’t. Thank you for the evening, though. I would be happy to do it all again.”

Iruka gave him a scrutinizing look before nodding. “Me too. Alright. Have a good night then, Kakashi.”

“You too, Iruka.”

Those seemed to be the magic words. Iruka sank into his pillow and slowly went back to sleep. Kakashi got dressed and left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind himself. He put the leftover yōkan in the fridge and cleared the table. Once everything was tidy, he put on the last pieces of his uniform and slipped into the night.

The air was cold. But Kakashi didn’t even notice, not with the well of warmth inside of him.

Chapter Text

Present day

The meeting lasted an eternity. Iruka did his best to stay professional, but Anko’s words had rattled him and he was stuck subjected to her scrutinizing gaze.

As soon as the allotted time for the meeting was up, he fled. First the room, then the whole building. Only when he was outside and a few streets away did some of the tension in his shoulders ease up.

He wasn’t going to be able to avoid Anko forever. Probably not even for a couple of days. But he needed time to figure out the situation and regroup.

Anko was Iruka’s friend but she had a strong tendency to go overboard with prying questions. Honestly, she had a tendency to go overboard with most things. For as long as Iruka had known her, she had always been a very all-or-nothing kind of person.

Unfortunately, she was also sharper than a lot of people gave her credit for. She hadn’t bought Iruka’s excuses – which, granted, had been pretty weak – and she was probably going to keep bothering him about this until she eventually found something new to get overly invested in.

Iruka shook his head with dismay. This was no good. Just then, he felt someone’s gaze resting on him and he looked up to see two women staring. As he met their eyes, they hurriedly looked away and walked off at a quick pace.

That was even worse.

Of course, Iruka had feared as much. If Anko had heard a rumor, others probably had, too. Especially if Ino was the one spreading it. There was no telling how many people knew something was up. The thought made Iruka grit his teeth. He glanced around, afraid to find more stares or whispers or someone wearing an expression that was overly... knowing. Most people regarded him the way they usually did. Which was not at all or, if they knew him, with a polite smile. For now.

In any other case, he would have doubted that the population at large cared about the personal life of a chūnin Academy instructor. Unfortunately, though, Iruka had been the chūnin Academy instructor of the legendary hero Uzumaki Naruto. More than that, Iruka was his family. He had attended Naruto’s lavish wedding in the role of his father. That sort of thing attracted attention and now people he didn’t know greeted him or nodded at him in the street. He supposed it didn’t help that Naruto had publicly and repeatedly cited Iruka as one of his most precious people.

Normally, Iruka didn’t mind the renown he’d somehow earned by proxy.

But normally, it didn’t really matter.

Now, it did.

Iruka met another person’s eyes and he looked away quickly.

People catching on that he was not actually single was the first step towards disaster. Because that undoubtedly opened up a new question: If he wasn’t single, then whom was he with? And that, of course, could be fueled very well by the additional question of: Why was he keeping it secret? People were going to be asking themselves and each other those things because that’s what they did. And how long could a question be asked before it finally, unavoidably, found its answer?

Iruka’s stomach soured. He couldn’t let it come to that.

But all was not lost, yet. He couldn’t change what had happened but maybe he could stop it from getting worse.

The first thing he had to do was to make sure was that no additional evidence could be gathered. He turned a corner and started making his way to the Hokage Tower. Though he made sure to walk at an ordinary pace, the mere change of direction had paranoia creeping up his back and whispering into his ear. He had no publicly known reason to go to the tower. He didn’t have a shift. No one had summoned him. He didn’t have anything to take care of there. What if someone noticed? What if someone drew the conclusion that he was there to visit someone?

He clenched his hands into fists. No. That was nonsense and he knew it. Not a single person in the village was going to bat an eye at Iruka being in the Hokage Tower. He’d done too many administrative tasks over the course of years for that.

Though he kept telling himself as much, he couldn’t fully shake off the unease by the time he arrived. He tried to push it down as he reached for the door handle. It was evening and the inside of the tower was as busy as it usually was this time of day. People went about their business, coming and going, carrying documents and scrolls and other things. As Iruka walked through the hallways, he received a few uncomfortably prodding looks. It was to be expected. Ino was well-connected to most of the Konoha grapevine, but she had particularly strong attachments to the shinobi parts of it.

Iruka didn’t react to any looks he received. Mercifully, no one walked up to him. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to someone asking a direct question but he knew it wouldn’t have been pretty.

He made his way up a flight of stairs. He couldn’t talk to Kakashi directly, that would have been wildly out of place and suspicious. No, as much as he hated to, he had to go through someone else.

“Iruka-sensei,” Shikamaru greeted as he looked up from his desk. His normally flat voice betrayed some surprise. So he must not have heard the rumors, yet. No surprises there, he’d never been the type to get involved in gossip. Even back in school, he’d always found that kind of thing to be tedious and troublesome.

“Hello, Shikamaru-kun,” Iruka replied and lingered by the door, hands fidgeting with the strap of his teaching bag for a moment. He had no good explanation prepared. He just had to hope that Shikamaru was going to understand him regardless. “I just had a meeting at the Academy and there’s some information I wanted to bring over.”

Shikamaru looked at him with those keen eyes of his before nodding. “Alright. Is it a document?”

“Ah, yes. Hang on, I’ve got it right here.” Iruka opened his teaching bag and pulled out a leftover handout. “Though actually, let me just make a quick addition. To give Hokage-sama some context.” He pulled out a notepad and a pen and after a brief moment of deliberation, wrote something down. He wrote it in code, using a simple cipher that Kakashi and him had used in the past. Even though what he put to paper looked like gibberish, each stroke was like an arrow to his chest as he wrote a message asking for something he absolutely didn’t want. More distance.

When he was done, his eyes lingered on the characters for a moment and he had half a mind to scrap the whole thing. But he didn’t. He handed it and the handout to Shikamaru. Shikamaru took one quick look at both and then turned his attention back to Iruka. “I understand. I’ll take care of this.”

“Thank you,” Iruka replied, meeting Shikamaru’s eyes and finding shrewd understanding. “I’ll be off then.”

“Yeah. Bye, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka nodded and turned to leave.

He resented using Shikamaru to deliver his message, but he felt like he was out of other options. Being in close proximity to Kakashi was everything he had to avoid and he needed to let him know what was going on. If Kakashi didn’t know and was then seen unexpectedly around Iruka’s apartment or worse yet, entering it, they were done for.

Some people still regarded him with fresh interest as he headed toward the exit of the tower. Each pair of eyes turned his way felt like a blade being held to his throat. He was relieved when he pushed open the doors and stepped out.

Being back outside left him with a new kind of issue, however: He wasn’t sure what to do next.

He fidgeted with the clasp of his bag. Nervous energy was running through his veins, demanding that he do something about the situation. Something more than preventing worse outcomes. But he couldn’t fathom any reasonable course of action.

Talking to Anko again was out of the question. The chances that something like that was going to yield any positive result were incredibly slim. And even if he could somehow convince her to buy into his cover story, her opinion was ultimately not going to change much. It was one grain of sand in a desert.

Ino was a similar problem. Confronting her was absolutely not guaranteed to change anything for the better and it wasn’t going to undo anything that had already been done.

Any way to get involved risked making things worse. After all, denying accusations was exactly what a guilty person would have done. And everyone knew it. In fact, several people would have used his denial as proof that they were onto something. And Iruka couldn’t even have begrudged them this – they were in the right, after all.

Iruka sighed heavily and started making his way home. He had to trust that time was going to do its thing and eradicate this interest from everyone’s mind. It had to. Eventually.

His heart sank at that. He had no idea when ‘eventually’ was going to arrive. And all he could think about – and perhaps this was somewhat juvenile of him – was that further dates were now safely out of the question. They couldn’t risk it, simple as that. Not with people being curious and interested. Not with their eyes following him where they hadn’t before. It would have been stupid and reckless to try something now.

And even if all of the rumors disappeared overnight – Kakashi was never going to put their relationship on the line like that again. Likely, he saw this as some kind of karmic condemnation of them taking a risk and a sound reason to never do try going on a date again.

Forget the dates – Iruka was lucky if he got to see Kakashi in private again before summer.

Desperately, he racked his brain for some kind of solution. Perhaps a henge so that he could visit Kakashi somehow. Their relationship hadn’t always been just Kakashi seeking Iruka out. Before Kakashi had become Hokage, Iruka had gone to him several times instead. But regardless, it was a stupid idea. No disguise – henge or physical – was perfect. Sensory types could see right through him either way.

How ridiculous it was that their combined skills and talents appeared to be completely useless when met with a little suspicion and gossip.

Iruka could only imagine how powerless and isolated Kakashi was feeling right then. He had planned and set up such a lovely date only for this to come of it. And though Iruka wished sincerely that Kakashi didn’t assign any blame to himself, he knew his boyfriend too well to actually expect that.

He arrived at a crossroads close to his neighborhood and stood there for a moment. There was still far too much nervous energy in his system for him to go home.

So he decided to take a detour. Perhaps a longer walk was eventually going to help him get rid of all this unwanted restlessness. Somehow, someway, perhaps fueled by something in his subconscious, he ended up at the Yamanaka flower shop. It was still open, but Iruka felt his gut clench at the thought of going in and probably drawing more than one pair of eyes. And yet, perhaps he could actually set something right here. He approached carefully and peered through the glass. Ino was nowhere in sight. One of her family members was supervising the register and talking to a customer.

Ino lived close by, Iruka knew. If he really wanted to talk to her, he probably could have gone over there. But that felt somewhat out of line.

He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t just avoiding a confrontation about this very uncomfortable topic and kept going, heading toward his apartment. But when he turned the next corner he froze in his tracks.

“Iruka-sensei! What luck meeting you here!” Gai boomed. Beside him, Lee’s eyes grew huge and it looked as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Ah, Gai-sensei. Lee-kun.” Anger seized Iruka’s heart, simmering low and dangerous in his chest as he took in the sight of the only two people who could have caused this mess. He wanted to glare and yell and shout at them. But he found that he couldn’t muster the strength. He felt so on edge and so drained at once and it left him just looking at them without anything to say.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to come up with anything as Gai immediately took a stranglehold of the conversation. “Lee! It seems we are fortuitous! You have a chance to tell Iruka-sensei what you wanted to say!”

“Yes!” Lee bowed. Deeply. “I have told Ino-san about your picnic! I am so sorry!”

Iruka held onto the strap of his bag, suddenly uncomfortable. He glanced around to see whether anyone was staring at them but the street was mostly empty. Better to brush it all off before that changed. “Ah, well-”

“Lee, you have betrayed the Esteemed Iruka-sensei! Is this all you have to say for yourself?” Gai demanded with a harsh tone and matching stern features. “Do you not feel the Deepest Regret? Does your choice not Haunt your Every Waking Moment?”

“It does!” Lee looked up, still bowed, as tears were streaming down his face. He sobbed. “I didn’t mean to betray you, Iruka-sensei! I just wanted to let Ino-san know that she didn’t have to investigate you and somehow she ended up knowing everything! I’m so sorry!”

Some of Iruka’s anger evaporated as Lee bowed repeatedly to him while in tears. He looked close to prostrating himself on the ground, for goodness’ sake. “It’s okay, Lee-kun. I get it. It was a mistake.”

“It was! I would never betray your trust intentionally!” He looked up again. “But it is not okay! I want to make it up to you! Please let me do all of your chores for a week!”

“A week, Lee?” Gai prodded.

“A month- no, a year!”

“That’s not necessary,” Iruka said.

“I could assist at the Academy!” Lee offered instead. “Or I could do 500 apology laps around Konoha in your honor!”

“Only 500?” Gai shook his head. “For putting Iruka-sensei in such a position?!”

“1000 apology laps!” Lee corrected. “Or as many as your forgiveness demands! On my hands! Or on my knees!”

“That’s more like it!” Gai praised.

“Lee-kun. Gai-sensei. Please,” Iruka said exasperatedly. “I don’t need you to do anything for me. That includes running laps.”

Lee was still crying. “But I have broken the sacred trust of a fellow shinobi!”

“And you’re very clearly regretting it,” Iruka said gently. “You can stop bowing. I accept your apology.”

Lee sobbed. He stood up straight. “Thank you, Iruka-sensei.”

“Iruka-sensei...,” Gai interjected. His own eyes were brimming with tears. “You truly are an Exceptional Person! A Fountain of the Soothing Waters of Forgiveness and Friendship!” He began crying in earnest. “What a blessing you are for Konoha, sensei!”

“Ah.” Iruka chuckled nervously. He held up his hands in defense. “Really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, but it is!” Gai insisted. “Few have a heart as Mighty as yours! It is a true rarity to find a person of such a kind Spirit and Soul! You are a boon to all your peers, I’m sure. If there’s anything that we can ever do for you, do not hesitate to ask for assistance!”

Iruka smiled a little, though it was a brittle smile. What he really wanted was for them to go back in time and prevent Lee from ever speaking to Ino about this. Better yet, to prevent themselves from ever stumbling upon Kakashi and him. But it was pointless to think that way. “I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind,” he agreed instead. He doubted that it was ever going to come to that but he could appreciate their offer for what it was.

“We would be very happy to help!” Lee added. He gave Iruka a determined smile that seemed to cast away any future tears even though his eyes were still watery and his cheeks still tinged pink.

“Well then, Lee!” Gai called. “It’s time for your apology laps!”

“Huh?”

“Iruka-sensei may have opened his heart and bestowed his forgiveness upon you, but you have insulted the very Spirit of Comradery itself! Your Honor as a shinobi hangs in the balance! How do you intend to restore it?!”

“With apology laps!” Lee shouted and stood at attention. “Of course! You are right, Gai-sensei!” He turned to Iruka and bowed again. “Thank you again for your forgiveness, Iruka-sensei! I will not be disappointing you again!” And with that, he took off.

Gai nodded in satisfaction.

“There’s really no need for him to be doing that,” Iruka muttered.

“Oh, but there is!” Gai insisted. “It builds character! I have run many laps for character improvement over the course of my life and it has made me the man I am today!” He grinned and gave Iruka a thumbs-up.

“If you say so.” Iruka gave him a weak smile.

“Now, I must away and oversee the commencement of the apology laps! Have a good evening, Iruka-sensei. I do hope that recent events will not cause you too much trouble!” Before Iruka could reply, Gai took off after Lee at what Iruka could only describe as an unrealistic speed for a wheelchair.

He watched after Gai for a moment. He couldn’t tell whether this interaction had made him feel better or worse. It was nice to receive an apology and to understand what had happened, but it didn’t change things. At least he now knew that neither Lee nor Gai had had bad intentions, which, honestly, was what Iruka had expected to begin with. They were both good people. A slip-up had always been his fear.

Iruka continued walking home. He stayed away from main roads in order to avoid as many people as he could while he continued to ponder his predicament.

Honestly, Ino probably hadn’t had any bad intentions, either. She, too, was a good person. Though her actions did seem more nefarious than what Lee had done, seeing as Lee hadn’t actually intended to share as much as he had. Ino, as far as Iruka knew, had then passed on that information freely and recklessly.

Whatever their intentions, Iruka was left to deal with the fallout. There were methods of dealing with leaked information – he even touched on them in the Academy. But it was a lot more difficult, if not impossible, to use any of those methods when all the information was about him. Any attempts at discussing it were going to draw more suspicion. Most people were likely not even going to believe him, no matter what he said, unless it confirmed what they already believed. He could theoretically make up a secret girlfriend as a cover for Kakashi, but something like that would have cost a tremendous amount of effort and could go wrong in far more ways than it could go right.

Until he figured something out, he had to sit and wait and hope that the interest died down. It had to. He was just going to have to wait it out. Wait to meet Kakashi and to touch him and to hold him again. He’d waited before, he could wait again. And he’d been the subject of rumors before, too. When the whole debacle with Mizuki had happened. When he’d shown kindness to Naruto. Rumors were nothing. Hot air.

They were also a gaping chasm between him and his boyfriend.

Iruka reached his apartment. He pulled his key ring out of his pocket and shoved the key into the lock. But then he paused. He stared at his hand, holding the key.

Was that really all he was going to do? Go home to his lonely apartment and accept his fate and wait? He’d just forgiven Lee like it had been nothing. He’d decided not to go to Ino. Was that what he did? Just let people say what they wanted without repercussions? At his own cost?

At Kakashi’s cost?

That thought set something aflame in his chest. The anger he hadn’t been able to muster when confronted with Lee’s tear-stained face suddenly roared to life. Because no, he wasn’t that kind of person. He’d never been the kind of person to just accept something that wasn’t right. He pulled the key out of the door without unlocking it. He couldn’t tell people the truth. He couldn’t keep them from talking. But he could damn well do more than just accept being grist in the Konoha gossip mill.

He turned and left. Heading for Ino’s house.

Quick strides carried him back through the evening streets of Konoha. He didn’t avoid the main roads this time. He took the fastest path and ignored anyone who might have looked at him and tried to get his attention. He let his anger drive him forward, giving him no opportunity for further hesitation.

He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. But if nothing else, she deserved to be told that her actions had consequences – a concept she really should have already been familiar with. She deserved to hear that Iruka’s secrets and his life didn’t exist as entertainment for other people. She deserved to know that she’d hurt someone.

Iruka arrived at her street and immediately spotted her as she stood by her front door, apparently in the process of unlocking it.

“Ino-chan!”

She turned and her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Iruka-sensei?”

He made his way over to her. “I need to talk to you,” he said curtly.

She blinked, seemingly taken aback. “Right now?”

“Ideally. Unless you’ve got somewhere to be,” he said. He wondered whether she knew what he was approaching her about.

“No, now is fine. Do you want to talk inside?” she offered and gestured at her door.

“Yes.”

She nodded but her smiled faltered a little at his harsh tone. She unlocked and opened the door and let both of them inside. She took off her shoes as she asked, “do you want some tea? I could make some.”

“No, thank you,” Iruka said and he remained standing by the doorway, making no moves to take off his shoes. “I only need a moment and then I’ll be gone.”

Ino nodded. She stood a few paces away from him, regarding him, though her eyes didn’t quite meet his. She shifted her weight around and crossed her arms. “Well, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Why have you been spreading rumors about me?” he asked.

She blanched. Her lips parted in surprise and her eyes widened. “That’s-” She looked away, to some non-existent spot on the hallway wall. “I- I didn’t do that.”

Iruka frowned. The anger behind his breastbone grew hotter. He crossed his arms as well. “Could you do me the courtesy of not lying to my face?”

Ino hunched her shoulders instinctively at the scolding, shrinking a little into herself. It reminded Iruka of her days in his classroom, when she had gotten in trouble for talking too much when she had been supposed to be quiet. “It wasn’t a lie,” she said without looking at him. Her grip on her arms tightened. Her face did something complicated. “I didn’t mean to spread any rumors.”

“But you did,” Iruka challenged. “Or are you calling Anko-san a liar?”

She looked at him. “What? No! I just-” She eyed that spot on the wall again as if it was going to tell her what to say. “Lee-kun told me about what happened and- well- we all care so much about you- and I- I only told a few people.” She worked her mouth for moment. Then she looked back at him. “But I’m sure they’re happy for you! Everyone is! It’s so nice that you have someone!”

Iruka glowered at her. “If you care so much about me, then why didn’t you come to me and ask me before telling everyone? Or why didn’t you just leave it be? You’re too smart not to realize that it was meant to be a secret.”

“Lee-san didn’t say-“

“Lee-kun told you something unexpected. Something that no one else knew. You can’t expect me to believe that you didn’t understand what that meant,” Iruka insisted.

“I do- I mean, I did- I just-” She seemed a little panicked, nervously looking around as if there was a solution to this whole problem hidden somewhere in her hallway. “I just didn’t think it was that big a deal!”

Iruka glared. “Of course it is! And I think you know that!”

“I-”

“Now I have to put up with people prying and harassing me for information. Do you really think that that’s what I wanted?”

“I’m sure they just care about you!”

“Well, then they should care less!” Iruka snapped. “You should have cared less! This isn’t some fascinating piece of gossip, this is my life!”

Ino was frowning at this point, looking terribly conflicted.

“What I choose to keep secret, I keep that way for a reason. Whether I have a partner and what I do with that partner is between him and me. Not you or anyone else! Do you understand?”

Ino stared at him, the conflict wiped off her face and replaced with an expression of surprise. Iruka stared back. Something was ringing in the back of his mind, going off like alarm bells, but he didn’t understand them, couldn’t comprehend why they were there at all until Ino opened her mouth and said, “... him?”

Iruka’s brows knit together in confusion for a moment. Then, his own words hit him like a tidal wave. He nearly choked on his own spit. His throat grew tight. His skin felt hot. Him. “I- I mean them. Her. That’s- I meant: It’s between her and me.”

But it was too late. Ino was staring at him with those wide blue eyes, looking right into him and scrutinizing his vulnerable insides.

Iruka’s heart was beating rabbit-fast in his chest and his breathing quickened and suddenly that damned hallway became smaller and smaller and Ino’s staring, unyielding gaze became more and more oppressive and there wasn’t any damn air in this damn building. “I need to go,” he choked out. He turned around and ripped the front door open before she had a chance to speak. He didn’t want her to speak. He didn’t want to hear what she was going to say about the unfathomable truth she had just learned.

“Iruka-sensei, wait!” she called out as he left her house.

He didn’t wait. He body flickered away. And then he landed on a nearby roof and ran. His face was burning up. His eyes stung with unshed tears as his mind tried to wrap itself around the unbelievable mistake he had just made. His chest was too tight for him to draw proper breaths and he ended up collapsing to his knees before he could make it home, trying desperately to breathe right or see right or do anything that wasn’t breaking apart.

All he could do was think about what he had just done.

He had just told one of Konoha’s biggest gossips that he was seeing a man.

That the secret lover wasn’t a her but a him.

Everyone was going to know.

Iruka pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob.

Everyone was going to know and there was nothing he could do about it.

He couldn’t even go to Kakashi to cry in his arms.

-

The Hokage Residence was cold.

It was night and Kakashi was kneeling at a table in what was supposed to be his living room. He hadn’t personally done any living in this room before, though, so to him it was just one of the many cold and uninhabited spaces of this house. He had wanted to stay in his office and bury his head in paperwork to avoid spending time in the Residence as much as possible. But the truth was that he had needed a bath, some food and a bed. So far, he’d only managed to accomplish the first of those three points on his itinerary. And it was getting so late that he figured he was probably going to skip the second and succumb to the third.

Though how high his chances of actual sleep were was unclear. Ever since he’d heard that rumor at the artisan’s market, he’d become deeply worried about how Iruka was doing. He just wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and tuck him away somewhere to hide him from the world. Instead, he had to keep his distance and hope that Iruka was doing alright with what was going on.

Kakashi startled as several hours’ worth of memories of a clone hit him. He closed his eyes and parsed them as he searched for anything of interest.

Leaving the Hokage office in the early evening. Walking through Konoha in disguise and listening for information. Targeting social hotspots in particular. Iruka’s name coming up several times and always in the same context: Gai and Lee had seen him have a romantic picnic but they hadn’t seen with whom. From there on it always spiraled into speculation. No one suspected Kakashi, or even a male lover. Ino’s name came up a few times, too, being cited as a source.

So Lee must have told Ino and Ino must have told the world. Great.

That confirmed Kakashi’s primary theory about how the information had gotten out and it reinforced his belief that he had been undiscovered. But it gave him nothing new to work with. Even if he could confront Ino or Lee about what had happened – and he certainly couldn’t because he was supposed to be uninvolved – their transgressions were in the past. They couldn’t take it back or fix it. Even if Ino suddenly told everyone that she had lied, there was no way the majority of people were going to believe her.

Kakashi sighed. He couldn’t directly interfere at all, seeing as he wasn’t supposed to have any interest in this. Even approaching Iruka or summoning him to the office to offer comfort could have raised eyebrows and drawn attention at this point. If he was going to do anything at all he had to play his cards right.

Shikamaru had offered his help, maybe not even knowing what he was going to be helping with and Kakashi had dismissed him. He didn’t regret it, he was never going to make his assistant get involved any further in any of this. But he did wish there was someone he could send as a messenger or someone he could deliberate with about all of this. But it wasn’t meant to be. Shikamaru hadn’t spoken to him again after being dismissed so curtly and Kakashi wondered whether he’d driven him away. He hadn’t even said goodbye before leaving and Kakashi couldn’t begrudge him the choice. It was fine.

What wasn’t fine was what Iruka had to deal with. Especially because all of it had been caused by Kakashi’s recklessness. Kakashi had to do something. To alleviate the pressure pushing down on his boyfriend. And to keep things from escalating any further.

He looked at the folder on the table in front of him. It was the one he had banished to the inside of a desk drawer a few days earlier.

Kakashi couldn’t do anything meaningful to stop the course of the rumor itself. But perhaps he could distract from it. Gossip hounds only let a toy go when they found bigger, juicier prey. Kakashi couldn’t start a rumor about someone else and throw them to the wolves. But Konoha had been overly invested in the reputation of a Hatake multiple times before.

He hadn’t looked into the Hatake folder before, but if what the elders had said was true it was bound to include a wealth of information about his heritage and bloodline. Sure, they had most likely curated the contents to highlight the good things. But every clan had troubles in their history that no amount of curation could erase. There were always going to be hints at something darker. Whatever he found didn’t even have to be true. It just had to be close enough to the truth to be believable. Something that people had maybe wondered or speculated about in the past.

An old rumor to revive. A clan secret to expose. An obscured history to lay bare. Surely, there was going to be something.

If all else failed, there was always Kakashi’s face. Although he really hoped that it wasn’t going to come to that.

With a deep, measured breath, Kakashi took the front cover of the folder and flipped it open.

And he began to study long gone people that had carried his last name.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka woke up by himself.

His eyes fluttered open and he blinked repeatedly to adjust to the light streaming in from between the curtains. A yawn made its way out of his mouth and he stretched comfortably in his bed. That’s when he realized that he could feel the bedsheets brushing over most of his body. He was completely undressed. He reveled in the feeling of the soft blanket caressing him for a moment when the memories of the previous night came back to him. He grinned. Kakashi had shared his bed with him. Iruka rolled onto his back. The other side of the bed was empty, which was disappointing, but Iruka was elated that Kakashi had been there at all.

It was hard to believe that it had been real. That Kakashi and him had really slept together. Iruka had harbored his silly attraction for such a long time that the mere idea of anything coming from it felt like it should have been impossible.

But when Iruka looked over to the abandoned side of his bed, he found a few silver hairs resting on a dented pillow, glinting in the sunlight. And when he got up, still wrapped in a feeling of wonderful bliss, put on some fresh underwear and investigated the rest of his home, he found boxed up leftovers in the fridge and a half-empty bottle of plum wine on the kitchen counter. Not to mention the little lovebite that he discovered on the shoulder of his reflection in the bathroom mirror. That one, he spent a few moments admiring. He brushed his fingertips over it in wonder and pressed down on it gently to feel it ache in a way that made his body heat.

It took some convincing for him to stop staring at it.

When he finally managed, he got ready for the day, unable to stop smiling to himself. Sometimes, he even found himself humming. Especially when he remembered how Kakashi’s goodbye had clearly indicated that this hadn’t been a singular encounter. When he thought about it happening again.

Iruka spent the next few days in a constant state of contentment. The troublesome students seemed less annoying, the entitled shinobi at the Mission Desk less grating and life just seemed all around brighter.

Over and over, he replayed the evening in his mind. Not just the time Kakashi and him had spent tangled up in bed together, but the whole thing from start to finish. The way Kakashi had looked so dashing in his kitchen, the light conversation they had shared at the table, the surprising and incredibly thoughtful dessert. The kiss. Initially the first one and then the ones that followed it.

More than once, Iruka had to forcefully evict his daydreams from his mind so that he had a chance at whatever task or work he was trying to complete at the moment.

And as days passed and Kakashi’s return to Konoha drew ever closer, he began to wonder what it was going to be like the next time they met. He expected that it was probably going to be a little stilted and awkward. Two people trying to figure out how they fit together now that something had changed between them.

Iruka had never been happier to be so wrong.

Kakashi returned from his mission a little over a week after their night together. Once he found Iruka, he fell into step beside him on his way home from the grocery store.

Easy conversation bloomed between them immediately. This then became dinner at Ichiraku’s, then a shared way home that lacked a ‘goodbye’ and before Iruka knew it, they were back in his apartment, taking each other’s clothes off as quickly as possible before Iruka got to demonstrate to Kakashi just how much he appreciated his return.

Kakashi still looked a bit like he had that first time – a little overwhelmed and shocked that this was happening at all. Iruka was glad to make all those doubts disappear with his touches and his lips and soon, Kakashi melted under his attention once more.

Iruka had discovered at this point that Kakashi was inexperienced in a very specific way. He didn’t shy away from showing his body – safe for the lower half of his face – and was an enthusiastic participant in everything they did. But when Iruka breathed soft questions of consent into his ear or asked whether he enjoyed something, he became bashful. Not to mention the way he kept trying to stay silent, only allowing himself to unravel in every way, including his voice, upon Iruka’s request.

It made sense given the experiences he’d reported having in the past, Iruka supposed. Though he hoped that, in time, he was going to be able to soothe those inhibitions away.

Kakashi didn’t stay the second night they spent together, either. And while Iruka wanted to cling to him with all his might to keep him, he found it hard to begrudge him his departure. A ninja of Kakashi’s caliber probably had at least some things to do that weren’t warming Iruka’s bed. Still, he couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that overcame him as he watched Kakashi leave through the window.

They met again only a few days later and once again ended up in Iruka’s sheets. And with that third time, Iruka was confident that their newfound intimacy had become an established part of their relationship.

The next few occasions they met only further proved that fact. They didn’t have sex every single time, but it was a near thing. Oftentimes, they started by just spending time together, then one of them started flirting and it was a short way from a heated look to Iruka’s mattress. Iruka also noted that Kakashi now seemed to require fewer hospital visits after his missions and he wondered whether the prospect of sleeping with Iruka was motivation enough for him to not come back half-dead. The thought made him preen.

Of course, Kakashi still returned injured and exhausted far more frequently than most other shinobi in their ranks, but it was an overall improvement that Iruka decided he had at least played some kind of role in.

Now that Kakashi and him were on the same page about what they wanted, the tension between them had changed. It was no longer a steadily rising, uncertain thing heading toward some kind of inevitable explosion. Now, it was a constant low simmering. An understanding where things could – and frequently did – go.

They shared heated looks over dinner, subtly bumped their knees together or brushed their ankles against each other’s under a table and then pretended to go their separate ways only for both of their ways to lead to the same bedroom.

Sometimes, Kakashi returned from a mission late at night and knocked on Iruka’s window only for Iruka to open it, grab Kakashi by the vest and pull him inside insistently.

On occasion, they happened to see each other in the street and Iruka purposefully bumped into him to signal him to come over.

Soon, they knew each other’s tells and hints well enough and could communicate desire without a single word spoken.

And then, their interludes became more reckless.

It started with Kakashi making a veiled comment to Iruka at the Mission Desk while he was handing in a report. Ten minutes later saw them making out in the supply closet down the hall, first with Kakashi pressing Iruka against a shelf which Iruka quickly reversed when he got the chance. It was passionate and hurried and hot and they both tried to suppress any and all noises of their stolen moment.

Not long after that, they met up in a bar crowded enough that their meeting could be considered coincidental. When Iruka left, Kakashi followed after a few moments which led to them being together in the back alley behind the bar with Kakashi’s hand in Iruka’s pants. Iruka’s flushed skin burned hot in the night air and he bit into his fist to contain his moans.

Once, they decided to have another spar and the panting and sweating of combat turned into a different kind of panting as Iruka pushed Kakashi up against the nearest tree and teased him until he begged.

They were relentless. All over each other as often as they could be with next to no self-restraint.

Sometimes, Iruka thought that he should have been the responsible person between the two of them, keeping them from their riskier endeavors. But he couldn’t find it in himself to put a stop to it. What they did was thrilling and incredibly fun and Iruka couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so desired.

And besides. Between the two of them they had enough means of quick escapes, lowering the risks of actual discovery to something acceptable. It wasn’t as if anyone was really interested in what either of them were doing in their free time, anyway.

So they kept going. With each encounter they learned more and more about each other. Iruka learned how Kakashi liked to be touched the most, what words made him shudder and which ones made him whimper. He became familiar with Kakashi’s flushed face and body, his dark, lust-drunk eye and the cadence of his voice when he came undone. And for each new thing Iruka learned, Kakashi learned one about him in kind.

Kakashi’s mask always stayed on while Iruka could see him. Iruka never demanded anything else, but he did hope that someday, Kakashi was going to reveal himself completely. Iruka didn’t care what the mask was hiding, but he wanted to see the shape of his mouth and watch his lips part when he panted.

Iruka was never going to ask for that, though. He was happy just to be with Kakashi the way they were.

Whatever way that was.

They never spoke about that. Neither of them ever asked to put a label on what they were. There were no discussions about things like exclusivity or feelings. There didn’t need to be. What they had was enough. They were close friends, still. Now, they just also had sex. As a bonus.

One time, Iruka asked Kakashi whether he’d missed him in between panting and moaning and Kakashi had replied with an equally breathless ‘yes’. But it had been an admission made in the throes of pleasure while Kakashi had been compromised by what they had been doing.

Iruka for his part had no interest in seeing anyone else. He didn’t know what Kakashi was doing when they weren’t together and sometimes he found himself wondering whether Kakashi was still having those ‘experiences’ while out on missions. But when he pictured Kakashi hooking up with a teammate after a trying assignment or even just being propositioned by someone else like that, something curdled in his gut and his chest felt tight.

They weren’t exclusive, though. They weren’t anything that was properly defined. So if Kakashi was seeing other people, that was fine.

Iruka dismissed just such a thought while he was heading home one evening in early May. It was a warm one. Fire Country was already on the cusp of summer. The last time Iruka had seen Kakashi had been during the cherry blossom. They’d taken a walk together under the cover of pink petals and had ended up trading kisses and touches tucked away in a secluded little clearing. And eventually, Iruka had spent time staring at Kakashi’s silver hair as he had plucked petal after petal out of it.

Now, the cherry blossom had faded and the trees were full of rich, green leaves. The scent of late spring was lingering in the air that evening. Something beside him shifted and suddenly, Iruka wasn’t walking by himself anymore.

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka greeted as he kept walking. Honorifics may have fallen away between them but only when no one else was around to hear it. Iruka smiled at him. “I didn’t realize you were back already.”

“Well, there wasn’t a lot of time for you to realize that,” Kakashi pointed out. “I only got back a little while ago.”

Iruka hummed. “Welcome back, then.”

“Thank you. Though you might save your welcome for after you’ve seen my mission report,” Kakashi quipped.

Iruka shot him a sharp look. “You know, if you’re aware that your mission report is garbage, you could redo it from the get-go? And save everyone the trouble?”

Kakashi eyed him. “I could. I suppose. But you know how much I enjoy watching your face get red.”

“And you know very well that there’s much simpler ways of making that happen,” Iruka replied in a low voice.

Kakashi’s eye sparkled. “I’m well-aware, sensei.”

Iruka smirked. “Anyway. I was just on my way to get some dinner. Care to join me? If you’re not too exhausted, of course.”

“Not at all. Lead the way.”

Iruka did. He’d originally planned on getting something from a convenience store to eat at home but the game had suddenly changed. Iruka’s heart was beating fast and he suppressed a giddy cackle as he imagined where all of this could lead. Iruka led them to a tiny yakitori place that Kakashi and him had been to before. It was hidden between other, bigger establishments and consisted of one narrow but long room with several tables and a bar. It was never full but also never empty and there was always at least one patron too deep in his cups.

Kakashi and Iruka entered and sat at the furthest table in the corner. The waiter – who was also the cook and the owner – came by quickly to hand them the single-page menus, took down their order and left again.

Iruka took a cursory look around the place, noting how no one was paying them any particular mind.

“How were things while I was gone?” Kakashi asked casually once they were alone. It was enough to prompt Iruka to talk at length about everything that had happened while Kakashi had been absent from the village. There weren’t a lot of interesting stories to share but a few anecdotes that were funny enough to make Kakashi chuckle or unexpected enough to make his sole exposed eyebrow rise in surprise. Iruka’s favorite story was the one about a major organizational mishap at the Tower which had been frustrating at the time but made for a good retelling and had Kakashi get annoyed on Iruka’s behalf.

He only stopped when their food arrived and resumed right after with further breaks to chew.

The yakitori was good, as Iruka had expected it to be. Just when he finished his first skewer he felt something. A sandal-clad foot brushing up against the side of his calf under the table in a familiar fashion. Iruka bit back the smirk that threatened to spread across his face as he leaned his leg into the touch as a gesture of reciprocation.

The foot brushed back downward and retreated all the while Kakashi didn’t let a single thing show above the table. Iruka picked up his second skewer and pulled off the topmost bite with his teeth as he calculated his next move.

“This is really good,” he eventually said as he considered his chicken yakitori. “You should try some.” When he looked up, Kakashi’s mask was already back in place and Kakashi was staring at him intently.

“If you’re sure,” he said and reached out to take the skewer from Iruka’s hand. It was impossible to do without their fingers brushing and both of them let the contact linger for much longer than was necessary. A spark passed between them.

Iruka politely averted his eyes to let Kakashi take a bite but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he pressed his foot against Kakashi’s under the table while he did.

“You’re right,” Kakashi said a moment later as he returned the skewer with one fewer pieces of chicken on it. “Now you should try mine.”

Iruka looked back at him and raised his hand to take Kakashi’s untouched shiitake skewer only to freeze when Kakashi instead held it up directly to his face as something challenging glinted in his eye. Iruka swallowed and subtly glanced around. The waiter was busy yelling at the drunkard demanding that he pay his bill. And the handful of other people in the establishment were busy with their own food.

So Iruka leaned forward and stared deeply into Kakashi’s eye as he wrapped his lips around the tip of the skewer, enveloping one of the mushrooms with his mouth, before pulling it off with his teeth and chewing slowly. He never looked away. Not when he swallowed. Nor when he then licked his lips, tasting the rest of the umami flavor.

“Delicious,” Iruka said with a hot gaze and his mouth settled into a confident smile.

Kakashi’s ears were red. His face was almost glowing over the edge of the mask. He kept holding the skewer up in mid-air as if stunned by the event he himself had provoked.

“Aren’t you going to finish that?” Iruka teased as he propped his face up with one hand.

Kakashi startled back into action. “Maa, you seemed to enjoy it far more than I did, sensei.”

Iruka opened his mouth to take advantage of the line about ‘enjoyment’ when he remembered himself. While no one was looking at them, they could very well be listening. So as much as he wanted to have some other enjoyment tonight, he wasn’t about to say it. “It’s very tasty, so you should have some of it yourself.”

“Very well,” Kakashi replied, seemingly unfazed by Iruka putting a damper on things.

They both continued to eat, but the energy between them had undoubtedly shifted. Expectations had been created. Kakashi was done eating in the blink of an eye and had emptied his beverage in the blink of another. Iruka wasn’t a slow eater but he didn’t have a chance to match Kakashi’s insane speed. Still, he hurried as much as he could. Even without speaking, it was clear to both of them that they wanted to get out of there.

Kakashi called for the check and Iruka handed him the money for his part of the meal so that Kakashi could settle the bill.

Neither of them could be out of there fast enough. They escaped onto the street, which was relatively busy, and quickly made their way into the direction of Iruka’s apartment. Iruka’s heart was beating fast, his face was already hot and anticipation sat in his gut. So much in fact, that once they’d put some distance between themselves and others, he grabbed Kakashi’s wrist and pulled him into the nearest alley.

Kakashi was upon him at once, pressing him into the wall of whatever building they had ended up beside. “Right here, sensei?” Kakashi whispered into his ear. “I didn’t know you were this impatient.”

“I’m not,” Iruka replied half-truthfully. “Not here. I want to take my time with you tonight. But we could skip some of the way, don’t you think?”

Kakashi’s eye twinkled. “Of course. Good idea.”

And without wasting another moment, Kakashi body flickered both of them into a different alley that was much closer to Iruka’s home, still concealed from the general public.

“Bedroom window?” Iruka asked as he looked into Kakashi’s eye.

“Of course.”

They split ways and Iruka hurried to his apartment to get to his front door. His excitement made him fumble with the keys much longer than he had any right to before he finally managed to unlock his door and enter his apartment. He ditched his shoes and didn’t hesitate to get to the bedroom. As soon as he opened the window, Kakashi appeared on the windowsill and let himself be pulled inside by the wrist.

Iruka shut the window, turned to face his visitor and launched himself at Kakashi.

From there, things went in one of the ways that they usually did. Kakashi and Iruka alternated between Iruka keeping his eyes shut so that they could kiss and Kakashi keeping his mask up so that they could do everything that required Iruka to see. They pulled each other close as they kissed, muffling sounds of eagerness and pleasure. They tugged off each other’s clothing as if under time pressure to get everything out of the way as quickly as possible. And then, they ended up on the bed.

Iruka purposefully slowed things down from that point onward, wanting to enjoy and to savor. And to tease, at least a little. After all, Kakashi turned wonderful shades of red and made the most delightful sounds whenever Iruka teased him enough.

They spent time together like this, unhurriedly giving and seeking pleasure. Doing some things they had already indulged in in the past and a few new things that seemed fun to try. That was another thing that Iruka had quickly discovered: Trying things in bed with Kakashi was fun. Of course, some of them made Kakashi nervous or flustered but that was its own reward, in a way.

Eventually, they found their mutual release and as the heat and urgency died down they found themselves locked in each other’s arms in a comfortable embrace. Trading touches and caresses. And Iruka relished this part just as much as what had preceded it. He adored the gentle intimacy.

It was as almost heartbreaking, then, as it usually was, when Kakashi finally extracted himself from Iruka’s grasp to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

And for the first time, that tight uncomfortable feeling in Iruka’s chest was too strong to ignore. It forced his mouth open and words across his lips. “Why don’t you stay tonight?”

Kakashi froze before he could get up. It took a moment for him to respond. When he finally managed, it was with a simple, even, “Why?”

Innocuous as the question was, it surprised Iruka. He hadn’t thought that it was something that needed explaining. “Why not?” he countered. “It’s nice having someone sleeping next to you.”

Kakashi looked back at him. His gaze had lost the warmth it had had moments ago while they had been cuddling. It was now cold and unreadable. “Shinobi tend to wake up at the smallest disturbance.”

“It’s different with a...-,” Iruka hesitated, “- a partner like this. And it’s something that can be practiced.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Kakashi hedged, looking away again.

Iruka frowned. “Why? Do you have another assignment already?”

“No.”

“Okay, so, did Godaime-sama request your attendance tomorrow morning?”

“No.”

Iruka furrowed his brow. “Then why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Kakashi hesitated again. “If someone found me here, it would be very difficult to explain away. You know that.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “You’re being paranoid. People don’t just waltz into my home out of nowhere. And I don’t get a lot of visitors in general, in case you couldn’t tell. Not since Naruto left, anyway.”

“What about ANBU?”

Iruka gave him a flat look. “How often do you think I get summoned by ANBU, really?”

Kakashi didn’t respond to the question. He continued looking away.

“You don’t want to,” Iruka observed and it was like an arrow through his heart.

Kakashi’s shoulders rose a fraction. He hesitated for another moment before he said, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Iruka asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I just can’t.” With that, Kakashi got up and started putting his clothes back on.

Perturbed by the turn the conversation had taken and desperate to understand, Iruka stood up as well. He slipped into his own underwear and pants. “You’re being weird,” he said as he pulled up the garments. “What is this about?”

“It’s not about anything,” Kakashi replied without looking at him. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway. I just can’t stay over.”

Iruka frowned as he looked at the side of Kakashi’s head. “That’s a shitty answer.”

“It’s a true answer.”

Iruka groaned in annoyance. “I thought we were done with this.”

At that, Kakashi looked back at him. “With what?”

“With you being a cagey asshole. What, I’m good enough for a fuck but not good enough for an explanation?”

Kakashi’s eye was wide. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re acting like it!”

Kakashi looked aside again. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move to leave, either. He just stood there, looking conflicted. As if he was unsure about how to proceed.

Iruka sighed. “What are we doing, Kakashi?”

Kakashi glanced back at him. Something troubled and guarded hung around him. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What is this? What are we?” Iruka asked in spite of his better judgment.

“I thought we were friends,” Kakashi admitted and his voice sounded unbearably small.

“Friends don’t normally end up in bed together almost every time they meet. Or is that different for you?”

“It’s not.”

Iruka crossed his arms. “So you would agree that we aren’t just friends, then.”

Kakashi looked at him again. “Do we really need to label it?”

Iruka hesitated, suddenly taken aback. He hadn’t even realized that that’s what he was arguing for. A label felt oppressive and limiting. It felt like something destined to push Kakashi away. Iruka liked what they were doing, regardless of what it was called. He just maybe also wanted a little more. For Kakashi to feel comfortable spending the night. Or if not that, to understand why it was such an issue. “No, we don’t.”

Kakashi continued to look at him expectantly.

“I just want to know what’s going on. You spend time with me and you have sex with me. But you don’t ever stick around. I’d get it if it was a one-night-stand. Or if sex was all we did. But it’s not either of those things. We can be friends before sleeping together but not right after?”

“It’s not the same, is it? Before and after?”

“Isn’t it? Does it matter?”

“Sort of.”

“Why?”

Kakashi didn’t answer.

Iruka frowned. “If you don’t want to, just say it. It’s kind of insulting for you to try and find excuses like this.”

Kakashi paused. He clenched his fists in a rare display of frustration. “Fine. I don’t. I don’t want to stay in bed with you afterwards. I don’t want to sleep beside you and I don’t want to wake up next to you. Happy?”

Iruka wasn’t. Not at all. His heart was shattering in his chest. “So it’s really just the sex,” he said, refusing to let any of the pain show.

“It is. Are you okay with that?”

No. “Yes. Of course. Just meaningless sex.”

“Right.”

“Good.” Iruka swallowed. “Well then, get on with it. You were on your way out, weren’t you?”

“I was.” Kakashi looked at him one last time before turning away. Then he opened the window and left.

Iruka barely managed to close it again and to pull the curtains shut before he began to sob. He covered his mouth with his hand as tears rolled down his face.

He felt like he’d just destroyed something precious.

-

Kakashi closed the door to his apartment.

The silence and emptiness felt oppressive and vast when faced with Kakashi’s roiling, anguished emotions.

“Why,” he muttered to himself. He stared at nothing as the scene, just a few minutes old, replayed in his head, a gaping wound opening in his chest. He remembered Iruka’s face. He remembered his harsh words.

He remembered fleeing.

And before he knew it, he’d punched the wall. He stared at the spot where his fist had made contact and withdrew, leaving a cracked dent behind.

Things had been going so well. Iruka and him were friends who got together for something more than that sometimes. It had been good. It had been something that Kakashi had been able to actually handle. And yet, he’d fucked it up.

He hadn’t meant to fight with Iruka. He hadn’t wanted to lie to him, either. But he couldn’t have said the truth, either.

That he wanted nothing more than to stay after they slept together. That he wanted to sleep beside Iruka and to listen to his soft breathing and his heartbeat like the most soothing melody. That he wanted to wake up next to him and give him a kiss on the cheek before cooking him breakfast. That he then wanted to stay for as long as Iruka could stand to have him.

That Iruka made Kakashi crave all these things without Kakashi really understanding why.

Of course, Iruka didn’t like being ditched like a dirty secret all the time. Kakashi had long since suspected something like it considering the way Iruka frowned whenever he left. Each of those frowns had heaped more guilt onto his conscience, but it had been something he had been willing to bear.

He’d tried to convince himself that those frowns were temporary things, brought on by the chemicals of sex and the displeasure of disentangling himself from a bedmate, no matter their identity.

But that hope had been for nothing, because apparently each escape had left Iruka with a deepening hurt, perhaps even something close to anguish.

Kakashi had never wanted to hurt him. But he simply couldn’t give Iruka any more than what he had already given. He couldn’t let things between them become more than what they already were. For one, Kakashi simply didn’t do romance and feelings. He wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. Even with these newfound wants and cravings, he wasn't sure how he could actually go about fulfilling them. He wasn't that kind of person. And he was probably also never going to be that kind of person. He was useless at doing something so honest and genuine, at taking on a role like that.

And also, while he could accept keeping Iruka as a friend, he was not willing to put him through the kind of endangerment that would have come with them becoming anything else.

Not that there was anything else for them to become. It seemed... outlandish for Kakashi to be something like that. Someone truly meaningful to someone else. One half of a whole. Perhaps he was deluding himself thinking that Iruka ever would have let it go that far.

After all, Iruka had stated that meaningless sex was what he wanted. And Kakashi had been told more than once to trust in Iruka’s decisions.

Honestly, the revelation should have left Kakashi relieved. Iruka had established that things weren’t going to escalate any further. He was safe from Kakashi becoming more to him. Safe from the disappointment that would have come with Kakashi taking on any other role in his life. Perhaps not safe from whatever cruel fate awaited those close to Kakashi, but at least a little safer than he could have been. It was better this way.

But what Kakashi felt was nowhere close to relief. He felt awful. Desperate. He felt like he’d just let something get away from him, like he’d ruined something wonderful with just a few words.

At least that was on brand for him.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe and so he pulled his mask down to make it easier. It didn’t help.

He tried telling himself that what had just happened meant nothing. After all, that had been the whole end result of their conversation. A mutual agreement that nothing was going to change. That no further expectations were had. That they were going to keep doing what they had been doing for the last weeks.

And yet, Kakashi couldn’t shake the profound feeling of loss that threatened to consume him.

Chapter Text

Present day

Iruka didn’t sleep that night.

He somehow made it back home, got changed and climbed into bed but then he just stared at the ceiling with wide, tearful eyes as his mind went in circles, orbiting the awful mistake he’d made.

A shinobi blurting out one of his most treasured secrets. His parents would have been disappointed.

This was going to have consequences.

He was haunted by images of how vicious the people of Konoha could be. They had tormented fugitives from other nations in the past. They had ostracized those who didn’t fit in. And they had shunned and cast out Naruto. Back when he had just been an innocent, lonely, little boy.

That thought led him down another path. The one that made him realize that once Naruto returned from his assignment, he was going to hear the rumors. He was going to know that the person he’d been introducing women to had lied and been in a relationship all along. With a man, no less.

The realization only made Iruka’s spiral steeper and by the time the sun crested over the horizon, he could just as well not have laid down in bed at all.

His alarm clock rang, mocking him and his sleep-deprivation and he got up, still locked into his own mind so deeply that the surrounding world was a distant, numb mass of shapes. He went through the motions of getting ready without wasting a thought on it and before he knew it, he was fully dressed, with his teaching bag slung over his shoulder.

Only when he took in the sight of himself in his mirror did some of those distant pieces of perception reconnect.

And a paranoid kind of doubt snuck up on him to replace the numbness. He stared at himself and examined his reflection closely. He was wearing a standard issue uniform, same as any other chūnin in the village. But was he wearing it right? Was there something off about it, something that could have drawn the attention of others and led them to some kind of conclusion or confirmed some kind of suspicion? What about the way he wore his hair? He’d never considered it before but maybe it gave something away. He looked at his teaching bag. He remembered being teased for it once, years ago, though he couldn’t quite recall in what way. Maybe he should have looked for another one.

What was he even thinking?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts that his lack of rest and some uncanny paranoia had put there. He looked the same as he always did. And that was fine. He knew that it was fine.

It was too late for it not to be, anyway.

He tore himself away from his mirror. He’d wasted far too much time already. So he turned and left his apartment to go to the Academy.

Once he was outside, he almost immediately began to feel watched. Though he couldn’t find anyone who would have been observing him. Not obviously, at least. But in a shinobi village, that didn’t mean a lot. A whole night had passed since the incident and Iruka wouldn’t have been surprised if Ino had already gone to someone to share the new information she had learned.

There was no point in taking detours or back alleys, it wasn’t going to change anything at this point, so Iruka took the fastest route to the Academy. It was early and the streets weren’t that busy, but he still caught one or two people glancing his way. And even though it was only one or two it felt like millions. Like he was being watched and judged at every corner.

He tried to read something in the people who looked at him, brief as those opportunities were. To find disgust or shock in their features. But everyone was strangely unreadable to him.

When he arrived at the Academy and made his way over to the faculty lounge, it was clear that what had been Anko’s information the day before was now a shared interest among more of his colleagues. Though they greeted him as politely as they usually did, he noted that they paid far more attention to him as he went to grab some things from his desk. And for all that people were difficult to read, it was impossible not to see how some of them were dying to ask him something.

So he quickly made his escape to head to his classroom.

The kids were caught up in their usual chatter before he entered the room and everyone quickly scattered to their desks by the time they saw him. He couldn’t tell whether any of them looked at him any differently. They, at least, probably weren’t going to be invested in the private life of their teacher.

As the hours passed, Iruka caught some whispers and some snickering among the students and he couldn’t help the way he tensed as if every noise was directed at him. He clutched his piece of chalk tightly as he looked at the blackboard and resolutely told himself not to overreact again. It hadn’t led anywhere good the last time. When he felt like he had a grip on his emotions, he turned to deliver a light scolding to the students talking during class before immediately resuming the lesson.

When lunchtime came and the students happily hurried out of his classroom, Iruka stayed behind. He hadn’t packed any lunch, he realized with dismay, but he didn’t like the idea of going out during midday to throw himself into the lunch break crowd for a lousy store-bought bentō. It was noon, so the Yamanaka flower shop had been open for hours already. And if Ino wasn’t busy with her duties as a shinobi, she was likely there. Handing her customers flowers and secrets alike.

His chest clenched painfully and he hunched his shoulders. He tried to take calming, measured breaths to keep himself collected. It wasn’t going to do anybody any good if he was cowering in the corner in panic by the time the kids got back.

Iruka opted to distract himself as much as he could and while going over the lesson plan wasn’t nearly enough to take his mind off the wreck that his life was slowly becoming, it helped him to guide his thoughts away from the worst of it for a bit.

Lunch break concluded eventually and Iruka pushed through the rest of the school day as best he could. Once he sent the kids home for the day, he left as well. He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye to the other teachers – too afraid of what they might have heard by then – and headed straight for the exit. Normally, he tended to be one of the last people around, so much so that people frequently expected him to lock up when he left. But he was going to let someone else step up that day.

There was mercifully no Mission Desk shift on the agenda, so Iruka could hurry right home. He avoided the masses by taking emptier streets this time, not wanting to be subjected to their stares and not wanting to bear the disdain that was sure to be written across some of their faces at that point. He stopped by a convenience store to pick up some dinner before hurrying back to his apartment.

When he finally sat down to eat, feeling ravenous and empty, he fully realized that he’d survived the day without any bad altercations. One day. It had felt like more than that. How many more was he going to spend like this? How many was he going to spend in a far worse situation? He stared down at the cup of instant ramen sitting on his table.

He wondered what Kakashi’s day had been like. He would have given anything to hear his boyfriend talk about it. He sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut. He was disappointed in himself, crying like this again. He was an adult. He was a shinobi. He’d seen so much hardship and pain.

But being apart from Kakashi without any means of real communication, without knowing what was going on in Kakashi’s head or Kakashi’s life was tearing him apart.

He wanted Kakashi to come over and hold him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. At the same time, he knew that he couldn’t expect or ask that of him.

Kakashi not having been compromised was the only silver lining in this whole disaster of a situation. And Kakashi couldn’t jeopardize his own reputation. Not just for his own sake, but for the sake of the village. The village needed Kakashi. It needed him to be a person they could look up to, admire and have nearly unwavering faith in. It needed him to stand in for all of them, representing them to the outside world.

The village needed Kakashi to be the person they already thought he was.

Kakashi could never be Iruka’s boyfriend. Not to them.

Perhaps, Iruka thought as another sob tore itself free from his lungs, it was going to be better in the long run if Kakashi and him didn’t see each other anymore. The thought was a vicious thing, something with claws that sank into Iruka’s soft heart and started tearing it bloody.

People were going to look for a man in Iruka’s life. Maybe even outside of his life. And Iruka didn’t know how much of his relationship with Kakashi had been shielded by the general assumption that Iruka was interested in women. Now, thanks to Iruka’s stupidity, the rules had changed.

As soon as a decoy shadow clone of Kakashi’s was revealed as such, eyebrows were going to raise. Suspicious were going to be voiced. Conclusions were going to be drawn.

Their relationship had become a calculation of risks and chances the moment Kakashi had donned the Hokage hat for the first time. So far those calculations had been acceptable. But now the risks were growing. Perhaps they were even becoming certainties.

Iruka grit his teeth. He slammed his fist onto the table. The cup ramen jolted. Iruka was shaking.

That couldn’t be it. What Kakashi and him had was precious and special and good. So very damn good. It was love. The kind of life-altering true love that not everyone found and that you held onto for dear life. Even if it was also difficult. Even if a lot of people were never going to see its value. Their relationship, their love, was not something to throw away because things got tough. It was something worth fighting and enduring for.

If it meant seeing Kakashi less, so be it. But he couldn’t just give up. Not without a fight.

Iruka wiped the tears from his eyes. The timer for his cup ramen went off. He silenced it before peeling the lid fully off the plastic cup, releasing a small cloud of steam. There were far worse dinners than this, anyway.

The next morning found Iruka still extremely weary. He looked at the bags under his eyes in the mirror and sighed at the sight of himself before trying to reach the resolve he’d mustered the evening before and heading out.

Paranoia was right by his side as he made his way to the Academy again.

He couldn’t ignore that over a full day had passed since the incident. The odds that Ino hadn’t told anyone by now were practically zero. And with each passing minute, the information had a chance to spread further.

Iruka steeled himself to brave for another day. He braced himself for it to be the day. The day that one of his most detrimental secrets became public knowledge.

He once again kept glancing around for any new looks or reactions as he made his way to the Academy. As expected, some attention was thrown his way, though not with any more decipherable dislike than in the past. Iruka made sure to buy a lunch on the way this time. Once he arrived at the Academy building, he held fast onto his resolve and didn’t escape from the other teachers at the first opportunity he got. Instead, he met their eyes, daring anyone to say anything. But, curious as they appeared to be, no one ever did.

Class passed much the same as it had the day before. Iruka wasn’t sure whether the slight uptick in whispers was something he imagined or something factual, but he shut down every conversation that unfolded while the kids were supposed to learn.

He ate lunch at his desk in the teacher’s lounge with the same air of defiance he’d projected that morning and no one approached him. He was lucky that Anko wasn’t there that day. She probably wouldn’t have had any qualms about nagging or bothering him about whatever she thought to be true. Or anything new that she might have learned.

But she wasn’t there and so no one said anything. Not the teachers, not the kids, not the parent who was waiting for him by the gate after class to ask something about their child. Nothing happened. So by the time Iruka was leaving Academy, he was tense and anxious. He’d been inside all day. During that time, everything and anything could have been passed around the village without him knowing.

Now all that was left was for the other shoe to drop.

Iruka had another shift-free evening. He had to provide himself with some kind of dinner. He knew that Kakashi and him weren’t going to be seeing each other for a while but he imagined Kakashi’s frown if he ever found out that Iruka had eaten nothing but convenience store food and takeout in all that time. So he vowed to finally do what he’d been meaning to do for years and learn to cook.

Of course, cooking meant getting ingredients. And getting ingredients meant braving a trip to the grocery store. There was one on his way home but it was close to the market. A gossip hotspot.

Iruka took a deep breath. He was going to have to face reality eventually. He knew that much.

He dodged more gazes turned his way and caught more people clearly whispering about him as he walked into the busier parts of Konoha. He tried not to pay them any mind, tried to find some kind of high ground to be above it all but it proved more and more difficult with every pair of eyes that turned his way. Paranoia sat on his shoulders again and anxiety climbed up his throat, taking his heart along with it. Perhaps he’d made a mistake coming here. Another mistake in a long, long line of them.

He wasn’t sure what his other options were – wasn’t sure of much, the way his mind was suddenly spinning – but his body was demanding for him to run. Shut himself in. Not yet, he couldn’t handle it, yet, it was too soon for him to face them all.

So he turned around to leave the crowd. Only to collide directly with another person.

“I’m so sorry,” Iruka said hurriedly, already looking for an exit to push past the person he’d run into.

But as he made to step aside to flee, the person stepped in his way, blocking his escape route. Forcing Iruka to look at them.

It was a man. A chūnin, if Iruka remembered correctly, but not one that he knew a lot about. He was tall and broad-shouldered and packed with muscle. His dark hair was cut very short, his nose had a bump as if it had been broken and not properly healed before. His dark eyes, set into a face with strong features, were fixed on Iruka.

Iruka heard a ringing in his ears as he took a step back.

“Iruka-sensei,” the chūnin greeted as he crossed his thick arms in front of his chest.

“Ah-” Iruka swallowed, but his dry throat felt like sheets of sandpaper grating against each other. “Erm. Hello?”

“What a coincidence running into you here.”

Iruka’s mind screamed ‘enemy’ but he tried to ignore it. “Sorry,” he choked out, “you have me at a disadvantage. You are...?”

“Koga Sadao,” the man – Sadao – introduced himself with a deep voice. “You taught my little brother at the Academy.”

Iruka recalled the name then. “Right, yes. Kunio-kun, right?” Iruka asked. “He was a good kid. I hope he’s doing well. But I actually just wanted-”

“Iruka-sensei,” Sadao interrupted with a sternness to his voice. “Won’t you have a little chat with me?”

Iruka didn’t look away as he replied, “Now’s not a good time.”

“Oh, I won’t take too long,” Sadao said.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Sadao glanced around. “Something I heard about you. But not here. Too many people.”

Iruka opened his mouth. He closed it again. He balled his hands into fists and gave one stern nod. Whatever this guy had in store for him, he was severely underestimating Iruka’s ability to handle himself. “Fine.”

“Let’s talk over there.” Sadao nodded his head into the direction of an alleyway. “Should be private enough. After you.”

Iruka should have left then and there and he knew it. But he also knew that there was no escaping this, not really. Perhaps he could have run from Sadao. But there was always going to be another one like him. Now that everything was out in the open, Sadao was only the first of his kind. So Iruka walked into the alley, ready to defend himself and to show his man that he was not to be messed with.

Once they were far enough away from the crowd Iruka turned back. Sadao was standing a few paces away, eyeing him. “Alright,” Iruka said. “Say your piece so we can both be done with it.”

“Very well.” Sadao cleared his throat. “So,” he started and suddenly his confidence wavered. He looked at the wall beside him. He crossed his arms again but his fingers were clutching at his sleeves. “We don’t know each other well but I- I had to ask.” He took a deep breath and looked back at Iruka. “How do you make it work with a civilian woman?”

Iruka stared. He blinked. After a moment of silence all he could muster was a single, bewildered, “huh?”

“I know it’s none of my business how you do it, sensei. But mine has this strict policy about ‘no weapons in the house’, but that can’t possibly be a solution, right?”

“I-“

“Because what am I going to do if I’m at her place and something happens? I need to be ready, right?” he asked, gesticulating wildly. “I’m trying to make tokubetsu, you know. kenjutsu tokubetsu. Can you imagine a kenjutsu tokujō showing up without his gear? It’d be embarrassing!”

Iruka just stared.

“And I get that it’s different for her, but how can I make her see my side? The shinobi side?”

Sadao was staring at him now, pleading with his eyes, and Iruka thought a bomb had gone off beside him as all that he could hear was a high-pitched noise. He couldn’t understand what Sadao was asking of him. What Sadao was saying to him. Where was the fight? Where were the insults? “I- I think you got me confused.”

Sadao sighed. “I get it, sensei. You want to protect her, right? Not let anyone know? I’ve been there.” Iruka was shocked to find a big hand clasping his shoulder. “Let me tell you: It doesn’t work.”

Iruka continued to stare, mouth open but no words coming out.

“What are you doing, harassing Iruka-sensei?” a voice called and Iruka and Sadao tuned to see a woman walking into the alleyway, approaching him.

“I’m not harassing anyone,” Sadao said as he pulled back his hand.

“Shame on you,” the woman replied with no regard for his words, “can’t you see how distraught he is? It’s difficult enough loving someone from Suna-”

Suna?!

“-as it. No need to make a big fuss about it!”

Iruka had no idea what to do or say in this situation. He didn’t even know what this situation was, so all he could do as rational thoughts thoroughly abandoned him was stammer something that probably didn’t even register as coherent before he body flickered away to make his escape.

-

Kakashi stared at the folder on his desk.

It looked innocuous. Boring, even. No different from any of the other files he handled on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps a bit thicker than average. That was about it.

But its contents were imprinted into his mind from the thorough examination he had given it two nights ago. Ever since he’d flipped open that cover and read those first few lines, words had begun to haunt him.

Kakashi had thought that if he was ever going to look at the contents of the file, it was going to feel like a clinical examination of people that were perfect strangers to him. After all, he could see the whole thing for the blatant manipulation tactic that it was. And in part, it had been like that. But not entirely. Even the first few words – ‘The Hatake clan existed long before the founding of Konoha’ – had awoken some fuzzy, distant memories that had slept in Kakashi’s mind for decades. They danced in front of his mind’s eye now in blurry shapes and soft words in a long gone voice.

His father showing him a big map, saying ‘This is what it used to look like. This is where we lived.’

‘We?’ little Kakashi had asked.

‘Well. Our ancestors.’

Those ancestors were now nothing more than words on paper. But some of them sounded familiar. Their names brought more of those hazy memories to his mind. Of his father telling him bedtime stories about them and their deeds. Tales that had never been written down in their entirety, that had only lived between mouths and ears. Kakashi had scanned the folder thoroughly and only found remnants and pieces of them. Highlights and triumphs, but not full stories.

Like the information about his grandmother – his father’s mother, Hatake Kama, the Hatake heir of her generation – and her excellent use of chakra as a well-respected fighter. Reading about her, Kakashi dimly remembered the little shrine in the garden and one summer evening when his father had told some of the dead about him. Kakashi wasn’t a sentimental creature, but as he’d read about his grandmother he couldn’t deny his own regret at never having met her.

There had also been some traditions outlined in the folder, though the information on them had been kept vague as if it had been written by an outsider who had never participated. But the mention of a ceremonial wedding quilt had brought back the memory of a long-forgotten well-loved big rectangle of colorful fabric that Kakashi’s father had worshipped. The mention of a harvest celebration had reminded him of when he’d stood out on the porch one autumn evening, following his father’s lead through a small ceremony with no one in attendance but them.

‘What’s this for?’ little Kakashi had asked.

His father had smiled. ‘It’s tradition,’ he had said. And little Kakashi had thought about how tradition must have been very important. A sentiment he had then forgotten just a few years later.

If Kakashi had ever had questions about his clan, the folder unfortunately did not answer all of them. It left a lot of things open. But it did describe the reason behind the extinction of the Hatake name very well. Well, the impending extinction, anyway. The Hatake had always been warriors. The values of a true warrior – loyalty, honor, duty – had been central to their clan for as long as it had existed, even generations ago, when a lot of them had still been farmers. Because of this, Kakashi’s ancestors had, much like he and his father, eventually become soldiers. And soldiers were tools that often died.

When Kakashi had been very young, he had once wondered why he had been regarded as a ‘clan child’. Other clans, like the Uchiha and the Hyūga and the Nara, had been big families that lived in sprawling compounds. Clan children had aunts and uncles and cousins. They took part in big family celebrations and rites of passage.

But Kakashi’s ‘clan’ had been him and his father. And then just him. And at that point, the word had lost all its meaning.

Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about the people and the history written down in this folder. The way it hinted at a rather magnificent story of farmers turned warriors. It made him think of things that could have been, which he was often too pragmatic to do. It made him wonder whether perhaps he could have had a younger sibling if fate had been a little kinder. It made him briefly picture a childhood that hadn’t been so isolating and lonesome.

It made him wonder if there was something worth preserving, after all.

As he caught that thought, he immediately snapped out of his reverie. He shook his head. That was a very dangerous thought which he was absolutely not going to consider. Not even for a minute.

None of this mattered, anyway. He’d just been looking for a plan.

In terms of family secrets or humiliating details, the folder was a bit light. It wasn’t surprising, it had been put together by an outsider and it was meant to entice him to think that its contents had a right to an heir.

However, there were a few decidedly uncomfortable assumptions about the bloodline and its traits scattered throughout the folder. They were incorrect – unless Kakashi was a genetic outlier, which he supposed he couldn’t know for sure – but they were creative. And certainly very embarrassing. They must have earned their place in the Hatake folder by virtue of Homura’s and Koharu’s ignorance to Kakashi’s heritage. Better to include the rumored and false family traits just in case they were something Kakashi was particularly proud of.

Kakashi had had to read the paragraphs that detailed his supposed biology twice because he’d been in utter disbelief about all the ‘anatomical details’ that the village elders thought he had. Alcohol had never been Kakashi’s vice, but the musings on how he was comparable to a wolf had him develop some Tsunade-like cravings for drinking.

At least this meant that Kakashi had his pick of which bullshit idea about his genetics to ‘confirm’. Something outrageous enough to draw attention, but not so outrageous that it was going to cause problems.

That was also why he’d kept himself from spreading anything so far. As Hokage, he was in a precarious situation and his reputation was very important. He wanted to rescue Iruka from his predicament, but he also had to stay on top of how the people of the village perceived him. Any rumors about him could weaken his status and lead to problems. Now or further down the line.

He’d decided to give himself another day to observe and see whether perhaps interest in Iruka wasn’t as widespread as it had first appeared. But the second round of scouting he’d sent one of his clones to do the night before had confirmed that the rumors weren’t showing any sign of stopping.

Unfortunately, Kakashi had been busy meeting with people all day but now, in the late afternoon, he finally had the time to tend to this most important of matters. So with another conflicted look at the folder he summoned a shadow clone.

He looked at his replica. He’d conceived the idea before creating it, so the knowledge was already in its head.

It was to disguise itself as Sukea, find Genma and develop a natural conversation with him. Then, it was to casually mention that it had acquired the Hokage’s medical records. And then get a read on Genma and see which of the theories could get the best reaction. It was then going to confirm as many as it took for Genma to bite.

Kakashi sincerely hoped it was going only going to take one.

“I’ll be off then,” the clone said.

Kakashi nodded. “Dispell yourself when you’re done.”

“Aye-aye.” The clone opened the window.

A part of Kakashi watched with dread as the window slid open. He wanted to reach out and stop what was about to happen. He had thoroughly learned not to care about his reputation over the course of his life. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed being disliked by the village. Or being treated like an outcast. That was going to change if people thought that any of these outrageous claims were true.

But for Iruka’s safety, it was worth it.

At least he could look forward to future-Iruka maybe having to teach kids about the scandals of the Rokudaime.

Resigned, Kakashi watched as the clone got ready to set out and-

The door burst open.

“My Esteemed Rival!”

Kakashi and the clone both stared at the newcomer.

“Oh. Was I interrupting something?” Gai asked, eyes darting between Kakashi and the clone. There was a keen look to him, as if he wasn’t surprised to be interrupting something in the slightest.

“Not really,” Kakashi replied. He made a quick mental calculation and looked at his clone. “Let’s do this later. You’re dismissed.”

“Really-?” The clone vanished.

“Hello, Gai,” Kakashi greeted before he closed the window and sat behind his desk. “What brings you here?”

Gai beamed. “Can’t a man drop in on his Eternal Rival to see how he is doing in the Tempest of his paperwork?”

“He can, I guess.” Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “But he never has before.”

“He hasn’t?” Gai demanded and harrumpfed. “In that case it is even more prudent that he does!” Gai drew a bit closer. “Unless you don’t have the time. I understand that you are fulfilling your most Sacred Duty.”

Protecting Iruka was indeed Kakashi’s most sacred duty. Not that Gai knew about that. “I can make some time for an old friend.”

Gai sniffled, clearly moved as he usually was whenever Kakashi was sincere with him. “Then tell me, my Dearest Friend, how have you been?”

Kakashi hummed. “Busy, mostly.”

“Ah, but that is a state of Doing, not a state of Being!” Gai suggested.

“Tired, then. Because I’m busy.”

Gai didn’t seem to accept that answer any more. “But are you Happy, dear Rival?”

“Maa, that’s a big question, Gai.”

“But an important one! I know that your relationship with Lady Happiness has not always been an easy one. But you deserve her gracious presence in your life nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m the Hokage, it’s my job to make sure that the village is happy,” Kakashi said.

“Yes, indeed. A leader must provide for those he leads. And you are doing admirably at that, no doubt!” Gai looked at him intently. “But it won’t do for a leader to prioritize everything else above his own happiness!”

“Prioritizing the people is part of my job. Who ever heard of a Hokage who prioritizes themselves?”

Gai hummed, clearly not satisfied with the response. “I worried that this responsibility might be playing into your worse tendencies.”

“Huh?”

“Kakashi. A Hokage must prioritize the village, yes. But they must not forget themselves. There must be Joys and Pleasures in a Hokage’s life, too. Do you have such things?”

Kakashi couldn’t help but think about Iruka. “I do.”

Gai grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s OK then!”

Kakashi considered Gai, his oldest friend. “Though I have been neglecting other aspects of my life. We haven’t seen much of each other lately.”

“Not to worry, Rival! I am cooking up a Youthful challenge for us! One that I will be sure to win!”

Kakashi smiled. “Very well.” He paused. “Is that why you came here? To challenge me?”

Gai looked sheepish, suddenly. “Ah. No. Truth told, I just had a feeling that I should stop in and check on you.”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “A feeling?”

“Indeed. And I thought it best to follow the feeling lest something bad happens otherwise!” Gai shook his head. “I’ve already let my Precious Pupil make a grave mistake this week. I couldn’t risk my Beloved Rival committing one as well.”

At the mention of Lee’s mistake, Kakashi felt his stomach tighten but he didn’t let it show. “Lee made a mistake?”

“Hard to believe? Yes, I know.” Gai put a hand to his chest as he frowned. “My most Precious Pupil may seem Perfect, but he is not without flaws!”

“What happened?”

Gai hummed. “Surely you have heard the rumors concerning dear Iruka-sensei?”

“Right, there was something about him going around.” Kakashi kept his voice neutral and mildly disinterested. Gai was a lot more observant than most people thought, Kakashi couldn’t risk slipping up.

“Right, well. It was my Precious Student and I who found him on a most Secret Rendezvous! And though we swore our secrecy to him, Lee shared the information in confidence. And thus, the cat was out of the bag, as they say.”

“I see.”

“I fear poor Iruka-sensei may be having some difficulties because of that. He does not seem like the kind of man who appreciates the investment of busybodies the matters of his heart.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Kakashi agreed.

“Have you perhaps spoken to him about it?”

“Huh? Me? Why?” Kakashi asked, a knot forming in his stomach.

“I was under the assumption that you were friends? Brought together by the shared experience of teaching our Most Spirited Hero?”

“I suppose? We haven’t spoken in some time, so I’d hardly consider us friends,” Kakashi explained.

Gai frowned at that. “I see. Well, that is Most Unfortunate.”

“I’m surprised you’re so invested in this. I don’t recall you being close friends with him. Or ever caring about gossip.”

“Ah well. It is my student who caused dear Iruka-sensei all this hardship. I feel responsible.”

“If we’re responsible for every social blunder our students commit, I have even more apologizing to do than I thought,” Kakashi mused.

Gai laughed. “Well, this is a very specific circumstance. And Lee has been spirited and determined to make amends – an Exemplary Show of Regret if I may say so myself! Yet, of course, no amends can be made with the mysterious woman that Iruka-sensei has been seeing.”

‘Woman’. Kakashi wondered whether it was a deliberate usage of the word. He didn’t know how much Gai ever thought about non-conventional relationships. If he ever had. The word grated, but Kakashi supposed that it was for the best if that’s what people still thought. “She’s probably glad, if she didn’t want her relationship status to be public,” Kakashi pondered. “So Lee didn’t just omit her on purpose?”

“No! We did not see her!” Gai confirmed. “And yet, mysteriously, someone seems to have an idea about who it might be.”

Kakashi resolutely did not look away and did not try to swallow the ball of anxiety that sat in his throat. “Huh. Guess Iruka-sensei’s not that good at keeping things secret, after all.”

“One wonders about that,” Gai mused. “It appears that no one suspected Iruka-sensei to be involved romantically at all. But now it is known that he is having Secret Trysts with a woman from another nation!”

Kakashi blinked. “And how do you know that?”

“I overheard as much just this morning.”

“Uh-huh.” This was new information. To Kakashi’s knowledge, people had been guessing about Iruka’s secret partner, not thinking they knew who it was. He had no idea where this idea of a foreigner came from. Neither did Gai, apparently. There was no use in digging further with him. Kakashi sighed loudly. “Why are we even talking about this, Gai? You know I don’t care about gossip.”

“Ah, well, I just thought you might be interested in the trials one of your friends is facing.”

“I honestly hoped to hear more about you since you’re the one who decided to drop by,” Kakashi explained.

“Me? Why, Rival, your interest in me warms my heart.” Gai gripped his chest for emphasis. “I have been doing Splendidly! I have increased my maximum of one-legged jumps by another 100 jumps!”

Kakashi wondered how his physical therapist felt about Gai’s insistence on challenging the intact parts of his body like that. Not that he was about to mention it. Every bit of comfort that Gai felt in his body was priceless. “Yeah? Well done.”

“And I have been extending the Hand of Youthful Friendship to some new faces!”

“Oh? And who is that?” Kakashi asked as he began to idly sort through some paperwork on his desk.

“Ah, just a group of people who have experienced similar hardships as myself. I thought I should go and provide them with Passionate Inspiration!”

Kakashi suppressed a smile. Gai wasn’t using the term ‘support group’ but Kakashi had a feeling that that’s what he was referring to. “How did that go?”

Gai made a contemplative face. “I am not sure I will meet them again. They were not very moved by my Youthful Enthusiasm.”

Kakashi supposed that made sense. If it was a group of survivors trying to work through their problems, Gai’s boisterous attitude could feel out of place. To some, Gai was an acquired taste. Perhaps Kakashi ought to do something for those people. He was going to have to add it to his long list of to-dos. “Can’t win them all,” Kakashi said with a shrug although he felt bad for Gai being unable to connect. “You know, if you ever want something to do, there’s plenty of positions around the Tower. The Academy also always appreciates support.”

Gai put a hand to his chin. “Maybe I shall look into that! Ah, I can already lend you my aid. I have some ideas for the training grounds that I think you will appreciate.”

Gai went on to explain his ideas and Kakashi listened while idly doing some paperwork on the side. Gai stayed for a while after that, talking about this and that. He praised he progress of some of the younger shinobi, reminisced about Kakashi’s and his past challenges and talked about recent events and happenings.

There was no further discussion of Iruka or any further prying into Kakashi’s emotional state. Eventually, Gai left, leaving the office very quiet very suddenly and leaving Kakashi to stew in his thoughts.

Iruka was seeing a foreign woman in secret. According to the public, at least.

That was... a development. If it was one that people were satisfied with, a good one. Kakashi supposed that it made sense that the rumors were going to evolve into further speculation eventually. Perhaps it was best to keep observing for now. Which meant he maybe didn’t have to drop a bomb on his own reputation in order to protect Iruka. He could wait just a little longer and see the way things went.

For not the first time, Kakashi was insanely grateful that Gai had not only appeared in Kakashi’s life but made himself a permanent fixture in it. In spite of Kakashi’s misguided efforts to get rid of him numerous times.

It also occurred Kakashi again just how much he had been neglecting that friendship. And any others that he’d once had. Gai had asked about his happiness and Kakashi had thought of Iruka. Iruka had become so responsible for Kakashi’s joy, something he had once, years ago, vowed he couldn’t let Iruka be. He hadn’t even realized it because he hadn’t been purposefully isolating himself or going on lethal missions. But since Iruka had become the only person he ever truly socialized with outside of work, Iruka was bearing the burden of supporting all of him.

The problem was that Kakashi didn’t know how to solve this issue. His limited free time didn’t accommodate a secret relationship with Iruka and thriving friendships with someone else.

The Hatake clan folder was staring at Kakashi. Its ideas of family and honor and loyalty somehow taunting.

He put it into its drawer and got back to work.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka’s apartment felt cold and empty.

He wished he hadn’t asked Kakashi to stay. He wished Kakashi had stayed.

Iruka was clinging to his pillow. He didn’t understand how things had become so awful so quickly. All he had wanted was for Kakashi to consider spending the night. So that Iruka could have just a little more of him. So that they could cuddle and talk. And wake up alongside one another.

He had feared that Kakashi was going to refuse. But he hadn’t anticipated him being unwilling to even entertain the thought. He hadn’t been prepared for a rejection that unwavering and harsh.

And he’d thought that Kakashi was at least going to give him an explanation that he could understand. He wanted to know what was so damn unappealing about spending the night beside him. A shinobi’s restless sleep, a fear of being discovered – those things had been hollow excuses and nothing more.

He just wanted to know.

Then again, Kakashi had drawn a boundary. And was it really Iruka’s place to question it?

Iruka buried his face in the pillow as regret ate at his heart.

The rejection had been gutting, even if he’d known on some level that it had been coming. He’d known that what Kakashi and him had was a casual thing. An addition to their friendship, something that could perhaps even be considered to be meaningless. Two adults having some fun. No exclusivity, no feelings.

No feelings.

Iruka tensed. He had agreed to that implicitly, hadn’t he? No feelings. Nothing beyond friendship and something physical. But when had that ever been true for him? He had always yearned for something a little more. For Kakashi to stay the night, for them to go on dates, for Kakashi to not be intimate with others anymore. Kakashi had never indicated that such a thing was on the table and Iruka had quietly been hoping for it nonetheless.

In the end, his stupid crush had never been just about attraction.

And now, knowing for sure that none of that was never going to happen forced him to look at the harsh reality. One in which he was left hurt and heartbroken. And without any plans about how to keep going. He didn’t want to lose Kakashi, but he didn’t know if he still wanted to see him like this. He’d failed to keep it causal. How could he ever succeed in the future?

He’d had a taste of more than friendship so going back to just that felt equally impossible. If only he’d just kept his mouth shut and accepted what he was being given without getting greedy.

But he hadn’t. And all he could do now was try to get through whatever came next.

-

The tension between Iruka and Kakashi had taken on many forms in the past.

Worry about their shared student, aggression at the nomination for the chūnin exams, then slowly building attraction waiting for release and lastly, a comfortable constant tension of ever-present possibility. Not all of those phases had been pleasant. But never had it been excruciatingly uncomfortable.

Until now.

The next time Kakashi saw Iruka, the unspoken thing between them had turned ugly and oppressive. It was a coincidental meeting, of all things. Just a few days after their disastrous night, they ran into each other on the street. Both of them stopped in their tracks and stared at each other from afar. Kakashi watched Iruka shift his weight around as if the shared discomfort made him squirm. He’d never seen him act so unsure of himself. Eventually, Iruka settled on an acknowledging nod.

Kakashi’s heart constricted. He returned the nod.

It made sense that things were like that. Their argument was still fresh and they were both clearly still raw from it. It’s not like they had made up. Kakashi wasn’t very familiar with this type of thing, but he figured that it was going to take time for things to get back to the kind of normal they had both claimed to want.

They were soon given said time as Kakashi was sent out on a mission again. Tsunade assigned him a small team to lead and Kakashi did his best to focus on them instead of the impressions of that terrible night which constantly gnawed at his mind.

Two weeks later, he returned with his whole team mostly unharmed and a successful mission report to deliver to Tsunade. She gave him a word of praise for how well things had gone, but he couldn’t take any pride in the fact. Her smile and acknowledgment of his performance made him feel nothing.

He was released from the tower back into the public. His team had already gone their separate ways. One of them had braved some kind of very visible fear and offered for him to join them to celebrate a job done well at an izakaya. Kakashi had declined.

His thoughts were set on Iruka. His instincts told him to hide from him. But he still remembered Iruka’s lecture about avoiding him many months in the past and he knew that Iruka was never going to speak to him again if Kakashi didn’t push through his own reluctance to try to see him.

So he sought Iruka out. He was on shift at the Mission Desk. Kakashi entered the Assignment Room and their eyes met immediately. Iruka froze. And Kakashi knew it with as much certainty as he’d ever known anything in his life: Time hadn’t done a damn thing to fix things between them.

Still, Kakashi wasn’t going to run. He nodded at Iruka as a silent greeting before slipping back out. Then, he lingered outside the building, by the entrance, pulling out his book to keep prying eyes away. He didn’t read a single word on the page but the book’s presence alone made him feel more at ease.

Eventually, Iruka’s shift must have ended because he emerged from the tower. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Kakashi. His expression was conflicted and Kakashi already missed the easy smiles and warm greetings. Instead, what he got was wariness. “Were you waiting for me?” Iruka asked and Kakashi couldn’t tell whether he would have appreciated or hated it.

“I was,” Kakashi replied honestly. “I returned from my mission today.”

“Welcome back,” Iruka replied as if he was still on the clock.

“Thank you.” Kakashi hesitated before finding his resolve to keep going. “I haven’t had dinner. Are you hungry?”

Iruka looked at him for a long moment, not in the heated, eager way that he had several times before. Not even in the friendly, pleased way that Kakashi was also familiar with. But in thought, distant. Perhaps even calculating. “Yeah, okay. We can get food.”

“Ichiraku’s?”

“Sure.”

Kakashi nodded and they started making their way into the direction of the ramen shop. They walked next to each other in silence. It became unbearable after two minutes. So, since Iruka didn’t seem to know what to say, Kakashi tried to ask him about his day the way he often had before. But the responses he received were lackluster and disinterested. So he didn’t ask for anything else.

Things didn’t improve when they arrived at Ichiraku’s. Iruka and Kakashi barely spoke to each other during dinner. Kakashi made a few more attempts to start a conversation, even if he was bad at it, and Iruka tried a few times, too, but none of it went anywhere. They didn’t even really look at each other. Every interaction between them was stilted and wrong. Like they were playing a game of pretend that neither of them were ready to acknowledge as such. It made Kakashi’s heart ache with longing for something that felt like it was now forever in the past.

They finished their meal, paid and started heading in the same direction as they always did. Once again, the walk was quiet and uncomfortable with none of the anticipation that had once been there during this part of a shared evening. When they reached the intersection that split their ways Iruka paused. He stared at the ground for a long moment and Kakashi was almost afraid of what he was going to say. Iruka then looked up at him. “Do you want to come back to mine?”

Kakashi’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected an invitation given, well, everything. And Iruka looked guarded and uncertain himself. It didn’t exactly seem like he wanted to spend more time together. But if this was Iruka trying to mend things between them, Kakashi was going to take the opportunity. No matter how much he still wanted to run away from all of it. “Yes,” he replied, not untruthfully. He did have an interest in spending more time with Iruka. It had to be the way to fixing things between them.

Most of the time, they would have split up at this point, meeting at Iruka’s apartment separately to make sure no one suspected anything. But it wasn’t always necessary since there was nothing untoward about one friend visiting the other.

And this night in particular, Kakashi didn’t want to leave Iruka’s side if he could help it. Iruka felt so distant and far away and Kakashi worried that if he made one wrong move, whatever tether was left between them was going to come loose completely and Iruka was going to drift away from him for good.

They arrived at the front door and Iruka let both of them inside. Instead of warm and inviting, the apartment felt daunting in a way it never had before. They both took off their shoes and entered the hallway. Iruka took the lead without saying anything, bypassing the living room to head directly to the bedroom. Making it clear what his intentions were. Kakashi wished that the act would have felt enticing. He followed in silence.

It wasn’t the first time things had gone that way – them skipping everything else to get onto Iruka’s mattress as quickly as possible. But it was perhaps the first time that they’d made this trip without any touching or any words shared between them. The last time they had gone straight to the bedroom, they had been in a hurry, grabbing at each other with desperation and need. There had been panting and teasing, clothes being abandoned on the way and both of them being glued to each other with each point of contact burning brightly.

But tonight was different. Tonight, they made their way over to the bedroom quietly and without any sense of urgency. The loudest sounds in the apartment were their steps on the floor and maybe the heartbeat thundering in Kakashi’s ears. They came to stand in front of each other a few paces away from the bed. It all felt so alien and strange and cold that Kakashi was frozen in place. He wasn’t even sure what was allowed anymore, so he hesitated and Iruka seemed to be trying to figure out what to do himself.

Kakashi wondered whether Iruka already regretted inviting him over.

“You can kiss me, you know,” Iruka mumbled and demonstratively closed his eyes.

“Alright,” Kakashi replied and pulled down his mask. Perhaps that was a good first step. Kissing was always a good start.

But the kiss felt wrong.

It was still Iruka, so it was still a pleasant kiss, but it just wasn’t right. It should have been right, the way they moved against each other and fit together should have been the same. But it wasn’t. Still, they kept going because they had to somehow make this work and Kakashi desperately hoped that they were going to find what they were missing somewhere along the way. To make things feel the way they had before.

So they kissed and touched and began to undress each other. But while all the actions should have been the same, they felt mechanical. There was no flirty banter to lighten the mood. The looks they shared lacked any heat and though they both tried to smile at each other every now and again, each of those expressions was forced and tinged with something sour and unpleasant.

And yet, miraculously, they ended up in bed together, half-undressed, hands touching skin as if perhaps finding the right spot somewhere was going to ignite things and make it all feel good again.

If such a spot existed, Kakashi didn’t find it. And neither did Iruka.

“Is this what you want?” Kakashi ended up asking. Not to tease, not to make Iruka admit to something that was going to make his gut feel hot and tight, but because he could honestly not be sure.

Iruka looked at Kakashi’s mask-clad face. He nodded. A clinical confirmation, not an expression of unyielding desire. “Yes. Is it what you want?” Iruka asked with that same genuine concern.

“It is.”

And so they kept going. Kakashi was hovering over Iruka and he had never before been this keenly aware of where each of his body parts was. He felt the way his arms and legs carried his weight, he felt where his body brushed against Iruka’s and he felt like he was doing everything wrong. Was he kissing Iruka right? Had he always kissed Iruka like this? He couldn’t tell. They hadn’t even gotten each other’s pants off and already he wasn’t sure about anything.

“Let’s switch,” Iruka suggested at some point because he must have been feeling the wrongness of it, too. And just like Kakashi, he was seeking some kind of remedy.

So Kakashi laid down on the bed and Iruka crawled on top of him. It didn’t change anything. Even as Iruka looked down at him with what must have been an earnest attempt at a lustful gaze, even as he trailed his hand down Kakashi’s chest in a way that Kakashi was sure he usually enjoyed, all Kakashi felt was discomfort. Obligation – both his and Iruka’s. As if the only reason they were doing any of it was because they had said they were going to.

There was no magnetism, no pull. Perhaps the tether was already too loose.

“I changed my mind,” Kakashi announced for both of their sakes just before Iruka’s hand reached the hem of his pants. He had a feeling that if it went any further, all they were going to achieve was creating another regret. “I don’t think I want to tonight.”

“Oh,” Iruka replied and withdrew his hand. His expression was unreadable. “Of course,” he added and immediately put space between them, first sitting up, then climbing off of Kakashi and finally going to stand beside the bed.

“Sorry,” Kakashi said as he sat up because even though neither of them had been excited, he still felt like he was disappointing Iruka. He got up to find his clothes.

“Don’t be,” Iruka said kindly. But even his kindness wasn’t as warm as it had once been. “Never for something like that.”

Kakashi nodded and put his shirt back on. “I’ll be going then.”

Iruka started getting redressed as well. He didn’t look at Kakashi as he replied. “Okay. Take care.”

There was no request for him to reconsider or to stay for something that wasn’t sex. No hopeful tone of voice and no grumbling about his imminent departure. So he opened the window and slipped out. As soon as he did, he wanted nothing more than to return and to recover everything that they had apparently lost. Maybe in the future. Maybe Iruka was still upset with him. Understandably so. Maybe they just needed some more time.

But as it turned out, time did fuck all about it.

Each and every one of their following encounters – whether it was more coincidental meetings in the street or attempts to get intimate – went much the same way. And Kakashi was forced to realize that even though he’d gone back to Iruka, even though he’d refused to run away and hide, their friendship had fallen apart. Iruka and him didn’t talk to each other or take walks together anymore. They stopped going to dinners together because they just gave them more room for oppressive silence. And with that, everything else withered away, too.

By all accounts, this shouldn’t have happened. They had agreed to keep things the same as they had been. But apparently, that was impossible.

Kakashi gladly would have given up on the sex or not even sought it out in the first place if it had meant preserving the friendship. But he had seen the opportunity for intimacy and had seized it. Now his punishment was this.

He could understand what had happened, intellectually if nothing else, but it left him feeling out of sorts and unsure. Iruka wasn’t telling him to stay away but he didn’t ask to spend time together, either. So Kakashi didn’t know what was expected of him. Or what he was allowed to do. Whether Iruka wanted to him to continue to reach out or whether all he wanted was for Kakashi to go away.

So he visited Iruka at home one evening and decided to ask.

“Can this still work?” he forced out in a small voice as he stood in Iruka’s quiet, cold living room.

Iruka looked back at him, his expression defeated and crestfallen. He then averted his eyes. It took a long time for him to find whatever words he needed to reply. When he finally did, it was quiet and subdued. “I don’t know.”

The words ripped Kakashi’s heart out of his chest. They rung in his mind like a death knell. But he didn’t show it. He couldn’t, not with Iruka already so unhappy and uncertain. What kind of a person would Kakashi have been to heap on his own distress, to maybe make Iruka feel guilty, too?

So Kakashi nodded and simply said, “Okay.” And then, because he couldn’t do anything else, he took his leave. Knowing that it was probably the last time he was going to see the inside of Iruka’s apartment. Maybe it had also been the last time he got to speak to Iruka about anything other than work.

It was a miserable thought. One that made his chest feel like an infinite, hollow cavern.

But Kakashi was going to adept.

It was what he had done before when bad things had happened. He accepted them and he adapted. He lost people and kept going on without them. He got a new terrible reputation tacked onto him and he ignored it. He lost more people and kept living without those, too. At least this time, he had the chance to lose someone without that person dying.

Perhaps losing Iruka meant that Iruka was finally safe. Maybe Kakashi’s callous rejection of the offer to stay the night had been the best thing he had ever done for him. He couldn’t tell whether that made him feel better or not. But it was all he had. That, and the memories. They were going to have to be enough.

And so he pushed himself to leave the apartment behind and to go to his own empty and miserable space.

Of course, things could never just be that easy. Kakashi was still very much drawn to Iruka. It was harder than he had hoped to escape his orbit. No matter how many times he berated himself, he couldn’t just flee the way he once had.

So even as they had all but ended their friendship, Kakashi stuck around sometimes. Out of Iruka’s sight, for the most part. Because whenever they were aware of each other, things became terrible and uncomfortable. Under the glare of the summer sun, Kakashi still sought out Iruka. Not often. And never when he was in his home or another private space – Kakashi was never going to violate Iruka’s boundaries like that. But when he was at the market, Kakashi sometimes lingered a few stalls away. When he was in the Academy, Kakashi sometimes lounged on the roof. And when he trained, Kakashi sometimes sat in the shade of a nearby tree.

Kakashi wasn’t sure why he did it and he knew that he shouldn’t have.

He never stuck around for long and he never tried to pry too much. All he gathered were quick looks to see that Iruka was alright. It helped, somehow, even if everything between them was in shards, to know that he was still around somewhere. Living his life. Even if that life no longer had Kakashi in it. There was comfort in the thought that no matter how terrible things got, Iruka was out there somewhere.

It was one of those nights of seeking that comfort that Kakashi entered a bar in disguise. It hadn’t been a planned thing. But he’d just returned from a mission and spotted Iruka entering by pure coincidence. The mission had been somewhat grueling and Kakashi just wanted to steal some solace by making sure Iruka was okay. So he’d slipped into an alleyway, put up a henge of someone unremarkable-looking and followed inside.

As Iruka was like a beacon to Kakashi, he found him quickly. But when he did, he faltered. Iruka wasn’t by himself and he wasn’t there with his friends as Kakashi had expected him to be.

He was with one other person, a man that Kakashi didn’t know.

Immediate unease crept up Kakashi’s spine and he couldn’t help but observe.

Iruka and the other man were talking in what looked to be a friendly manner. There was some politeness there, as if they hadn’t known each other for very long or at least weren’t very close. Yet. And then Iruka started to smile and Kakashi’s insides screamed because he knew that smile and that smile meant so many things but it wasn’t being directed at him, it was being directed at this other man. It was then that Kakashi picked up on all the other little details. Iruka carried himself just so. He angled his head just the right way. All those little tells and hints, Kakashi had seen them a million times back when they had been aimed at him.

Iruka was flirting with this man.

Iruka was on a date.

Kakashi’s heart plummeted into his stomach. He couldn’t breathe. And he couldn’t bring himself to look away as his throat constricted and everything inside him knotted together and tore itself apart all at once.

Only when the unknown man gently put his hand on top of Iruka’s forearm was Kakashi able to tear his eye away from the scene.

He fled the bar, uncaring of whom he had to push aside to get out.

His heart was hammering in his chest as he made his escape.

Everything ached.

Everything hurt so incredibly much.

He had no right to be upset, he knew that. He had pushed Iruka away. He had prevented them from becoming anything more than friends with a physical relationship. He had refused to ever become something stable or committed or exclusive. He had denied Iruka his emotions.

Now Iruka was looking for someone else to provide what Kakashi hadn’t.

It was his right, of course. Not only that, it was probably what he should have done instead of ever seeking out Kakashi for anything.

Kakashi stopped running. He’d managed to get on a rooftop. His heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of the streets down below.

He couldn’t deal with this.

The realization was as sudden as it was strong. He couldn’t stand to see Iruka flirting with someone else, smiling at someone else like that. Given Iruka’s preferences, whatever he found in or developed with that man could never become a public thing. But Kakashi was always going to know. He was going to see Iruka around town and perhaps also that other man and he was going to always be reminded and know what was going on beneath the surface.

He’d survived so much in his life but that moment, he thought that seeing the two of them – Iruka and that other man – talking to each other in public was going to be the end of him.

He was going to lose his mind over this, he was sure. He’d already lost his heart.

He needed space.

A lot of it.

He turned and headed for the Tower. Once inside, he immediately made his way over to the Mission Assignment Room. The chūnin on shift there looked almost afraid of him when he demanded an A-rank. Preferably solo. Preferably long. Definitely right away.

His request was accepted and he was given a scroll.

He had to head out by midday of the next day. He was out of the village within an hour.

It was only the first mission of many.

When he returned he demanded another. He crammed his schedule as full as it could be. Godaime sent him out regularly anyway. He took whatever he could get his hands on to fill the rest of the time.

He took long missions, hard missions, awful missions that no one wanted. Within weeks, he was more respected among other shinobi than he had ever been before. For taking on the tasks they all avoided. He didn’t care because he didn’t do it for them. He did it because it was all he could do to stay sane. The missions were punishing and demanding in ways that most people hated. They sent him to areas where no one wanted to go. With objectives that made most people’s stomachs turn.

Whenever he was forced to stay in the village for hours or days, he avoided the public. He’d avoided Iruka successfully once before, he could do it again. And this time, if Iruka found him lying face-down in the dirt somewhere, well, he was probably just going to leave him.

“You’re taking on too much,” Gai said to him once when Kakashi had opened the door for him because he couldn’t stand to listen to him yelling in front of his apartment anymore. “Did something happen, Rival?”

“I’m fine. I just want to do my part.”

Gai hummed in that way he did when he didn’t quite believe Kakashi but knew better than to push. Kakashi was grateful that they left it at that.

Kakashi only ran into Iruka once during that time.

Iruka didn’t glare and glower like Kakashi had expected him to. And he, of course, wasn’t on the arm of someone else like he was in some of Kakashi’s more hateful daydreams. He looked sad. He frowned at Kakashi, those big brown eyes almost welling up with tears and Kakashi wanted to do something or say something to wipe that terrible expression away. But he didn’t. He didn’t know how.

The rift between them felt like it had appeared out of nowhere. It was insurmountable.

Kakashi left without saying anything.

He didn’t know what they had become. But they certainly weren’t friends, anymore.

Chapter Text

Present day

Iruka landed on a nearby roof, out of sight from Sadao and the woman who had accosted him. His mind was reeling.

What the hell had just happened?

When Sadao had led him away from the people around them, Iruka had prepared himself to be insulted or even attacked but none of that had happened. Instead, he’d been asked for advice. On a situation he knew nothing about. It had been better than the alternative, he supposed, even if it had left him utterly bewildered.

Well, it had only been a matter of time before people began to fill in the blanks and formulated theories about who it was that Iruka was seeing in secret.

But something about the situation unsettled him beyond being approached so insistently about a topic he didn’t want to discuss with anybody. Two opposing theories had emerged at about the same time, and had been referred to with pretty strong conviction. With no sign of the truth that Iruka had so foolishly spilled to Ino.

Maybe she hadn’t shared the information, after all.

Iruka considered that.

Could she maybe have shared something else?

He crouched down on the roof and put a hand to his chin in thought. Iruka’s terrible mistake had occurred two days ago. It was entirely possible that Ino had spent the previous day spreading misinformation. In fact, the timing of their conversation and the emergence of these new stories almost suggested her involvement. Perhaps she had felt guilty and had decided to make it up to him. If so, it was a touching thought, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about her involving herself in the situation even more.

He hesitated for a moment before he looked into the general direction of the Yamanaka flower shop. If Ino wasn’t going to spread the truth, that was good. No question about it. But Iruka didn’t know what to think of the way things had changed. It could go several ways. Plus, there was every chance that the truth still got out eventually, ousting Ino as a liar. The members of the Yamanaka clan already had to deal with people being uncomfortable around them due to their invasive abilities. And as much hurt as Ino had caused him, he didn’t want her to risk her own standing in the village for his sake.

Iruka sighed. Well, it was already done. Talking to her wasn’t going to change anything at this point. At least the fake girlfriends that had been made up for him hadn’t been anything terribly strange. A civilian and someone from Suna – Had Ino simply taken inspiration from Shikamaru for the latter? – were tame options that weren’t going to cause Iruka much grief for the most part. Perhaps there could be some dissent among some of the older shinobi who still harbored some resentment towards the Land of Wind, but he doubted that they cared much about his love life, specifically.

Not to mention, the thought of seeking out Ino to try and reprimand her made Iruka want to curl into himself and shrink away into nothing. He didn’t know how she was going to look at him now but whatever way it was, he was not ready for it.

He felt restless about the turn things had taken but there was nothing much for him to do at this point except to go home. After he’d secured himself some kind of dinner, of course. Grocery shopping gave him far too much of time to be approached again so he opted to change his plans and get takeout if only to be home faster.

The trip to the takeout place and the consequential way to his apartment occurred without further incidents although Iruka definitely noticed that he was still being watched and whispered about.

Once back home, he quickly ate dinner and went to bed, feeling far more tired than he had any right to. Just as he was about to fall asleep, a thought bubbled back up in his mind:

Naruto was still going to ask him what was going on when he returned.

It took a bit longer to find sleep after that.

The next day saw Iruka slightly more rested than the previous one although sleep had still been a difficult affair.

As he made his way to the Academy, the unease that had stuck to him the past few days still lingered, clinging to his back and making him glance around more than he usually did. In spite of the events of the day before, he still expected to see someone sneering at him whenever he surveyed his surroundings. He could still be confronted by someone with hateful eyes and vicious words. Maybe he’d jumped to conclusions, thinking that Ino had wanted to help him. Or maybe things had gotten out some other way. He couldn’t be sure, after all. He wondered if he could ever be sure again. If he was ever going to be as at ease in this village as he had been before this whole debacle had taken place.

For now, people definitely didn’t let him be. They were too interested in him and his affairs for that.

When he entered the teacher’s lounge that morning, a relatively new staff member approached him. She was clutching two textbooks to her chest, her eyebrows were drawn together and her bottom lip jutted out in concern. It took a moment before she finally said, “Iruka-sensei, I just wanted to ask... is it really wise to have a relationship with someone from an unallied nation?”

Iruka sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling as if he hadn’t slept in months. “I wouldn’t know. Seeing as I’m not in one.”

The response did nothing to smooth over her worried features or to keep her from looking after him as he left to go to his classroom. He didn’t miss the other teachers closely observing the exchange, either.

That day, his kids were particularly unruly. They kept talking to each other during class as soon as his back was turned. Whispering in what sometimes sounded like heated discussions. He decided to listen in only once to hear one girl insist that, “It has to be one of the teachers, they see each other all the time!”

He spun and immediately and loudly demanded silence. Apparently loudly enough that no one dared to say anything else for the rest of the day.

Then later, in the Mission Assignment Room, during a slow period, Iruka’s shift partner, a man he’d only worked with once before and didn’t know much about, was talking to someone else. Iruka didn’t pay the conversation much mind until his shift partner loudly – clearly, intentionally loudly – wondered, “Can someone really be happy dating someone if her family hates him?”

Iruka was above rising to obvious bait. So he ignored it. Save for slamming a desk drawer shut more loudly than he had meant to, perhaps.

And then, after his shift had finished, he was approached outside yet again, by a very hesitant civilian man. “I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s great that you’re with someone like that. Shut-ins deserve to find love, too. I hope you won’t let anyone get in the way of that.”

Iruka thought that it was an admirable display of self-control when he didn’t yell at the civilian in spite of how his insides were boiling at this point in the day. “I’m not seeing anyone,” he said curtly before lightly pushing past the man.

He had to remind himself that this was still a comparatively good situation as he stomped home, the plastic handles of a grocery bag grasped firmly in his hand. Sure, he was being gawked at nearly all the time, sometimes even without the offender having the good graces to try to be subtle about it. And sure, he seemed to be gaining a new fake girlfriend every other hour at this point.

But he still wasn’t being accused of seeing a man. People still weren’t theorizing about Kakashi and him. Honestly, there was probably a way to look at all of this that would have made it seem very funny. The chūnin Academy teacher attracting all sorts of women from all over the world. Iruka just failed to find the angle to appreciate the hilarity of it all.

It was stressful. And it still put him squarely where he really did not want to be: The center of a lot of people’s attention.

He made it home without screaming at someone or punching something so that was good at least. Another day completed. All Iruka wanted now – except for seeing Kakashi, of course –  was to have dinner and maybe do something fun for a few hours. Reading. Or working on one of his barrier seal projects. Or even putting some time into his long-term unrealistic project of revamping the whole school system. Or simply taking an indulgent hot bath.

A truly pitiful whimper escaped him when he remembered that any of those options were still far away as he hadn’t gotten takeout, meaning a quick dinner was out of the question. He set the crinkling grocery bag down on the counter and glared at it. It was fine. This was something to do, too. Something that kept him from marching over to Ino’s house again to ask why the hell she had to give him dozens of girlfriends when one would have sufficed.

Well, it was time to get dinner started. He walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out a cookbook. It looked weathered. A lot of the pages had creases and tears, the cover was badly damaged and all in all it had seen better days. Which made sense. It had once been caught in a village-wide destruction, after all.

Iruka flipped open the cover page to see the crossed-out ‘Hatake Sakumo’ in the ‘property of’ field and the neatly written ‘Hatake Kakashi’ below it. Iruka flipped through the pages to a recipe he remembered attempting a while before. He sighed again when he saw the list of steps. He really would have rather completed the one step of ‘getting takeout’. But he had made his decision. So he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

The next day, Iruka was so proud to be carrying a bentō box full of leftovers from the food he had prepared by himself that he almost forgot the current situation.

That lasted for all of two minutes as a parent of a former student greeted him on the street and gave him an overly knowing look, immediately souring his mood. He quickly hurried away from that particular interaction only to overhear two people whispering about him and mentioning someone with ‘noble blood’. All he could do was roll his eyes.

At the Academy, no one accosted him when he got to the teacher’s lounge, which he was grateful for. But he noticed that two of his colleagues were interrupting their conversation as he entered and not resuming while he was within earshot. Which bothered him.

But what bothered him even more were the incessant prying eyes as soon as he unpacked his lunch and the needling about who had made it for him and consequential disbelief when he said that he had made it himself.

Kakashi and Iruka had an ongoing bet about whether Iruka was going to have a grey hair before he turned thirty. Kakashi had insisted years ago that the stress from dealing with kids everyday was going to give him grey hairs sooner rather than later. So far, Kakashi was losing the bet. Iruka was going to turn thirty next month. And at this rate, Kakashi was going to win, after all.

Iruka returned to the classroom after lunch and he could already tell that it was going to be a particularly trying afternoon given how long it took for everyone to settle down and focus. This, at least, wasn’t unusual seeing as the kids were only a few hours away from their long-awaited weekend. Iruka was looking forward to it, too.

However, even if he was planning to leave the Academy without checking in with any of the other teachers, he didn’t get to go home without being subjected to one more theory.

He had just finished explaining the basics of chakra-based healing – a relatively new addition to the curriculum that came with the realization that ninja who didn’t perform medical ninjutsu often knew shockingly little about it – and turned to the class to ask whether anyone had any questions. Much to Iruka’s satisfaction, a few hands shot up in the air. More often than not, this meant that the kids had paid attention.

Iruka was surprised to find one of his more reserved and timid students with her hand up and, glad to give one of the quieter ones a chance to participate, he looked to her with a smile.

“Yes, Momoko-chan?”

As soon as her name was called she shrunk into herself, becoming smaller and smaller the more eyes were upon her. Which, now that her classmates were paying attention to her, were quite a few. She began to fidget and didn’t meet Iruka’s eyes. “Um, I- I have a question. But it’s not about healing.”

Though Iruka preferred his students to stay on-topic, he wasn’t about to tell one of the students who had the most difficulty speaking up that now was a bad time. “That’s okay, ask your question.”

“It’s just,” she stammered and her voice became even quieter than it had already been. It was shaky, too, uneven in a way that betrayed her uncertainty about asking anything in the first place. “Are you in danger, Iruka-sensei?”

Iruka blinked as the entire class turned to look at him. Some looked as lost as he felt about the question, others’ gazes were keener and more knowing as if trying to interpret his reaction. “Is this about being a shinobi?” he guessed. Momoko had always been the type to shy away from a lot of the more gruesome details about shinobi life. “There’s always a certain element of danger. If something were to happen, like a threat to the village or to you, I’d have to act. But we’re living in very peaceful times, so it’s not very dangerous right now.”

Momoko didn’t seem reassured. Instead, she fidgeted more, squeezing her fingers. She hunched her shoulders. “Um, that’s not what I meant,” she explained. She looked up and then back down again. “I mean,” she said. “I mean- I mean because you love a kunoichi from ANBU.”

Iruka’s eyes widened. Some of the kids gaped at him.

“And now people know!” Momoko added as if to explain. “Is she going to hurt you because they know?” She finally looked at him and when she did it was with big, innocent, watery eyes. There was no denying that her concern for his well-being was thoroughly genuine. This kid didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body.

Distantly, Iruka decided to better cover the ANBU in class at some point to make sure the kids weren’t afraid of them. He lightly shook his head to get back to the situation at hand. He cleared his throat if only to give himself a moment to figure out how to respond. “A teacher’s private life is not a subject to be discussed in class. And you shouldn’t pry in general.”

She made a startled sound and shrank into herself further. Damn it. Iruka’s big bleeding heart had a huge, vulnerable soft spot for kids who had such good intentions.

“But if it puts your mind at ease: I am not in a relationship with anybody from ANBU. And even if I was, I wouldn’t be getting hurt because of it.” Iruka wasn’t actually sure what the dating protocols for ANBU were like. Surely they could date non-ANBU but could their partners then know anything about their cover names and such? Questions for another day.

Momoko wiped at her eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He looked at the rest of the class. “That goes for the rest of you, too. I know there’s a lot of people who think it’s okay to go prying into someone’s private life, but it’s really not.”

Another kid raised his hand.

Iruka hesitated. “Yes, Masa-kun?”

“But isn’t it a shinobi’s job to find out secrets?”

Iruka sighed. “Not every secret. In fact, as a shinobi, you will encounter secrets that you are explicitly forbidden from investigating. And you should treat the secrets of your allies and friends the same way. If there is something for you to know or find out, you will be informed. Is that clear?”

The class replied with a satisfying chorus of ‘yes’ and Iruka had the chance to return to the actual lesson. He was annoyed, though, that this had been carried into his classroom. More so, that it had scared one of his students.

Maybe it was time to talk to Ino again, after all.

Iruka really didn’t like that thought. But it felt inevitable at this point. Whatever she was doing was probably meant to be a kindness but she was doing far too much. She had to stop.

So when class finally let out and Iruka released a herd of excited children into their weekend, he packed up to go complete his new errand before he could even think about anything like a weekend.

Yamanaka Flowers was a looming thing, sitting on the side of a big street. It had large windows and a large door in the center underneath a small awning that stretched along the side of the building. In its shade sat rows of potted plants, greenery and flowers alike. Above the door was a brightly painted sign with the shop’s name. A strong floral scent was carried to Iruka on a breeze.

He was standing down the street, a little ways away from his objective, still. Last time he’d spoken to Ino, it had ended in disaster. This time, he planned on having his words laid out beforehand so that he didn’t risk a repeat.

After a few moments of standing there and having people pass him by – some of them with the obligatory stare – he approached, hoping that Ino was going to be there. He planned on talking to her in private and being firm but kind with his request for her stop.

Just when he reached the farthest flower pot of the shop, Ino emerged with a customer in tow. Panic shot through Iruka and he jumped up onto the roof, tucking himself into a shadowed corner up against the neighboring building. He cursed himself for his overreaction. He’d simply expected for her to be alone and for him to be able to talk to her inside. Ah well. He was just going to do that once the customer was gone.

“Here are our hydrangeas,” Ino said, making Iruka feel all sorts of uncomfortable for listening in. “They’ll bloom until the end of fall, so there’ll be plenty of time to enjoy them.”

The customer, a middleaged woman that Iruka had barely gotten a glimpse of before his embarrassing escape, hummed. “Do the blossoms hold up when cut?”

“If you cut them once they’re mature, they can last up to two weeks in a vase. But only if you wait until they’re fully open. If you cut them too young, they’ll wilt quickly.”

The customer made another considering noise. “What about the meanings? Do they mean anything? I’d hate to have something out front that means something unpleasant.”

The customer was definitely a civilian then. Kunoichi were taught the art of flower arranging – which included the meanings of common flowers – during the Academy. Something that Iruka had been pushing for a while to make an optional course.

“They do,” Ino replied kindly. “Each color has a different meaning. Purple symbolizes abundance, white is purity, red is love, blue is regret and pink is romance.”

“Romance, huh,” the woman said. “Oh, that reminds me, Ino-san, did you hear about Iruka-sensei’s girlfriend?”

Iruka suppressed a groan alongside the urge to slam his head into the nearest wall. Of course this was coming up again. Though he was surprised that it was the customer bringing it up. Not Ino herself.

Ino hummed. “I heard about that picnic, but nothing specific about the girlfriend.”

“Really?” the customer asked.

“Yeah,” Ino replied. “Why? What did you hear?”

The next sentences were spoken far more quietly and Iruka had to focus to hear what the customer was saying. “I heard that he’s secretly seeing a traveling artist. And that they can only be together whenever she happens to be in town.”

Oh. Another new one.

“A traveling artist, huh?” Ino said, sounding deeply invested. “What artist? What art does she do?”

“She’s a musician, I think. He’s keeping it under wraps because their association could put her at risk.”

“I see,” Ino said. “Yeah, that makes sense. Though there’s a lot of rumors going around right now.”

The customer made a dismissive sound. “Most of what I’ve heard is complete nonsense. But this- I could see this. Artists are soft-hearted people. It just fits!”

Ino laughed. “Well, if you say so. But about the hydrangeas...”

As Ino began to explain the planting and care of hydrangeas, Iruka frowned to himself.

Something didn’t feel right. If this was Ino’s theory, why hadn’t she latched onto the woman bringing it up to support it?

Could it even have been Ino’s theory?

If Ino had made up that story, she must have told it to someone else. That other person then told the hydrangea customer without bringing up Ino’s name or anything else that identified her as the source of the information. It seemed a little odd. Especially because the light familiarity with which the customer spoke to Ino implied that she was a regular.

Eventually, the hydrangea customer left with – as far as Iruka had overheard – an order placed for four plants to be delivered to her house.

It was time for Iruka to go back down there. But he hesitated. He’d learned his lesson: No hasty moves. Something didn’t sit right with him and he had to determine whether he was just overthinking things or not.

Why had he believed that Ino had been responsible for the rumors in the first place? Mostly because of the timing. But as he went through all the things he’d heard so far, Ino’s name had never actually come up. No one had cited her as a source the way Anko had. No one had mentioned the Yamanaka flower shop, either.

Perhaps he needed some more information before doing anything drastic. So he got a little more comfortable in his little hideout on top of Yamanaka Flowers and hoped that Ino had no reason to start molding chakra to take a look at her surroundings. She was a top tier sensor, after all, and was going to find him in a split second if she cared to investigate her surroundings.

The shop was going to be open for another few hours. It was the most popular shop for any gardening and floral needs. The chances of someone else coming in to chat were fairly high. If Ino was spreading rumors about him, Iruka was going to hear it firsthand.

So over the next two hours, Iruka stuck to that small spot on the roof in his impromptu stakeout.

Shortly after the hydrangea customer had left a man walked into the shop, nervously asking for a bouquet. Ino asked him whether it was for a date with Ino-standard levels of interest and then proceeded to put something together that Iruka didn’t see but was probably lovely going by the reaction she received. By the time the customer was gone, Ino hadn’t brought up Iruka’s name once.

A little while later, multiple customers came in shortly after each other. The first Iruka recognized by voice. It was one of his shift partners at the Mission Desk, asking for something that could ‘liven up’ someone’s place without ‘needing a lot of attention’. Ino described some different plant options and their needs. When Iruka’s colleague brought up Iruka by name, likely to gauge a reaction for the theory he presented in addition, Ino reacted much the same as she had with the hydrangea customer – receptive to the idea but without providing any real input.

Once he left, Ino took the time to address the other customers – a team of genin who were looking for something to bring their jōnin-sensei for her birthday. Ino didn’t bring  Iruka up in her conversation with them either.

A few more people came in while Iruka was in hiding. Some of them with direct requests, others just browsing. Some of them mentioned Iruka – most likely because they knew Ino was the person to talk to about these things – but Ino had a relatively mild reaction each time. She never brought him up herself and always had the same story when someone else did: She had just heard about the picnic. Nothing else.

So not only did she not confirm a single one of the stories Iruka had assumed she had started, she also wasn’t giving out any new ones. She stuck to her one story which had never changed for as long as Iruka had known about it.

And as another person left after having received just such an answer – as well as a presumably very pretty orchid – Iruka was convinced: It was extremely unlikely that Ino was behind all the rumors. She wasn’t stupid. Spreading a million stories and then not sticking to a single one of them when asked was only going to ruin her own credibility.

Which begged the question: Where the hell did all of these stories come from?

Iruka abandoned his self-assigned post, making a silent apology to Ino and all of her patrons for listening in on their business.

There was, of course, the possibility that people were just coming up with their own theories. Iruka had already figured that people were going to start looking for answers. This was part of that process. It was an easy explanation.

It was an explanation that Iruka’s gut feeling didn’t agree with.

There was a pattern in these rumors. Each rumor that he had heard so far slotted perfectly into the gap left by the original story. Boiled down, each rumor was a description of a secret lover with a predominant demographic, quality or other trait that implicitly explained the need for secrecy. A civilian woman could be at risk because of a shinobi lover. A foreigner from an unallied nation could cause political problems. And so on.

Additionally, these rumors were extremely hard to disprove without Iruka disclosing anything further. So far, Iruka hadn’t heard any names, and identifiable details were kept vague as well.

Iruka didn’t deal with gossip too much if he could avoid it. But to the best of his knowledge, rumors based on false or incomplete information were sometimes very rough around the edges. Easily disproven or full of logical fallacies that made them easy to spot as false. But none of these stories were like that.

Of course, the people of Konoha were particularly seasoned gossips and there was a chance that inferior theories simply didn’t take root in the local consciousness due to their insufficient believability.

But then, supposing that these rumors were just individually made up stories that happened to be very solid, why was everyone who was talking about them so convinced by them? No one he had spoken to or listened to had sounded like they were theorizing. There had been certainty. Like information had been heard and judged as true.

Iruka sighed to himself. Something wasn’t right about this situation. Just as he had that thought, his stomach released a disapproving growl.

He needed some food.

.

Kakashi was starting at a document.

He’d been staring at it for an undetermined amount of time but undoubtedly far too long. It wasn’t a difficult document. Not complex in its contents nor challenging in what it required Kakashi to do. But it was important. It was the final design of the reworked security measures for the prison. Shikamaru and him had helped develop these together with a whole host of other people – from T&I to the barrier team – and now it was done and all he had to do was check whether everything was in line with the previously discussed measures – which had also been documented for his convenience – and approve the plan if it was acceptable.

The task had interrupted his other ongoing project about emergency response planning which he had only been able to work on for a total of ten minutes, because before that he had been stuck with inventory reports about the jōnin armory.

He really had to get back to emergency response planning because the city achitect wanted a response by the end of the day in order to keep going. Which meant he had to either approve or revise the prison security measures quickly.

But somehow, his head felt too full to even begin to process all the notes about special locks and barriers and guard personnel.

Just that morning while he’d been getting tea in the kitchen, he’d overheard two of the administrative staff gossiping about his boyfriend. One was of the opinion that Iruka was romantically involved with one of Konoha’s absentee spies – without providing any details about which one – and the other insisted that he was instead seeing a woman he had a secret family with. They both seemed pretty convinced of their respective opinions and eventually began to bicker about it. At which point Kakashi had rolled his eyes and left with his avant-garde mug full of tea.

One had to wonder whether the current situation was better than the village speculating about embarrassing details about Kakashi. But with the public interest burning high, it was going to be more difficult to distract them now.

It kept Kakashi’s mind busy and worrying. And it reminded him of the conversation he had had with Gai. One that had led him to the conclusion that he was placing a lot of responsibility on Iruka. But what he could do to change that short of ending things, he didn’t know. And it was driving him crazy.

Especially now when Iruka was already suffering so much under the public’s favorite pastime.

Kakashi had done a little more investigating via shadow clone if only to keep a finger on the pulse of the situation. He tried to use that tactic sparingly in order to not be detected, but he already couldn’t talk to Iruka. He couldn’t also let his situation get away from him.

The state of things was definitely not as bad as it could have been but it was disconcerting. There were a lot of conflicting theories about whom Iruka was seeing. Fortunately, all of them seemed to contain women, but who knew how long it was going to take until others cropped up.

Maybe this situation was getting out of hand. The time for embarrassing medical facts may have passed. But if love lives and romance were what captured the hearts of the people maybe Kakashi could provide a meaningful distraction that way, too.

He eyed the drawer containing the Hatake folder.

But immediately turned away from it. He shook his head. No. Bad idea. He couldn’t risk going down the path the elders wanted him to. The further he let it go, the more difficult it was going to be to disentangle himself from it later on. Not to mention that Iruka was going to kill him once he heard.

Kakashi took a deep breath. He looked at the work documents again. It wasn’t working. His head or his work – something wasn’t working. He’d been at his desk for far too long. He needed some fresh air. Or to move a bit. Or to beat something up.

He got up and made a shadow clone – he was pretty sure he was using them more now than he ever had in the field – to stay in the office.

“If anyone wants anything,” he told the clone, “I’m getting dinner and I will be back. If Shikamaru-kun comes in, tell him he’s fine to go home.”

“Sure.”

Kakashi nodded and got up from the chair, switching with his clone in the process, and opened a window. He didn’t feel like the door, even if it lost him decorum points to use the window. So he got up on the window sill and leapt out. His ANBU tail immediately jumped after him.

It was evening. The sun had already set and the village was drinking in the last of the light that still hung in the sky. The streets were flush with people running errands and hurrying to secure spots in restaurants or izakayas. The lively sounds of their day-to-day filled the air. Kakashi wondered about where to go.

There was the most foolish impulse to head straight to Iruka’s apartment. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week and it was getting to him. Especially because he felt that he really needed to talk to him about the rumors.

Speaking of rumors, if he was already outside he could just as well do some recon.

He headed into the busy heart of the town. People noticed, of course, and they greeted him but he tried to integrate himself into the flow of the crowd nonetheless. He wasn’t wearing his robes, allowing him to move at least slightly more unnoticed. Disappearing in a crowd was a very basic shinobi skill, even if one was instantly recognizable.

He walked about under the guise of looking for a place to get some dinner all the while keeping an ear out for gossip surrounding his boyfriend. He didn’t have Iruka’s uncanny hearing abilities, which would have been extremely useful in this case, but his senses were still sensitive and able to pick up on more than most others could.

As interesting a subject as Iruka was, the rumors attached to him didn’t dominate every conversation. It took a few minutes until Kakashi finally heard a woman mentioning him. It wasn’t hard to miss her, she was being relatively loud. Unfortunately, it was much more difficult to make out exactly what she was saying over the chatter surrounding him, so Kakashi turned to head into her direction.

Only to walk right into someone.

“Ah, sorry,” the person he’d bumped into said just as he was about to apologize himself. But then Kakashi saw and heard whom he had run into.

Iruka was bowing in apology.

“I didn’t see you, I-” He stood up straight. His eyes went wide. “Oh. Rokudaime-sama.”

A tidal wave of longing and yearning crushed Kakashi at once. The way Iruka was carrying himself and the bags under his eyes indicated his exhaustion. But he still looked radiant, illuminated by the lights of the shops around them. Everyone else and their chatter faded into the background and it took every ounce of Kakashi’s willpower not to reach out. He remembered himself and smiled easily. “No harm done, sensei. I was a bit distracted myself.”

Iruka shifted his weight around and glanced to both sides as if to make sure that no one was paying them any undue attention. “You, distracted? One can hardly imagine.”

Kakashi shrugged. “It has been known to happen.”

“Ah, well. I won’t keep you from your distractions, then,” Iruka said with a hesitant smile. “I was going to get dinner, anyway.”

Kakashi hummed. Something concerned sat in the back of his neck and told him to let Iruka go. But he was allowed to run into him by coincidence. And to talk to him. It was public knowledge that they knew each other, after all. “Anything special on the menu tonight?”

“Just ramen, I’m afraid. Nothing out of the ordinary for me.” Iruka laughed.

Kakashi wanted to take him home and provide him with a five-course menu. “Ramen, huh. I haven’t actually gone for ramen in a while. Mind if I tag along?”

Iruka stared at him, open-mouthed and wordless.

“Ah, I see. I’m intruding. And it’s awkward to tell a superior ‘no’, isn’t it? Forget I asked.” Kakashi made to turn away.

“Not at all!” Iruka blurted out. “I mean- it’s fine. It’s not as if I can tell you where to go anyway. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually live at Ichiraku’s.”

Kakashi chuckled. “In that case, let’s go.”

He started heading into the direction of the ramen shop. As Iruka fell into step beside him, Kakashi reflected that he wasn’t actually sure what the hell he was doing. He was supposed to stay away from Iruka. But then, everyone was so busy talking about which of Iruka’s supposed girlfriends was the real one – with no mention of a male lover or boyfriend in sight – that they were hardly going to pay any mind to him talking to Kakashi.

Kakashi knew that it was the untamed, insatiable beast of his love for this man making excuses when it had the object of its desire right in front of him. But Kakashi was weary and Iruka, clearly, was too, and it wasn’t as if they couldn’t control the flow of the conversation.

“Are you still a regular then, sensei?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka faked an awkward laugh and Kakashi could tell by the sound alone that Iruka wanted to punch him in the shoulder. He didn’t. “Not as much as I used to be. But I  suppose I’m still a big contributor to Teuchi-san staying in business.”

Kakashi hummed.

The sight of Ichiraku Ramen was a very familiar one. They both entered. There was already a row of people at the bar, leaving only two seats open that were right next to each other. Going by the row of flak jackets, the other guests were shinobi, too.

“Welcome!” Teuchi called in his usual boisterous manner. He was in the process of straining noodles. “Oh! Hokage-sama!”

That startled the row of shinobi at a bar into action. They immediately spun around, knocking into each other in the process. Two of them had their mouths still full. Still, they bowed and greeted him.

“That’s really not necessary,” Kakashi drawled. “At ease, everyone. I’m just here for dinner.”

Fortunately, that was enough for things to return to normal. Kakashi wanted to disappear but the small suppressed chuckle from Iruka made it all worth it.

Iruka sat down at the bar and the only open spot left was right next to him.

“Mind if I join you, sensei?” Kakashi asked carefully.

“Sure, Rokudaime-sama,” Iruka replied as he scanned the ramen menu that he knew by heart already.

“Again with the ‘-sama’,” Kakashi complained as he sat down beside him. “You know I’m still the same person you had no problem berating for mission reports. Not a lot of ‘-sama’ around back then.”

“Maybe,” Iruka conceded. “But you’re the Hokage. That’s a little hard to forget, Kakashi-san.”

“Tell me about it, the people at the tower won’t let me forget for a single day,” Kakashi complained.

“I wonder why,” Iruka replied.

Teuchi approached them. “So what will it be?”

They both placed their order – tonkotsu ramen for Iruka and miso ramen for Kakashi – and Teuchi nodded appreciatively before withdrawing to prepare the food.

Kakashi glanced at Iruka. “So how have you been?”

“How have I been?”

“Yes? Is that not how people talk? I might be losing touch being inside all day, but I thought that one was safe.”

Iruka snorted. Kakashi counted it as a win. “It’s safe, yeah. I’ve been... alright. Schoolkids can be a lot.” He hesitated. He eyed Kakashi. “There’s no point in pretending that you haven’t heard the rumors about me, is there?”

Kakashi inclined his head. “I may have caught one or two.”

Iruka frowned as he stared at the table in front of him. “I sort of hoped there were some places these rumors wouldn’t go.”

“Well, I mostly overheard things. People like to talk when they get their coffee,” Kakashi explained.

Iruka glanced at him and his eyes held a million unsaid things. “Well, I’d rather not complain to the Hokage of all people about my personal issues.”

Just then, Teuchi placed two steaming bowls of ramen in front of them. Around the same time, the other patrons at the bar left – with visible uncertainty about whether to say something to Kakashi or not.

Kakashi ignored them as he reached for the chopsticks. “I can lend an ear,” he told Iruka.

“Is this about all those rumors about your girlfriend, Iruka-sensei?” Teuchi integrated himself into the conversation.

Iruka turned to him. “You heard?”

“Well, yes, people have been talking a lot. And I do have ears,” Teuchi said.

“What exactly did you hear?”

“That you have a secret girlfriend. At first I was really happy for you. I was going to ask you to bring her with you sometimes. Would have given her a discount, too,” Teuchi mused.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

“But?” Iruka prompted.

“But now I’ve heard of so many different girlfriends, I wasn’t going to say anything at all.” Teuchi laughed. “First a civilian, then a former student’s mother, then a rumor that it’s not a girlfriend at all but that you just had a one-time date with a traveler.”

Kakashi eyed Iruka. “My, sensei. You’ve been busy.”

Iruka flushed. He glared at Kakashi. “None of that is true.” The ‘as you damn well know’ went unsaid.

“That’s what I figured,” Teuchi agreed, nodding to himself. “Really, there probably isn’t anyone at all.” He leaned a bit closer. “Or is there?”

Iruka laughed but Kakashi could hear that he wasn’t amused in the slightest. “There is not.”

For all that Kakashi was a rational being, hearing him deny Kakashi’s existence outright stung a little where it had no right to.

“Someone’s just making up rumors about me,” Iruka said. He finally reached for a pair of chopsticks himself and broke them apart. “Actually.” He looked back up at Teuchi. “Do you remember who told you those things? I’d really like a word with whoever is spreading these rumors.”

Teuchi put a hand to his chin in contemplation. “I don’t really remember who said what.”

Iruka hummed. “They probably didn’t mention whom they heard it from, either?”

“Not that I can recall. I’m sorry. But rumors like this are like the common cold. They spread fast, there’s no real medicine, but they’re gone without a trace within a week.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Iruka replied and picked up some noodled with his chopsticks. He looked dejected and annoyed.

Another pair of customers entered and Teuchi greeted them and retreated from Iruka’s and Kakashi’s conversation to handle his business.

Kakashi observed Iruka. He wanted to put a hand on Iruka’s or nudge him with his shoulder but he couldn’t. He thought over Iruka’s words. “You think someone is making these things up? Someone in particular?”

Iruka glanced at him as he slurped a portion of noodles. He chewed and swallowed. “I do. There’s a pattern to them that feels intentional.”

Kakashi thought about that.

“It might be nothing, but my gut says otherwise. I don’t know what rumors you’ve heard, Kakashi-san, but at a certain point you start to notice things,” Iruka explained in a low tone of voice.

“Doing some investigating then, sensei?”

“I think I will. And please don’t say that it won’t do any good. I know that it’s probably hopeless, but there’s just some things I’d like to know.”

Kakashi didn’t know whether it was going to do any good or not. Something was clearly up. Iruka wouldn’t have been interested in investigating things unless he thought there was a reason to. Normal gossip didn’t warrant something like that and Kakashi had no doubts that Iruka had already found out about Ino’s involvement. Especially if Lee had apologized to him like Gai had said.

But Kakashi and Iruka were supposed to be distant friends at best. And Kakashi was supposed to be notoriously disinterested in and unaffected by gossip. Were people going to think it out of character for him to ask why Iruka was so interested in the gossip surrounding him? Worse, was it going to seem like he, the Hokage, was trying to bait a subordinate into revealing personal details? Maybe it was better not to ask. But he had to contribute somehow.

“I’m not going to judge you, sensei,” Kakashi said easily. “Though, you know, there’s a bunch of quick and easy Fire Country C-ranks hanging around.”

Iruka looked at him for a long moment. “I appreciate the reminder. But I think I’d rather deal with this head-on.”

“As you say,” Kakashi replied, though the gnawing sense of protectiveness that had driven him to implicitly offer escape didn’t leave. He observed Iruka, who was clearly tense and bothered by the situation.

“Any word from Naruto?” Iruka suddenly asked.

Kakashi blinked. Oh. Damn. In all his thoughts about the Hatake folder and Gai and Iruka and the whole mess of it all, he hadn’t even really thought about this problem. The one Iruka was subtly addressing. Naruto was going to return any day now. And there was no way he wasn’t going to hear about these rumors. “Him and Sai are due to return soon,” Kakashi said.

“I see,” Iruka replied simply. “Thank you for telling me.”

And that was that. Kakashi wanted to offer support and reassurance, but he couldn’t. So they ate their ramen in silence for a while until both bowls were empty.

“Are you going to get anything else?” Iruka asked.

“I better not. I need to go back to the Tower.”

Iruka raised his eyebrows. “But it’s evening already.”

“True. But, er, don’t tell anyone, but I may be a little behind on my paperwork.”

Iruka frowned, looking perhaps a bit more concerned than he meant to. “Don’t you have assistants to help you out?”

Kakashi laughed. “Are you suggesting I pawn more work off on Shikamaru-kun? I’d really prefer it if he didn’t quit. Or are you angling for a new position?”

“No, thank you. I’m still very happy at the Academy.” Iruka was still looking at him with that same pinched brow.

Kakashi averted his eyes. “Anyway. This has been a much more pleasant dinner experience that I had anticipated. Take care, Iruka-sensei.”

“You too, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi paid for his meal and left, feeling much lighter than he had when he had left his office.

So Iruka was investigating those rumors that were being spread about himself. Interesting.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka didn’t know how things had turned out like this.

One day, Kakashi and him were friends who happily fell into bed together. The next, they were more akin to strangers with a shared history they couldn’t speak about.

Some part of Iruka – the part that thrived on indignant anger – wanted to blame Kakashi for everything. It was the part of him that protected him from injustice, making him snap at whoever it perceived to be a threat. But as much as Iruka wanted to give into that familiar feeling of rage, he couldn’t. Because while Kakashi had hurt him, he wasn’t solely responsible for the way things had turned out.

When it came down it, Kakashi was the one who was still trying to reach out. He had sought Iruka out with a clear intention to mend things, had offered to go to dinner and had tried to prompt conversations even when they didn’t come naturally to him. It had been Iruka who hadn’t reciprocated any of his efforts properly.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want things between them to work again. Iruka was a fixer by nature. He wanted to find Kakashi, grab him by the arms and shake him and ask him what the hell had happened between them. He wanted to demand that they go back to the way things had been, no matter what it took.

But it wasn’t that easy.

This wasn’t like that time last fall when Kakashi had shut Iruka out because he had thought himself to be something like a curse. This broken thing that Iruka was now constantly cutting himself open on was the result of a real, mutual argument. They’d torn open this chasm together and Iruka didn’t know what to demand of Kakashi to make it close again. And he didn’t know what he himself could give to build a bridge over it. Kakashi was stretching, reaching out to Iruka’s side. But it seemed like he was never going to be able to reach far enough to make contact. The chasm was too big for that.

Iruka couldn’t take back the desire he’d voiced, the truth that he wanted more than some fun at night after which Kakashi inevitably vanished. At the same time, Kakashi couldn’t take back his rejection of this desire.

So with Kakashi trying and failing to mend things and Iruka at a complete loss of what to do about it, always somehow wrong-footed and uncertain and quiet, it was inevitable that Kakashi eventually wanted to know whether he was supposed to keep up his attempts.

“Can this still work?” he asked in a subdued tone of voice one evening. He was standing in Iruka’s living room in his full uniform – safe for his shoes which he’d left by the door. One hand was in his pocket and he was looking aside as he tried very hard to seem indifferent.

Iruka knew him better than to believe in this indifference. Even if Kakashi didn’t want what Iruka wanted, he still cared about him and about what they had had. This was hurting him, too. Whether it hurt him more or less or just as much as Iruka was unimportant. They were both bleeding from similar wounds without the means to heal them.

Seeing that hurt, Iruka was so tempted to say ‘yes’. He wanted to say ‘yes’ because it was what he wanted to believe  – that things were going to work out. That everything was going to be okay in the end. But he didn’t know that. He couldn’t know that. Being in Kakashi’s presence hurt. Kakashi couldn’t make himself want things that he didn’t want. And Iruka couldn’t force himself to abandon the desires he held onto. Not without time, at least. Maybe not without some space.

It was painful to think that their friendship wasn’t strong enough to endure. But at this point, Iruka would have been foolish to think that everything was going to work itself out on its own.

“I don’t know,” he finally uttered because he couldn’t bring himself to say ‘no’. He couldn’t close that door entirely, even if he knew on some level that the door had fallen shut long ago.

Iruka wasn’t looking at Kakashi as he said it and he figured that maybe that was the reason he’d been able to say anything at all. When he did manage to find that singular dark eye with his gaze, Kakashi’s expression was unreadable.

“Okay,” Kakashi said even though nothing was okay. They both knew it.

As Kakashi turned to leave, Iruka wanted to reach out to stop him and try to make things right, even if a similar impulse had been the trigger of their problems. He loathed the indifference that Kakashi was affecting. Months ago, Kakashi had shown a side of himself that was woven of unyielding loyalty, that had come to life with ferocity when Iruka had been insulted. But that side lay dormant. It was quiet as Kakashi pretended that none of this affected him. And it allowed him to walk away.

It was unfair, of course, for Iruka to expect that side to emerge all on its own given the state of things. He knew that, at this point, all he would have had to do was ask Kakashi to keep trying and Kakashi would have done just that. But Iruka couldn’t do that to either of them.

So he let him leave.

When the front door closed, Iruka felt his eyes watering. A tidal wave of grief and pain crushed into him and made him feel the emptiness of loss. He crumpled to the floor and let out the kind of deep sobs and wails that they told you shinobi were incapable of. Iruka had never been good at controlling his emotions, but even so he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite like this.

Like he was going through a break-up even though Kakashi and him had never been together. What a joke.

He asked himself why. Why this had happened. Why they couldn’t have just stayed friends. He told himself that all he had wanted was for Kakashi to spend the night. That he would have been content with it happening just once. Or not even that.

But as he knelt on his floor, hunched over with his heart split in two he knew that that wasn’t quite right. Staying over was all the had managed to ask Kakashi for. But what he had actually wanted had always been more. The whole ugly truth behind that one question had always been much larger. He wanted so much from Kakashi. So many different things. But when Kakashi had shot him down so directly, Iruka had realized that all of those things were impossible. And that, all along, Iruka had been clinging to a stupid, foolish little hope that Kakashi was eventually going to want all of those things from him, too.

Iruka harbored true, deep and meaningful feelings for Kakashi. Beyond friendship. Beyond physical attraction. The kind of feelings that were never going to let him be content with being left behind at night.

And what he wanted – what he had actually asked for in that terrible moment – was for Kakashi to reciprocate those feelings.

No matter whether Kakashi had realized that or not.

Whether it was Iruka’s inability to handle that rejection or Kakashi’s inability to handle Iruka’s want for more that had led to them falling apart didn’t matter in the end. Perhaps it was both things in equal measure.

The end result was the same. Iruka was on his floor, sobbing. And Kakashi was somewhere out there, not returning. Likely not ever.

When the sobbing quieted down a small eternity later, the silence of Iruka’s apartment suffocated him with its deafening vastness.

Iruka didn’t always need the presence of others to work through his emotions. He’d rejected offers for company when he had been feeling bad numerous times in the past. But whenever it was loss that was clawing at his insides, bringing loneliness and emptiness with itself, he yearned for someone else to be by his side. Sandaime’s company had once helped him through the loss of his parents. And his friends had helped him come to terms with the hollowness and uncertainty that Mizuki had left behind.

So even though he couldn’t do what his friends did whenever they were suffering from heartache – which was to meet up and curse the offender for hours on end – he still made himself look as presentable as he could and went to Izumo’s and Kotetsu’s home. Ignoring the fear that his sudden intrusion wasn’t going to be welcome.

And the two of them were reliably available. One look at him and they were all over the idea of spending time together. Then they invited him inside when he said he didn’t feel like going out.

“Is everything alright?” Izumo asked gently when they were gathered in the living room. He was sitting on the couch beside Iruka while Kotetsu was on a cushion on the floor.

Iruka shrugged. “Not really.”

“Is it about that woman, still?” Kotetsu pried and it took Iruka a moment to figure out what woman he could have been referring to until he remembered the conversation they had had what felt like forever ago.

Shortly before Kakashi and him had sparred for the first time. Iruka grimaced and tried not to cry. “Kinda, yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Izumo offered.

Iruka wondered about that. Whether he could disguise his heartache over Kakashi as heartache for someone else. But he didn’t really feel like lying. And, when he thought about it, he didn’t feel like talking about any of this at all. He just didn’t want to be alone. Especially not in his own apartment where painful memories were lurking in every room. “I’d rather not.”

His friends didn’t pry any further than that, which Iruka was immensely grateful for. Instead, they tried to distract him by regaling him with weird anecdotes from their guard shifts while bickering about details the way they usually did. It didn’t really help the pain in Iruka’s chest, but at least he didn’t feel as lonely for a little while.

After that evening, there wasn’t much to do except to try to move on.

But the emptiness in Iruka’s life wasn’t so easily defeated. It wasn’t as if Kakashi had been there constantly before. In fact, his absences had been an unfortunate part of their friendship. But there had always been the notion that he was going to return, something that had comforted Iruka whenever he had waited for their next meeting. But all of that was different now.

Some days, Iruka left the Academy and something in his heart expected Kakashi to be lounging in the tree or standing by the gate, ready to accompany him to wherever he wanted to get dinner at. Other days, when he was working at the Mission Desk, his gaze kept straying to the entrance, waiting for Kakashi to appear quietly and to go stand in Iruka’s line even if it was the longest in the room. And sometimes when Iruka was walking through the village, taking a detour to try to enjoy the sun of a summer evening, all he could think about was a familiar presence appearing at his side out of nowhere and not leaving until long after the sun had set.

Other things changed, too, as the village suddenly appeared to be haunted. Wherever Iruka went, there were ghosts there. Though the chasm between Kakashi and him had only opened weeks ago, it felt like it had been a lifetime and all that was left of what they had had before were the spectres lingering about the spaces they had shared. They sat in various restaurants together, they walked side-by-side through parks and streets and they stalked Iruka on his way home and shared his apartment with him, making themselves known in his kitchen and in his living room and in his bedroom.

Iruka tried to focus on his work to ignore them. But they were always there, ever-present, coming to life in different sensations. And sometimes, Iruka immersed himself in them. As if pressing on a bruise on his own soul to feel its ache. Iruka looked at the Hokage Monument in the bright summer sun and he tasted the watermelon Kakashi and him had shared. He taught his students in the schoolyard and saw Kakashi and himself in the shade of the tree, building training dummies. He trained by himself and heard Kakashi’s quips from during their spars. He came home and smelled Kakashi’s cooking in the air. And he laid awake in bed, feeling calloused hands trailing hesitant lines and gentle patterns over his skin.

It was a special kind of madness, to be so haunted by memories that he’d been so fond of just a few weeks before.

Iruka pushed himself to make it through his days in spite of the hauntings and imaginings and he fell back into a routine that had once felt much more familiar. He worked at the Academy or for the Academy. He completed shifts at the Mission Desk. He took on administrative tasks around the Tower. Whenever someone asked for assistance with some bureaucratic nonsense, he offered a helping hand.

It was on a weekend when someone else took note of this change and the way he had changed in general. It had only been a matter of time, Iruka figured, considering how bad he was at hiding his own mood. Though the subject came up in a way he hadn’t expected.

He was in the Tower, doing some filing in the archives – another one of those ‘helping hand’ things he had agreed to – when he ran into Genma in the hallway.

“Mh, Iruka-kun. Didn’t know you were in today.”

“Just helping out,” Iruka said as he readjusted his grip on the box of folders in his arms.

Genma considered him, tilting his head. “So things are back to normal?”

Iruka raised his eyebrows. “Normal? What do you mean?”

Genma shrugged. “Dunno. Thought you’d quit being a workaholic or something.”

“I’m not a workaholic,” Iruka replied curtly and with a glare.

“Well, you weren’t for a bit there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Iruka-kun, you know,” Genma said. “You’re always busy and always stressed about something. Everyone knows it.”

“I doubt that’s true seeing as I don’t know about it.”

“Well, you seemed less stressed for a while. Figured Godaime finally got you to drop one or two shifts or something. But I guess you’re back in full force, huh.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Iruka bit out. He was irritated with this conversation and worried about what he was going to give away if it continued, so he shouldered past Genma. “I have to get this filing done.”

“You know it’s not a crime to take it easy,” Genma called after him but Iruka ignored it.

Genma, as per usual, had no idea what he was talking about, after all.

But then, the conversation didn’t leave Iruka alone.

He knew that he was in a bad mood most days currently and he’d known that people were going to take notice. But the idea of this being what he had been like at some point in the past bothered him.

Except, when he thought about Genma’s words, when he thought about the time before Kakashi and him had become friends, he couldn’t deny that he found some kind of truth to them.

The dreary routine he was stuck in wasn’t entirely new. It was what his days had been like before Kakashi had become his friend. Endless days at the Academy, Mission Desk shifts with nothing in particular to look forward to afterwards – an endless cycle of responsibilities.

Sure, back then he had had his friends asking him to hang out and of course the number one routine-breaker Naruto had been there, serving as one of the brightest parts of his days. But there had been something very unique about Kakashi’s brand of interference that had changed Iruka’s life altogether.

Where Iruka’s friends had slotted themselves into the gaps left by his responsibilities and Naruto had been so unpredictable that Iruka had to make room for him wherever possible, Kakashi had existed in a middle ground. He had never demanded Iruka’s undivided attention and had always asked whether there was time, but his appearances had been irregular, decided by factors that neither of them had been able to account for and Iruka had postponed grading and preparation sessions to make time for him. He had done it gladly.

Iruka and his friends had always hung out at the same places and Naruto and him almost always at Ichiraku’s. But Kakashi and him had gone everywhere. Not because Ichiraku’s hadn’t been enough but because the simple act of trying new things together had been part of the fun.

It had disrupted Iruka’s life in the best way. Giving him company and novelty and a new kind of joy.

And that wasn’t even considering the way Kakashi himself had made him feel.

Whether Iruka had spoken about his class or his administrative work, Kakashi had always listened with rapt attention. Iruka had often expected that interest to fade or wane or reveal itself to have been fake all along. But none of that had ever happened. Kakashi had been interested in all of it. He had been interested in Iruka. Iruka’s thoughts and opinions. His whims and wants. His low-stakes little Konoha-bound life.

Kakashi had made him feel special in a way no one else ever had before. Thoroughly valued and appreciated. Like he was interesting, someone important. Like he was worth coming home for.

He’d begun to look forward to telling Kakashi about things. Had thought about how things that happened at work could be turned into fun stories to share. He’d gone through the village not just to get to wherever he needed to go but in search of new places they could try out together. He’d learned new things, overheard heated debates and had barely been able to wait to get Kakashi’s opinion on them.

Kakashi had begun to be so much to him. Even long before Iruka had opened his mouth and asked for more.

It made sense that Iruka found shadows of him lingering wherever he went. It made sense that Iruka missed him everyday even when they had never had the luxury of seeing each other that frequently.

But Iruka didn’t want to be haunted. Even if it had only been a few weeks, even if time was sure to make this wound heal eventually, he wanted to lessen its pain. So he became proactive.

Iruka arranged to meet the man over a distant friend of a distant friend – as these things went when your romantic and sexual preferences didn’t align with what was publicly accepted.

His name was Tanosuke and he was stupidly attractive. He had pretty lips that curved into a nice smile and hazel eyes that shone with kindness. His body was sculpted into the lean physique of a battle-hardened shinobi and his hair was a warm shade of brown that shimmered almost golden when the light hit it.

Iruka met Tanosuke in a bar for an inconspicuous date only to learn that Tanosuke was apparently the whole package. He was friendly and polite when he spoke, he asked Iruka a lot of questions and freely shared funny stories when asked. He had a full, passionate laugh that he didn’t attempt to hide. And the few insights he allowed into his deeds and his past painted him to be in possession of a good, big heart. Even his flirtation was just right – enticing but not too forward.

And Iruka did his best to flirt back. He gave him all the right looks and held himself in all the right ways and he hoped that maybe if he acted interested, something was going to ignite within him that was going to make him want to take this man home.

But even as Iruka acknowledged Tanosuke’s attractive looks and personality and told himself that that was someone ideal to go home with, he felt no pull. Instead, he found this seemingly perfect man to be lacking. After all, why didn’t his eye crinkle the right way when he smiled? Why was his inflection so animated and lively? Why didn’t he chuckle at the right parts of Iruka’s stories? Why didn’t he know that the mention of ‘training dummies’ was supposed to make him snort? Why did he like sweets more than vegetables and didn’t know how to cook?

Why wasn’t he Kakashi?

When they left the bar and Tanosuke inevitably quietly asked Iruka whether he wanted to come home with him, there was nothing else to say but ‘no’. Anything else would have been unfair to both of them. Tanosuke’s face fell at the rejection and betrayed genuine surprise. He asked Iruka whether he’d been off-putting in some way and Iruka felt guilty for dragging someone else into his mess and did his best to reassure him that he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.

Iruka didn’t try to go on a date again.

Summer carried on and the void in Iruka’s chest only grew. He sometimes considered trying to find Kakashi to talk. Maybe to start over. But he had no idea what something like that could have looked like.

And apparently, fate insisted that he wasn’t allowed to forget because he wasn’t the only one with Kakashi on his mind.

On one particularly hot day that had Iruka avoiding the sun at all costs, he was tasked with fetching something from the jōnin standby station. Not his favorite activity as any time spent in jōnin-preferred or jōnin-exclusive locations felt like he was treading through enemy territory. But needs must. He was grateful that the hallways of the building were marginally cooler than the simmering heat outside and slowed his pace to appreciate it for a few minutes before he had to go back out.

The door to the lounge of the standby station stood open as Iruka walked past it and a piece of conversation that decidedly was not meant for him reached his ears.

“Man, I never thought I’d be grateful to Hatake of all people.”

Iruka stopped in his tracks. The voice was vaguely familiar, most likely he’d interacted with this person at the Mission Desk a few times. Iruka willed himself to keep going – this was none of his business, after all – but he failed to follow through. He didn’t know where Kakashi was or what he had been up to in the last weeks and desperate curiosity rooted him firmly to the spot.

“Why? What did he do?” a different voice asked, bewildered, as if the idea of Kakashi doing anything for anybody was unbelievable.

There was the noise of fabric on fabric, someone shifting on one of the couches. “There was this grueling mission close to Rain I was supposed to go on, right?”

“There was?”

The first voice scoffed. “Yeah, there was. I told you about it. Anyway, Hatake took it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He showed up at the Mission Desk when I was going to pick up my brief, demanded something high-stakes and out of Fire Country that was going to last at least a week. The guy at the desk said he only had the one mission at the moment and it was already assigned but caved when Hatake stared him down. Scary stuff.”

The second voice hummed. “He’s always been a freak I guess. Why’d he ask for something like that?”

“Fuck if I know. I was just happy it was off my hands. Got a quick trip to Wind, instead.”

“Sweet.” The voice paused. “You know, now that you mention it, I think I heard someone else say something similar a couple of days ago. That Hatake’s been picking up trash missions lately. Guess that’s more than a rumor, then.”

“Well, if he’s taking any more like mine for sure. Would have been a stakeout. No guarantee of extraction if something goes wrong. Drenched clothes for days.”

“Damn. Whoever would have thought that Friend-Killer Kakashi would take all the garbage off our hands?”

Iruka frowned deeply at the insult, his shoulders drew up and his heart clenched with a mixture of anger and worry. He barely kept himself from bursting into the room and yelling at them. Instead, he stomped away to complete his task, concern gnawing at his nerves.

The concern only got stronger when, over the course of the next days, Iruka kept overhearing similar stories. Of Kakashi taking on terrible missions. And lots of them.

And apparently, Kakashi managed to return from his terrible stolen mission to Rain way before he had been scheduled to because one afternoon while Iruka was working at the Mission Desk, a nurse stormed into the room, looking around frantically with anger written across her face.

Iruka stood up immediately to address her. But before he could ask what was going on, she spoke up, her attention now directed at the shinobi who were on shift at the Desk.

“If Hatake Kakashi comes by to pick up a mission, do not give him one.”

Iruka’s heart plummeted into his gut. He could intuit the rest from that statement alone. Kakashi had been in the hospital. Kakashi was supposed to still be in the hospital. And yet, Kakashi had left the hospital.

“Erm,” Iruka’s shift partner spoke up, looking hesitantly between Iruka and the nurse. “He’s already been by today.”

“He has?” Iruka asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“This morning before you got here,” Iruka’s shift partner admitted and he might as well have kicked Iruka in the stomach.

The nurse groaned. “Right. Well. Whenever he reports back in, don’t let him go without a check-up.”

Iruka’s shift partner paled at the prospect of having to tell Kakashi anything at all about what he was supposed to do. “I-I’ll try.”

The nurse nodded and took her leave. Iruka sat back down.

Days passed and Iruka couldn’t stop thinking about it. The heartache he’d been wrestling with for weeks was now supplemented with fear. Bone-deep, soul-rattling fear. Sometimes, he laid awake at night, staring at the empty side of his bed and wondering whether Kakashi was still alive out there or whether he’d already pushed himself too far. He imagined a ceremony being held as the name ‘Hatake Kakashi’ was carved into the memorial stone. No grave because whatever way Kakashi died was not going to let someone recover his body.

He imagined himself visiting the memorial stone, trying to speak to Kakashi like he did to his parents, but having no words to say except for accusations that he wasn’t allowed to make anymore.

Iruka had lost the right to interfere when he’d given up on their friendship. When he’d rejected Kakashi’s attempts at reaching out and had never made his own. Someone was going to do something. Someone else had to see what was going on, that Kakashi was on a path that had no good ending, and they were going to interfere to protect him from himself. Someone was going to. Someone had to.

But no one did.

No one could have because a few days later, something shocking happened. The specter came back to life. The ghost haunting Iruka took shape.

It was a coincidence, their meeting, because there was no way they would have met intentionally anymore. It was outside, somewhere between the village gate and the Tower on an ordinary street on an ordinary day. Iruka was minding his own business, thinking about doing some grocery shopping when he spotted him. A crowd was clearing, revealing him standing only a few paces away. Iruka stared. Kakashi stared right back.

And Iruka’s fears flared to life once more.

Because while Kakashi was there and appeared to be in one piece, something foreboding and terrible rested in all of his features. His skin was paler than it usually was and the dark shadow under his eye stood out in sharp contrast. He appeared disheveled and Iruka couldn’t tell whether he’d just returned from a mission or whether this was his new normal. He was hunched over more than usual, his slouch no longer casual but something ragged and broken. He looked like a man on the way to his own execution. At the same time, he looked like he was the one holding the blade.

A tight knot formed in Iruka’s chest at the sight and he wanted to reach out and grasp that thin wrist to keep Kakashi from disappearing again. To stop him from walking the path he was on any further. But all he could do was stare and try not to cry as he felt that he had not only lost him but was going to have to mourn him, too.

Kakashi looked away and left without saying a word.

And Iruka realized, fully realized, that it didn’t matter whether or not Kakashi and him were still friends. Not when it came to this. Kakashi could hate him and curse him for the rest of his days.

But Iruka was not going to let Kakashi destroy himself.

He was not going to let him die.

-

Kakashi left the village on another assignment as soon as he could.

He didn’t think, he didn’t feel. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Beneath it all, his heart, his insides and his soul were breaking apart.

And he wondered if his body was going to join them soon.

Chapter Text

Present day

The following morning, Iruka left his apartment with determination burning in his heart.

Talking to Kakashi had soothed his soul and allowed him to find his focus again, even if the conversation had been relatively brief and constrained to whatever they could talk about in public.

He didn’t like that Kakashi had been forced to go back to work afterwards. But at least he’d been aware enough of his own needs to feed himself dinner – something that wasn’t always the case when he was engrossed in his job. And honestly, perhaps spending time in the office wasn’t the worst option for him. Kakashi had told Iruka what the Hokage Residence was like at some point. He hadn’t complained – he probably hadn’t meant to seem entitled since he was living there for free – but none of the words he had used had painted a pleasant picture. Kakashi was probably more comfortable behind his desk than he was confined to those walls.

Even so, Iruka still worried. But it wasn’t as if he could do anything to help at this point. And he had a task of his own to complete.

So for now, he had to focus on his investigation.

He needed to find out who was spreading those uncannily perfect rumors about him. Teuchi unfortunately hadn’t provided much information and Kakashi had seemed surprised by the idea that it could be a single perpetrator, but Iruka felt more sure than ever that what was going on was at least not the organic emergence of theories. The patterns, the unclear point of origin – when he put all the odd details together they all pointed to the fact that something was off.

And Iruka was going to find out what that was.

He had several leads to follow. After all, more than enough people had directly confronted him with a rumor. All he had to do was find some of these people again, ask them where they had gotten their story from and follow the chain of information back to its source. It was so straightforward that it seemed almost boring. Iruka had completed more exciting investigative missions back when he’d still been training under his jōnin-sensei.

Still, he had to be thorough and he couldn’t underestimate the discomfort of talking to people about all of this, especially if he was going to be validating some of the information in their minds. But at least he had time to be subtle and to follow multiple threads if necessary. It was the weekend and Iruka only had an evening shift at the Mission Desk.

He decided to start with one of the older theories and sought out Sadao, who had asked him about his supposed civilian girlfriend a few days before. It was easy for Iruka – who had access to most of Hokage Tower – to find out where he was stationed at what point in time. A shift listing for patrol duty informed him that Sadao was currently posted close to the gates of the village. So Iruka headed there.

As soon as Sadao spotted him, an overly pleased grin appeared on his face.

“Oh! Iruka-sensei! Good morning!” he called out. In spite of how awkwardly their last interaction had ended, Sadao appeared thoroughly genuine in his enthusiasm. His demeanor was a far cry from the intimidating aura he’d projected when he’d first addressed Iruka in the market.

“Ah, hello, Sadao-san.”

Sadao drew a little closer, staying by to his post but making it clear that he wanted to talk to Iruka. “How lucky that you’re here! We never got to finish our talk.”

“Yeah, I guess we didn’t,” Iruka replied. He honestly hadn’t expected Sadao to still believe in the theory he’d unwittingly shared. But apparently, he had been wrong. That also explained his friendly attitude – he still thought that Iruka was a kindred, civilian-woman-dating spirit. He briefly considered how to play his hand and figured that neither confirming nor denying was probably the best policy.

“So, about what I told you,” Sadao started, visibly happy to have found someone to talk to about this again. “I talked to her, right? I explained to her why it was important to me to have weapons on hand but she kept saying that it made her uncomfortable. What do you do about that?”

Iruka grimaced. “I’ve never had that issue,” he said honestly. “But I imagine I’d look for a compromise. One set of weapons stashed in a storage scroll, maybe. That way she doesn’t have to live with weapons lying about but you get to be equipped in case of an emergency.”

“Storage scrolls,” Sadao said and he hit his forehead with his palm. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I like to have things on hand, so I don’t use them at home.”

“Well, maybe it would be a solution for both of you if you did.”

“Yeah... Yeah! Thanks, Iruka-sensei!” Sadao said and slapped Iruka’s shoulder a bit too hard. “I knew I could trust you with this! Being that you’re in the same situation and all.”

“About that,” Iruka said, happy to have caught a thread to latch onto, “do you remember where you heard that from?”

“Where I heard it?” Sadao hummed in contemplation. “Oh, I think some friends of mine told me.”

“Do you know where they heard it?” Iruka pressed.

“No, sorry. You’d have to ask them,” Sadao said.

“Can you tell me where I can find them?”

Sadao could and he did. The friends in question were chūnin as well. One of them was currently out on a mission, but the other one was supposed to be doing inventory in the jōnin armory, so that’s where Iruka went next. He quickly found her, going through the different shelves of equipment. She seemed almost alarmed when Iruka approached her, amber eyes flickering around to look for a way of escape. But she visibly relaxed when Iruka calmly and politely asked her about the rumor.

“I overheard it at a Teppan Tengoku, the place near the memorial fountain. Do you know it?”

Iruka nodded his assent.

“Right, well. We went there for lunch and someone in the next booth was talking about you and your girlfriend. He wasn’t exactly quiet, so we heard everything,” she explained as she tapped her pen against her clipboard.

“Who was it? Someone you know?”

She shook her head. “No. Never seen him before.”

“Can you remember anything about him?” Iruka asked. “What was he wearing? What did his hair look like? His build? Any notable features?”

She raised an eyebrow at him but then seemed to seriously consider it and Iruka was endlessly grateful for her effortless cooperation. “I’m pretty sure he was in uniform, so he was a chūnin, at least. Um. Dark hair, I think? His build was... average. I don’t think he had any distinguishing features...”

Iruka grimaced. “That’s pretty vague.”

“Sorry,” she said and shrugged. “It’s all I can remember. Like I said, he was one booth over. And my back was to him, so I mostly heard his voice. And before you ask, that was unremarkable, too.”

Iruka sighed. “Alright then, thank you.”

He left her to her work. That description was far too vague to work with. So that was a dead end. Which was fine, Iruka had enough other avenues to pursue. Next, he tracked down the teacher who had approached him in the teacher’s lounge a few days ago.

She was at home and he felt a bit bad about intruding on her weekend, but while she was surprised to see him at her door, she was as warm and welcoming as she always was. She invited him inside with an offer of tea, but he declined. When he asked her where her rumor had come from, she recounted having heard it from her sister who had overheard it while grocery shopping.

She was kind enough to bring Iruka to her sister without hesitation and made introductions so that Iruka could follow up further. But when questioned about the rumor, her sister couldn’t provide any actionable information, either.

“Oh, I think he must have been a shinobi. He was wearing a uniform. Um... he looked pretty normal? I think he had black hair. Maybe brown. On the longer side and loose. Oh and his eyes were... brown, too? I think. He had a pleasant face.”

“Pleasant in what way?” Iruka asked.

She hesitated. “Just... pleasant? It’d hard to put into words.”

Iruka hummed. The description was somewhat similar to the first one he had received, but they weren’t identical. They could have been referring to the same person or not, without more information, it was impossible to tell. Either way, it wasn’t enough to identify anybody, let alone to track them down.

So he kept going.

The next theory he followed up on was the one about the traveling artist. He had overheard the address of the hydrangea customer at Ino’s store and managed to tail her and ‘stumble into’ her on her way to the grocer. Iruka pretended to be very worried and when she inevitably noticed and asked him about it he cited that he was ‘concerned about something’. She must have made an assumption because it was a short conversational trip to Iruka being able to ask where her information had come from. It had been the owner of a tea house.

Iruka visited said tea house and asked the owner. She then described a customer as the source of her information: a male shinobi, average in most ways with light hair – though not notably light, like the hair of a Yamanaka – and no other notable qualities or features. Once again, nothing specific to go on.

The next trail Iruka pursued yielded a similar result. And the one after that. And the one after that one, too.

Iruka spent his day following as many leads as he could. But his investigations always ended the same way. He followed the information back from person to person and the last person he spoke to always provided a similar useless description.

No one was able to give him the name of their mysterious source, nor a satisfying list of attributes. All they could provide were generic features and non-descriptive qualities that left Iruka with nothing further to investigate. There were light variations in each story, like hair color, height or some other feature that set each description apart.

And though this could have disproven Iruka’s theory about one perpetrator, he actually felt as though these accounts were bolstering it. Simply because in a shinobi village there were not this many unknown and unnotable shinobi. Scars, the way a forehead protector was worn, sheathed weaponry, clan symbols, not to mention all the other ways in which a person could look remarkable – most people had at least something that was identifiable in some way. Perhaps not unique. But more unique than the descriptions he received.

It wasn’t difficult to deduce where all these nondescript people were coming from. In a way, they weren’t. They were all one and the same person.

The perpetrator must have been using a henge. Using a disguise that was so bland that no one remembered anything about it. In this case with slight alterations, perhaps to prevent people from thinking it was one and the same person in each instance and thereby discrediting themselves and their own rumors.

Using a bland henge was a technique that Iruka was familiar with. More than most perhaps, as it was a technique that his boyfriend liked to use to move about unnoticed. Kakashi was extremely skilled at crafting the most unmemorable disguise anyone had ever seen – and immediately forgotten about. Iruka imagined that anyone interacting with Kakashi while he was in one of those disguises probably would have had similar difficulties describing him as all the people Iruka had spoken to that day.

Of course, there was no reason for Kakashi to spread rumors like that. Rumors that were pretty exhausting for Iruka to deal with.

Unless he’d meant for them to help.

And actually, it would have been a very Kakashi thing to do. Going around spending all his resources on something like that. And it would have explained why he was so behind on his paperwork, too.

After hours of investigation, Iruka returned to his apartment. Evening had come around far too quickly and he wanted to take a moment to reflect before going to his shift at the Mission Desk. Though he admittedly hadn’t gathered the information he’d hoped for, he felt that he had actually made some progress.

“Alright,” he told himself as he toed off his shoes. He didn’t have anyone to talk to, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t talk. Talking things through often helped him to streamline his thoughts, even if there was no one around to respond. At least that also meant that there was no one around to interrupt.

“What are the facts?” he asked himself. “Someone is spreading well-crafted rumors about me. There are probably more than fifteen in circulation right now, maybe a lot more. All of them exhibit the same traits. One: They provide me with a female partner who could have been on that picnic. Two: They never provide a name or other clearly identifiable details about the partner. Three: They provide enough context for anyone to immediately understand why I would keep the partner secret. And four: They never provide me with a partner that paints me in a strictly negative light. None of the stories imply misconduct or something that is immediately morally questionable.”

When all of this had begun, aside from fearing that people were going to find out the truth, he’d been a little worried that people were going to think he was meeting a former student or an assistant teacher or something of the sort. That the assumption was going to be that the reason he was keeping secrets was because the truth was something bad.

Iruka began pacing in his living room.

“The people repeating the stories have different backgrounds. Age, gender, job, rank – it’s all varied. Same goes for the locations where they say they first heard about it. Restaurants, markets, shinobi-exclusive locations... That doesn’t say a lot except that the perpetrator is very likely a shinobi. But given that they’re probably using a henge, that’s not surprising.”

Iruka stopped pacing. One angle that he’d been neglecting had been the motive. “What could someone possibly gain from doing this?” Could it really just be that Kakashi was doing it to protect him? “But then why didn’t he give me a heads-up? Or a hint at Ichiraku’s? Perhaps he thinks I’ll be upset with him if I find out? But he doesn’t usually keep secrets from me...”

But other than a strange attempt at protection, Iruka didn’t really know what someone had to gain from this except for entertainment. If it was a measure of protection, Iruka supposed that Shikamaru could have also been a possible candidate. But there was no way in hell Shikamaru was going through this kind of effort for it. Plus, Kakashi would have noticed it if his assistant kept disappearing at work to sow rounds of rumors in the population.

Could it really be that someone was just doing this out of personal enjoyment? Cruelly taking advantage of Iruka’s situation? But who? And why wait for an opportunity to present itself when rumors could be started at any given point? They could have just started making things up. Evidently, people didn’t really question the validity of a good story too much.

Iruka groaned. Knowing that he’d been right that this was someone acting with intent was progress. But it was also driving him crazy because he couldn’t figure out who it was or why. And he felt like he was running out of time even though there wasn’t a deadline.

He glanced at the clock and realized that it was getting late. He went to the bathroom to check his appearance in the mirror. And when he did, he suddenly realized what that feeling of an impending ultimatum was:

It was Naruto.

Each day that passed was a day closer to Naruto’s return and Iruka still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do when he got back. Iruka still couldn’t picture himself just outright lying to Naruto. But he also couldn’t betray Kakashi by telling him the truth.

And not knowing how this mystery person played into everything made things worse.

What if they had ill intentions after all? What if they were waiting for the return of one of Iruka’s most precious people to drop a horrible and nasty rumor about him in the hopes that it caused problems? It seemed like a strange plan, but without knowing the mystery person’s identity or motives, it was impossible to know for sure.

All of this was kind of bizarre and it wasn’t something his training had ever really prepared him for.

Although... perhaps that wasn’t quite true.

Iruka was a shinobi. And gathering intelligence and finding people were basic shinobi skills. All Iruka had to do was catch a mystery person. He didn’t know anything about their traits that was going to help, but he did know one thing about them for certain: They spread rumors about him. So all Iruka had to do was catch them in the act.

Of course, now that he’d begun his investigation, he’d stirred the pot. The mystery person was most likely going to be careful about not encountering him. And there was no telling where they were going to show up next.

Iruka had to cast a broad net to find the perpetrator. And he had to do it by himself. He could make clones, but not enough to cover a large enough area of Konoha, especially not without drawing attention to himself. But there was something he could do. One method of surveillance that was perhaps entirely unique to him.

If someone was telling rumors, all Iruka had to do was listen.

That’s how he found himself on a roof in the middle of Konoha the next day. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his hands resting lightly on his thighs – a meditative position. He’d chosen the location because of the areas it allowed him to cover if he focused on his hearing. It unfortunately meant that he had had to place himself in a part of town where other people were around. But if someone spotted him, all they were going to see was him meditating in a slightly odd location.

It wasn’t even that far from the truth. Iruka wasn’t only going to focus on his hearing, he was going to channel as much of his usable chakra into his ears as he could. This technique was not only taxing but it required an immense amount of concentration for what he was trying to achieve.

But he was out of other options.

He took a deep breath. Held it for a moment. Exhaled slowly. And he listened.

The first thing his senses picked up were the shapes and outlines of his immediate surroundings, but he ignored them. For his plans today, he didn’t actually need to hear things that others could never hear. No, his focus was directed at fine-tuning his hearing, casting his sense farther outward than it ordinarily went. And then to wait for a single thing, something that people instinctively latched onto whenever they heard it: His own name.

What he was trying to do was, quite frankly, a bit insane. There were so many people in Konoha having so many conversations at the same time. He was surrounded by chatter. Picking out any particular detail in all that noise was normally impossible. But Iruka held out hope that one’s own name was a different matter. People were so attuned to hearing it. It always stood out, sounding louder than everything else. One didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to pick up on their name being spoken in the middle of a conversation. A name was an instantaneous, ingrained trigger.

Iruka was relying on it.

So he let himself fall into an almost trance-like state, focusing on his sense of hearing and extending it as far as it could go. Chatter filled his mind. His attention jumped from location to location. A few streets over, two people were having a dispute over who should pay for a damaged purchase. In the next neighborhood, a group of children were letting out riotous laughter as one of them did their best impression of their father. Further away, at a training ground, two shinobi were yelling insults at each other as they sparred. Iruka let his attention to drift from scene to scene, but he rejected the information, not allowing it to be parsed any further than perception, keeping his mind blank and receptive. Listening and listening and listening.

He was numb to his surroundings with his other senses and he began to feel like the wind sweeping over the village. He didn’t wonder or fret for once. His mind was relaxed yet focused as he waited for one thing.

“... Iruka-sensei ...”

His eyes snapped open.

Western guard station. On the ground in front of the main entrance.

He was moving before he knew it.

He leapt from roof to roof with single-minded purpose, his state of surveillance abandoned as the sensations and stimuli of a million things rushed at him. It would have been overwhelming if not for his narrow focus: Getting to the location. He pushed himself, getting closer and closer until he –

– landed on the ground in front of two chūnin. They both immediately startled.

He looked between them. He recognized them both, although he didn’t know them well.

“Iruka-sensei!” one of them exclaimed.

“That’s so creepy... we were just talking about you,” the other said with visible astonishment.

“What a coincidence,” Iruka replied as he eyed them both in an attempt to read their expressions. Iruka remembered that one of them was permanently stuck on patrol and guard rotations and had been since he’d gotten his rank. The other did some administrative things in the archives from time to time. “I was just in the area to check on something. Out of curiosity, why were you talking about me?”

Iruka put on his best stern teacher face to hopefully prompt them into giving him a truthful response. But there was no need, they opened up easily.

“I was just considering taking up Mission Desk shifts,” the chūnin who worked in the archives said, “and I just said that I hope I’ll get some shifts with you. You seem to know your stuff.”

“Oh.” Iruka blinked. It didn’t feel like this person was lying. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say. I have to get going but let me know if you need any help with that.”

“Will do.”

Iruka nodded and took off before heading back to his self-assigned post. He knew he was probably not doing his reputation any favors, appearing like a bat out of hell in the middle of other people’s conversations, but he didn’t care. He needed to find the person responsible for the rumors. That was his priority.

He sat back down with his legs crossed and resumed his meditation.

The conversation about Mission Desk shifts was only the first of many false alarms that he wasted his time investigating. However, some of the other instances of his name being said were far less innocent – and less flattering – than the first. People gossiping about him, sharing even more rumors about whom he was seeing. However, it was clear from the way they spoke that these people were just passing on information. No nondescript strangers in sight.

Iruka didn’t interrupt every conversation he investigated. Most of the time he kept himself hidden, hoping to spot anyone matching the non-descriptions he’d received. But he returned to his spot each time. And with every time he made himself walk back and resume his meditation, his determination wavered a little more. This was definitely a last ditch effort. And he’d known the odds were stacked against him from the beginning. There was a decent chance that the mysterious stranger wasn’t going to be making an appearance that day.

Pushing his hearing for such a long time was chakra-consuming and tiring, he was going to be forced to give up soon. If he didn’t call it quits before then. As he jumped back up onto the roof he hesitated. Maybe it was time to call it a day, already. He’d tried, he’d trained his hearing ability a bit in the process. There probably wasn’t much more he could gain from trying again. But he sighed. He’d already come back here. He could just as well give it one last attempt. Who knew, maybe the next rumor he investigated was going to be a particularly funny one. That, at least, would have given him something to make Kakashi laugh whenever they saw each other in private the next time.

Iruka sank back down on the roof. He loosened his shoulders a bit and closed his eyes before focusing again. He could feel just how much chakra he’d already invested in his silly idea. He wasn’t critically low by any means, but it was never smart to deplete one’s self too much. Time was difficult to gauge in his situation, but he felt at his reserves to keep tabs on himself as expanded his hearing once more.

Nothing immediately drew his attention and he kept at it. Feeling how he was slowly and steadily expending his chakra to listen.

Still, nothing came to him. And he got the distinct impression that nothing was going to come to him at all and that this had all been a waste of time.

He wasted more chakra and realized that he’d made a valiant effort. But it was time to cut his losses and go home.

But then, just as he was about to open his eyes, he heard it.

“-Iruka-sensei. I saw it with my own eyes!”

Iruka nearly jumped in shock. He kept his eyes closed, straining to hear more, to pinpoint the location as closely as he could.

“I think they’re a good match.”

And then, he was off.

He jumped off his roof and to the next and kept going like that, sprinting above Konoha in order to make it in time. He had one goal and one goal only. He was heading to one of the training grounds. It was one of the lesser used ones, one that was surrounded by trees. He got closer and closer, sticking to roofs and – when needed – small alleys and then circled the training grounds to better control his approach, to get away from the main entrance. To conceal himself from his target while he got a look at them and planned their confrontation.

“No, I know her,” that same voice – a male voice of an average register – said as Iruka advanced through the trees. “But she’s very sick, this kind of publicity would put a strain on her.”

Iruka kept his steps light and his presence concealed as he used the trees to hide, getting closer and closer to the conversation. Until he finally saw its participants.

One was a kunoichi Iruka had seen multiple times before. Iruka liked her. She had extremely neat handwriting in her mission reports. The other person was a man in standard shinobi uniform – no alterations, no easily identifiable accessories. He was bland-looking with dark hair, maybe black or a very dark brown. No distinguishing marks or strong facial features. Average height. Average build. Neither soft features nor severe ones. Neither particularly good-looking nor particularly unpleasant. Neither friendly nor unfriendly.

A perfect middle.

Just like one of Kakashi’s disguises.

“It’s so sweet of Iruka-sensei to keep her safe,” the kunoichi said, putting her hand to her chest above her heart, clearly touched.

The bland man nodded. “Agreed.”

“Well, I need to get going. But thank you for clearing that up, I’ve been wondering about it for days.”

“Yeah, of course.”

With that the conversation came to an end. The kunoichi took off first.

The stranger took a quick look around and Iruka kept himself hidden and suppressed his own chakra as much as he could. The desperate urge to walk out of the trees to confront this person right away seized him but he kept it down along with his chakra. More than yearning for a confrontation and some kind of resolution, he needed to know who this person was and what their motives were. And because Iruka was dead certain that it had to be someone in disguise, his best option was to follow and wait for the disguise to drop.

If it wasn’t a disguise but actually just a man, he supposed he owed him a mental apology for judging his appearance so harshly.

The stranger took off. And Iruka followed.

They left the training grounds through the main entrance and Iruka observed the stranger’s gait as they did. It didn’t read as anything familiar nor as anything particularly noteworthy. The stranger then took one of the busier streets – a smart choice as, with their blandness, they were going to easily disappear in a crowd. But Iruka kept them firmly in his sights as he wove through the crowd after them.

The stranger left the main street to walk into a smaller one that branched off of it. Iruka lingered by the corner to peer after them, then followed behind once the stranger had turned another corner. Iruka continued to follow them this way for a few more adjoining streets, until he lingered around another corner as the stranger stopped in the middle of what amounted to an alleyway. They looked over their shoulder – Iruka quickly hid himself – and then raised their hand.

Iruka peered back at the stranger and recognized the sign as the dispel for a henge and-

“Iruka-sensei!”

-the stranger startled and looked his way.

“What a coincidence!” that same voice said and Iruka turned to see Masaru approaching him. He looked back at the alleyway. The stranger used a body flicker to escape. Fuck.

“What are you doing he-”

“Can’t talk,” Iruka said curtly and jumped onto the nearest roof. He listened closely and heard escaping footsteps and immediately set out to follow them, jumping between buildings. The pace they were going at indicated someone fast and fit. A shinobi with field experience. But not someone who outran Iruka in the blink of an eye.

Iruka caught sight of them again.

Interestingly enough, the stranger wasn’t headed for the center of the village with its bigger crowds, which Iruka would have done if he had been trying to lose a pursuer. Rather, they were headed to the emptier areas of town. Perhaps it was foolish of Iruka to follow to what could have been some kind of trap, but he was sick and tired of this person’s antics. He needed to know what was going on. He needed to not be a helpless victim to his circumstances.

So he kept going.

For the most part, the stranger was just running, not using any flashy ninjutsu to get away. There was a chance that they didn’t want to draw any undue attention to themselves by using too much chakra. Whatever the reason, it suited Iruka very well as it allowed him to keep up more easily.

The stranger took the rooftops for a quicker escape for a bit. Then they looked over their shoulder to see Iruka following and dropped down into an alleyway between two buildings. Iruka had to stop himself and course-correct after his momentum carried him too far to follow down onto ground level.

Using the sound of their footsteps, Iruka ran after them once more. His ears were starting to hurt and he knew he was in for a rough evening later but it was going to be worth it. He sure as hell wasn’t giving up.

The stranger ran. Iruka ran after them.

They tried to lose him in the twists and turns of different empty alleys but once again Iruka’s sense of hearing allowed him to follow without issue.

Eventually, Iruka turned a corner to see the stranger standing in a dead end. They stopped in their tracks momentarily as if using a split second to consider their options. As they then made to jump up onto the next roof Iruka used that split second of a halt to his advantage. He drew one of his flashbang-primed kunai and threw it in the air, sending it to explode above the stranger to block the roof as an escape route.

Then, Iruka drew a kunai.

The stranger turned, eyes wide.

Depending on who this was, Iruka was hopelessly outmatched. But he didn’t care. He lunged with his blade.

Seemingly on instinct, the stranger retaliated, attacking with their fist.

Iruka dodged right. Just barely.

The fist connected with the next wall.

And immediately went through it.

Pieces of rubble exploded from the impact and massive cracks appeared in the wall.

Iruka stared at it. And then it dawned on him. He slowly turned to look at the stranger.

“Sa- Sakura-chan?”

The stranger stared at the wall, their fist still lingering in the hole they had created. Then they looked at Iruka. They sighed, their mannerisms suddenly becoming familiar, and dropped the fist before they raised a hand to dispel their henge. The disguise dropped. Revealing the familiar pink-haired, red-clad appearance of Haruno Sakura. She smiled sheepishly at him.

“Hello, Iruka-sensei.”

It was then that a third person appeared in the alley. Iruka turned as he heard their approach to see someone clad in a robe and a porcelain mask.

“What the hell is going on here?”

-

“Rokudaime-sama.”

“Hm?”

“We’ve noticed a disturbance within city walls. Potentially a fight.”

Kakashi looked up from his work, alarmed. “What’s going on?”

Hare was kneeling on one knee in front of the desk, head cast down respectfully. “One of the ANBU on patrol, Crane, noticed what appeared to be a chase. Sable’s gone to investigate the situation.”

“A chase?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any more details?”

“We’re uncertain as of right now, but it appears to be one person fleeing from one pursuer.”

“Any threats or third parties?”

Hare shooks his head. “Not as far as we can tell, Rokudaime-sama.”

“And the identities of the people involved?”

At that point, Hare paused. “Crane thought he saw Iruka-sensei pursuing someone.”

Kakashi’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Iruka-sensei? Was the person he was pursuing perhaps a child? Of Academy-attending age?”

“No, sir. The report indicates another adult.”

“Right.” Kakashi sighed. Hare was kneeling right there, Kakashi had to keep calm and figure out what to do quickly. “I’ll go handle the situation.”

“Are you certain, Rokudaime-sama?”

“Maa, I can’t have our Academy instructors running around the village causing trouble. And I’d like to know what’s going on, anyway. Take me there.”

“Understood.”

They reached the site of the incident rather quickly. As Hare melted back into whatever shadow he normally resided in, Kakashi stood on a rooftop, looking down to survey the situation.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

In this small alleyway in a part of town that scarcely anyone ever visited stood his secret boyfriend, as well as the most reasonable of Kakashi’s former students and Sable. Kakashi’s boyfriend wore an expression of confusion and outrage. Sakura looked embarrassed. Sable was characteristically quiet.

But the most eye catching thing by far was the hole in the wall. The Sakura-was-here kind of hole.

“Did you just- were you trying to kill me?” Iruka demanded as he stared at the hole like a man who had just seen his life flash past his eyes.

“Of course not! I went slow so you could dodge!”

Kakashi shook his head. He dropped down into the alleyway. “Yo.”

Everyone turned to him.

“Kakashi-sensei!” Sakura exclaimed.

Iruka just stared at him with wide eyes.

Sable, of course, bowed. Annoying.

“Anyone mind telling me what is going on here? When I got the report of an Academy instructor chasing someone, I figured it had to be some kind of troublemaker. But I guess not.” He crossed his arms as he looked between them. “Report.”

Iruka stood straighter, the way one would for a superior in this situation. “I pursued Sakura-chan while she was in disguise and spreading untrue information about me. When she noticed me, she ran. I followed.”

Kakashi looked to Sakura and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true,” she admitted. “I panicked.”

Kakashi sighed. “This is the kind of chaos I’d expect from Naruto, not you two.” He looked at the hole in the wall. “And what’s with that?”

“Sakura’s self-defense,” Iruka explained.

Kakashi hummed. “Well, one of you will have to pay for that.”

Both of them deflated. But they were both also still tense. It was then that Kakashi realized that he’d never really told Iruka about Shikamaru’s suspicions that Sakura may know about them. Oh boy, that made this situation very interesting.

“Other than that, honestly, I don’t know what to tell you. Don’t do this again? Save it for a training ground?”

“To be fair,” Sakura said, leveling him a look. “You and Gai-sensei used to have all kinds of bizarre races across town.”

“Ah, true, but we’ve established that dynamic thoroughly over the course of decades. You can’t just start by chasing each other and demolishing walls. You have to start smaller than that. Besides, not everyone can be like Gai.”

Sakura didn’t seem pleased with his answer but she said nothing.

“Anyway. Since this is apparently nothing, I’ll consider this matter settled.” He turned to Sable. “Let’s do our comrades a favor and keep this one to ourselves, hm? You’re dismissed.”

Sable nodded and disappeared.

Kakashi turned to leave. He knew he couldn’t leave it at that and he had no intention to, but he had an act to uphold. He stopped in his tracks and turned back around. “It’s none of my business, but maybe to ensure the safety of the other walls in Konoha, you should talk this out in private. After work over a cup of tea or something. Naruto tells me you make good tea, sensei.”

“Oh, I suppose I do,” Iruka said, caught off-guard by the statement.

Kakashi nodded. “Anyway. Try not to destroy more property, ‘kay?”

And with that, he took off.

-

Shikamaru wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with the information that there ‘was a chase’ and that ‘Rokudaime is investigating it’, but he accepted it and continued on as if nothing had happened.

A few minutes later, said Rokudaime stood in the doorway to his office and was giving him an unreadable look.

Shikamaru looked back, expecting some kind of demand or request and when nothing came, he simply said, “yes?”

“Everything go okay in my absence?”

“You were only gone for a few minutes, Kakashi-sama. Not sure how something could have happened in that time.”

Kakashi shrugged. “Battles have been decided in less.”

“Well there weren’t any battles here.”

“There sure weren’t. What about you? Have you been gone a lot recently?”

Shikamaru blinked. So he had noticed something. Had taken him long enough. Kakashi seemed to have taken his dismissal of Shikamaru to heart somewhat and had consequentially left him alone a little more as if to give him space.

“I may have been absent a bit. You told me that was fine as long as I got my work done.”

“It is. And you are way more caught up with your workload than I am with my own and we both know that. I was simply wondering whether I was correct about you being absent more often lately. And it seems I was. Funny that.” Kakashi approached him. “Anyway. I need you to look over this.” He put a suspiciously thin folder on Shikamaru’s desk.

“Will do.”

Kakashi nodded. “Good.”

“Before you leave: We actually received word from Sai. They’re en route home. They’ll probably be back tomorrow or so.”

“Good to know. Thank you, Shikamaru-kun.”

Shikamaru nodded. He opened the file Kakashi had given him and found that it contained a single note:

‘Come to Iruka-sensei’s this evening. Your partner in crime will be there, too. Also, destroy this.’

Shikamaru gritted his teeth. This was going to be annoying.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Iruka’s determination to prevent Kakashi from self-destructing put him into a mindset of action. Of immediate intervention. But even as drive and urgency gripped his heart, he faltered.

Because he wasn’t sure what he could actually, realistically do.

Kakashi had fled their coincidental encounter almost immediately and finding him again was going to be difficult – as Iruka had discovered first-hand in the past. Kakashi being out on assignment nearly all of the time turned ‘difficult’ into ‘nearly impossible’. Iruka would have had to get a hold of him during one of his scarce and brief stays in the village. And even on the astronomically slim chance that Iruka accomplished this, he would have needed a plan of action that would have allowed him to make Kakashi see reason. Such a plan eluded him entirely. Their badly damaged relationship wasn’t exactly a good foundation for Iruka to intervene in Kakashi’s affairs, even if it was to save his life.

Iruka considered that someone else might have had a better chance at both finding and saying something that actually impacted Kakashi. But the only person Iruka had ever met that he considered to be an actual friend of Kakashi’s was Gai. There was an elusive figure named Tenzō that Kakashi had mentioned off-handedly once or twice but he had never elaborated on who this person was or where they could be found. So if Iruka wanted to involve someone in Kakashi’s circle, it was going to have to be Gai.

But knowing a number of things about Gai and his friendship with Kakashi, Iruka couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t have already tried to intervene himself. Plus, even Gai had proclaimed that finding Kakashi when he didn’t want to be found was a lost cause. So it could have taken weeks or months before he got a hold of him. The thought of so much time passing made Iruka’s heart seize up with fear. From everything he’d heard and seen, he wasn’t sure that months were something they had when it came to Kakashi’s well-being.

No, what Iruka needed – what Kakashi needed, honestly – was an immediate and effective intervention. Something that not even he could circumvent or avoid. Though one might have thought that the hospital still qualified for that, as Gai had suggested to Iruka a lifetime ago, that no longer appeared to be the case, either.

Which really only left one option.

Iruka wasn’t keen on it, in fact he dreaded taking this path. And he knew with complete and utter certainty that Kakashi was going to hate it. But it was a last resort. And if the options were either this or one day standing in the graveyard in mourning clothes, wincing each time the chisel hit the memorial stone while he pretended that wasn’t dying inside – well. The decision became pretty easy.

He could live with being hated, he supposed. If that was the price of Kakashi continuing to live as well.

So with his jaw set and his shoulders tense from an evening of pondering his options and a subsequent boost of determination, he walked into the Hokage Tower the day after he had encountered Kakashi on the street.

When he asked to meet with Godaime, he was informed of busy schedules and classified meetings and ‘really? Can’t it wait, Iruka-sensei?’ but he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and kept pestering and pushing and demanding until he found himself in Senju Tsunade’s office, standing at attention in front of her desk. She had acknowledged him with a single word as he had entered but had yet to stop glaring at the report she was looking at while he had approached. Busy, indeed.

“You better make this quick, Iruka-sensei,” she addressed him curtly without looking up. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

“Of course,” he replied, matching her sternness with his own. He had to be taken seriously. Too much hinged on this for her to simply dismiss him. “I’m here because I am concerned about the well-being of a fellow shinobi.”

She replied with a brief half-absent hum that prompted him to keep talking.

“Hokage-sama,” he said and bowed deeply. “Please put Hatake Kakashi-san on mandatory leave.”

The air seemed to still. The silence in the office was deafening. Not even Shizune made a sound. Iruka could feel sharp, analytical eyes on him as he had finally said something worthy of his Hokage’s full attention. “The brat, huh?” Tsunade replied after a moment. Her tone of voice was thoughtful and critical. “What do you have to do with him?”

“We are friends. Well, we were friends, I guess. It really doesn’t matter.” Iruka stood up straight to look her in the eyes. “The point is that I’ve recently found out a lot of things about his behavior that are deeply concerning. Specifically, how many missions he’s been taking. And how many of those seem to be extremely dangerous and exhausting.”

Tsunade was mustering him as he spoke, her documents completely forgotten in favor of observing him and listening to his claims.

“If he keeps going like this, I think- I think he might not come back one of these days.”

She narrowed her eyes. Iruka didn’t know what she was looking for as she examined him but he kept perfectly still and held her gaze once it found his again. She pursed her lips. She seemed to be on the verge of telling him to get lost. He could already hear her dismissal. Her insisting that Kakashi was fine and needed in the field. Too valuable to take a break, even a short one. But then her expression changed as she sighed deeply and the scrutiny vanished from her features. She leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I had a feeling about him.”

A surge of protective anger shot through Iruka. If she’d noticed it too, then why hadn’t she done anything yet?

“It’s hard to tell with Kakashi,” she explained as if having sensed his question without him speaking it aloud. She crossed her arms. “He’ll run three high-risk missions without suffering any injuries or exhaustion and then return from the fourth one half-dead.”

“With all due respect, Hokage-sama, I don’t think his injuries are always... visible.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Tsunade replied sharply. She clicked her tongue. “Damn. I really need him on duty.”

“Tsunade-sama...,” Shizune said quietly, clearly holding back her own opinion on the matter.

“Then you’ll run him into the ground and lose him entirely,” Iruka said sternly, riding the fierce wave of protectiveness that had brought him into the office in the first place. “He has done more than his duty at this point. If you don’t let him rest- no, if you don’t make him rest, he’ll destroy himself.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Tsunade snapped, sounding equally irritated and tired. And as Iruka saw her pained expression he realized that she was still a healer. It had slipped his mind for a moment that she had been trained to heal people, not to send them out to get hurt. She had only stepped up as Hokage because the village had needed her to. Weighing the well-being of her shinobi against the well-being of the village like grains of rice on a scale probably wasn’t easy for her either.

In fact, given the guilt that flashed over her face, she must have hated making those decisions. Resented it, maybe, that she had been sacrificing Kakashi’s health for greater causes. Even if that was what shinobi were taught to do.

“You don’t have to convince me. I don’t want him to get himself killed, either,” she added a little more calmly when he didn’t reply. “And I’m not saying I won’t pull him from duty. I’m just saying that there are missions that he is uniquely qualified for.”

Iruka frowned. He wondered whether she was referring to Kakashi’s sharingan or his general skillset or something else. But it didn’t matter. Not to Iruka, not right then. What mattered was keeping Kakashi’s name off that damn memorial stone. “I’m not asking you to put him on leave permanently-”

“And I could never do that, even if I wanted to,” Tsunade interrupted. “The village needs him, still.”

Iruka nodded. He was still frowning as he processed her words.

“He’s due to return in a few days,” Tsunade explained. “I’ll talk to him when he reports back and start him off on two weeks of leave.”

Iruka exhaled slowly. Relief overcame him in soothing currents and some of the tension his shoulders had been holding onto faded. Kakashi was going to rest. He was going to be fine. Hope was kindled in his chest, flickering brightly at the thought of Kakashi’s safety. “Thank you, Tsunade-sama.” Iruka bowed again.

Tsunade waved her hand dismissively. “Stop that. It’s not like I want to note him down as KIA.”

Iruka straightened his back once again. “I figured you might not.”

Tsunade propped her head up with one hand. She considered him for a moment. “I hope you know that he will not like this.”

Iruka grimaced. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.” She leaned both elbows on the desk and laced her fingers together. “Because if you’re expecting Kakashi to think you’re doing him a kindness, you’re wrong.”

“I know,” Iruka repeated. He paused. “There is no way you could keep my name out of this?”

Tsunade scoffed. “I’m not going to bring you up myself. But I won’t lie if he asks. I’m not getting involved in your personal drama. Whatever it is.”

Iruka’s cheeks heated and he averted his eyes. “Of course, Tsunade-sama. Thank you.”

“No need. Now that this is settled, I need to get back to work.”

Iruka could take a hint so he nodded, excused himself and left the office, feeling much lighter than he had when he had walked in.

-

The mission had been easy.

Sure, Kakashi’s left arm was practically useless at this point and he’d sustained a solid beating. But the tracking and capture of the two missing-nin had gone off nearly without a hitch. Kakashi had barely had to push himself to immobilize them both and detain them in a scroll. It had almost been a waste of his skills. When he’d been given the assignment, he had expected a far greater challenge – hoped for it, even. Two criminals with some interesting and rare jutsu – that he’d copied into his arsenal, of course – and a famous stolen skull-breaker type sword. It should have been dangerous.

But the brief had neglected to mention that the pair had only been working together for a scant few weeks and were prone to bickering. And that their teamwork – or lack thereof – had been full of easily exploitable openings. Ultimately, it had only cost Kakashi some injuries and a few well-placed moves to finish them off. Really, he could have taken a second mission in the area to go along with this one. He would have preserved his arm for that. Probably.

Although Tsunade definitely wouldn’t have given him a simultaneous assignment, so he would have had to go to the Mission Desk to bully someone into breaking the rules and Kakashi had been relatively certain that Iruka would have been on shift at that-

Iruka.

Kakashi shook his head to dispel the thought of him.

There could at least have been something interesting happening on his way back to the village, he forced himself to consider. But there wasn’t. The journey to the village was easy, giving him far too much space and time to be alone with his thoughts. Which was exactly where he didn’t want to be.

He pushed himself and returned to Konoha in record time. The sight of his arm seemed to startle the gate guards who leapt up and offered him help to get to the hospital – which was ridiculous, seeing as getting there required his legs and those were okay. Mostly.

So he ignored their probably well-intentioned offers of help and went to the Tower to report directly to Godaime. They lived in busy times for Hidden Villages, so with any luck she already had a new assignment for him ready to go. Once he’d gotten his arm fixed, at least. If not, there was always the Mission Desk although he had a feeling that he hadn’t exactly been gaining fans among the staff there in the recent weeks.

Once the Tower was within jumping distance, Kakashi leapt up onto the roof. He noticed that Godaime’s window was already open – practically in invitation – and hopped down onto the window sill. He raised his functioning hand in greeting. “Yo.”

Tsunade didn’t startle. She just turned around and glowered at him. “You’re back. Still not a fan of doors?”

“Maa, an open window just calls to me,” Kakashi explained nonchalantly as he hopped inside and walked around the desk.

Shizune gasped. “Kakashi-sensei, your arm-”

“I’ll get it fixed,” Kakashi said easily. He took two scrolls out of his flak jacket and put them on the desk. “Two missing-nin, captured alive, and one skull-breaker.”

“Well done,” Tsunade said though she didn’t sound particularly pleased. She was staring at his arm, too. Her brow was pinched and her lips were twisted into a displeased frown. “I see they gave you some trouble?”

“Not really. They were pretty easy to deal with.” Kakashi shrugged. “Anyway. Do you have a new assignment for me? After I see a medic about this, of course.” Kakashi waved his damaged arm as much as he could. Perhaps his willingness to get patched up was going to encourage Tsunade to hand over a new assignment sooner rather than later.

Tsunade’s eyes didn’t leave the arm and her frown deepened. She almost seemed saddened, which was a look on her that Kakashi definitely did not like. She then averted her gaze before closing her eyes for a moment. “Forgive me,” she muttered to herself, barely audible, as if she was talking to someone else. Then, she looked back up and met Kakashi’s eyes to address him. “There is no new mission. You’re on leave. Effective immediately.”

... Huh?

Kakashi stared at her. Silence stretched between them and he waited as the words refused to properly connect in his mind. He felt as though the floor had just dropped away beneath his feet. “What?”

“I’m putting you on leave,” she repeated. “Mandatory leave. Two weeks for now. We’ll see about more when they’re over.”

He continued to stare. “Why?”

“You need it.”

Kakashi shook his head. “The arm can be fixed in an afternoon. And I’m not even chakra-exhausted.”

“It’s not medical leave, brat.” She paused. “Not in the way you think, at least.”

“I haven’t botched any missions. I’ve delivered on every single one of them.”

“I know. That’s part of the problem, Kakashi,” Tsunade explained, her expression turning grim. “You’ve been delivering far too much and you’re burning yourself out. So you’re going to the hospital to get your arm and everything else healed. And then you’re going home. Or to a friend. Anywhere that isn’t a training ground or an assignment. And don’t even think about bullying the Mission Desk staff into giving you anything. I’ve already informed them that you’re taking a break.”

Humiliation spread through Kakashi’s body at the thought. Though it was overshadowed by the desperate anger that rose up in his chest. “What am I supposed to do here for two weeks?” he asked as evenly as he could.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you want as long as it’s not strenuous. Have a drink. Read Jiraiya’s filth. Lie in the grass and count the clouds for all I care, just don’t push yourself.”

It sounded dreadful. “You were happy to assign me this mission. What changed?”

Tsunade eyed him. “My orders changed. Do you need more than that, shinobi?”

Kakashi clenched his teeth. “No, Godaime-sama, of course not.”

Tsunade glared at him for a moment. But then her face lost its tension and her expression became softer. “Someone worries about you. Rightfully so, I should add.” She looked at his arm again. “I should have done this weeks ago.”

“Was it Gai? He worries too much.”

“No, it wasn’t Gai. Now, brat, I have a lot to do that isn’t trying to force you to keep yourself alive. Get that arm fixed. Listen to the medic-nin for once. And for the love of all that is sacred, please take a damn nap.”

Kakashi glowered at her for a moment before bowing and taking his leave. Through the door, this time. He put his hands into his pockets and walked down the hallway with his usual nonchalance, but on the inside he was boiling. At the same time, he was despairing. Didn’t Tsunade realize that this just made everything worse? He needed those missions. He needed the distractions, the adrenaline, the stress and danger. He needed something that purged his thoughts from his head and his feelings from his heart.

He was halfway to the stairs when he heard Tsunade’s office door open once more before quick footsteps followed behind him, drawing closer. The pattern of the walk and sound of the shoes on the tile floor gave away the identity of his pursuer.

“Do you need anything, Shizune-san?” he asked when she was close enough. He kept walking as he spoke. “Does Godaime want me under house arrest to make sure I don’t do anything ‘strenuous’?

“No, Kakashi-sensei,” Shizune replied in a neutral tone as she caught up to him and started walking beside him. “I just thought you should know: Iruka-sensei was the one who talked to Tsunade-sama about your well-being.”

Kakashi blinked. Something twisted painfully in his chest and he stopped in his tracks. “Iruka-sensei asked her to put me on leave?”

“Yes. I think he was really worried,” Shizune explained as she stopped beside him.

“Was he,” Kakashi said in disbelief.

Shizune nodded. She hesitated for a moment before she kept talking. “He had good intentions, Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi just hummed. “Right. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Shizune smiled.

Kakashi turned and kept walking as Shizune made her way back to the office.

Iruka. Iruka had done this. Kakashi’s mind got stuck on it. Why? Why would Iruka have done something like this to him? Shizune had said it had been worry and good intentions. So had Tsunade. But why would Iruka have worried about him after everything?

Kakashi glared at the ground.

Though honestly, it probably had been some strange kind of worry. Iruka was like that. Maybe he had thought he was saving Kakashi or something. He’d saved his life once before, after all. But that time, Kakashi had been on the brink of death and Iruka had happened to run into him. He’d done what any shinobi was supposed to do for a comrade: Provide first aid.

What most shinobi didn’t do and also weren’t supposed to do was go to their commander in chief and demand things about another shinobi’s work or duty.

It was humiliating to have Iruka and Tsunade discussing him behind his back like that. As if he was a child, unfit to make his own decisions or to know what was best for him. As if it was somehow better and safer if they made choices about his life without consulting him. He respected that it was Tsunade’s job to make such decisions for her shinobi. To an extent, at least.

But it wasn’t Iruka’s.

Beyond the mortification, there was something more. But Kakashi had a difficult time understanding what it was. Anger? Indignation? Or perhaps another feeling, something that definitely didn’t hate the idea of Iruka caring for him like this.

If that was the case, that part of Kakashi was wrong. Iruka had no right to meddle in his affairs. Much less to go directly to Kakashi’s superior to do it. He couldn’t do as he pleased simply because he thought he knew what was best for Kakashi better than he knew that himself.

Even if imagining Iruka still caring about him was sweet and comforting. A possibility that Kakashi hadn’t allowed himself to consider ever since their friendship had gone up in flames.

Kakashi meandered over to the hospital as he had been told to and went inside. He didn’t have to say a single word to receive treatment. The person at the front desk took one wide-eyed, grimacing look at his bloody, broken arm and told him to follow her immediately. He trailed behind her without complaint.

His mind kept going. No matter if it had been care or not, Iruka couldn’t just do this to him. They weren’t talking, so why was it that he thought he could make decisions like that? How was Kakasi ever supposed to disentangle himself from his attachment to Iruka if he was forced to stay in the village for weeks?

While that grating thought churned in his mind, Kakashi got his arm fixed – even the medic-nin he was brought to winced upon seeing it. Once that was done, Kakashi let them heal his other, minor injuries without complaint, going so far as to point out a few less visible things. If only to show Tsunade that he didn’t need to be on leave and that he could head back out into the field without hesitation. He had no doubts that the medics were going to report on how well he had cooperated back to her.

He left the hospital with strict instructions to let his arm rest and come back in for a checkup the next day. The medic-nin had seemed concerned as if she expected him to need further healing. He supposed he was going to subject himself to that, too.

As things were, he stood in front of the hospital with residual pain in his arm and absolutely nothing on his schedule.

Iruka came back to mind and Kakashi clenched the fist of his uninjured arm. His conflicted emotions subsided as he thought things over once more, giving rise to one that was dominating the rest: Anger. Kakashi hated being stuck in the village. He had no use or purpose here, especially since things with Iruka lay in shambles. And now he had no means of escape. Who knew, perhaps he was going to have to see Iruka and his new lover around town now. Something he’d managed to avoid so far.

Without another second to consider, Kakashi took off toward the Academy.

It wasn’t Iruka’s fault that they had broken apart the way they had. But Iruka had no right to take the one thing that Kakashi still had in his life away. It was cruel. And entitled, somehow. And it made Kakashi angry in a way he rarely ever was.

When he arrived, he didn’t climb up into the tree or scale the building to linger by the window. No, this time, he entered the Academy building itself. A teacher who was visibly very surprised to see him asked him why he was there and he lied about being there to help with a demonstration. She nodded – there was no reason to distrust a fellow shinobi, after all – and let him go. He made his way to Iruka’s classroom.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t listen on the door. He simply opened it.

The heads of 27 school kids immediately turned around to stare at him. And one startled Iruka whipped around as well. Kakashi ignored the former to focus on the latter.

He remained in the doorway because he had no intention to get any closer than he needed to be for this. “We need to talk,” he said curtly and without preamble. If Iruka had done this to him, then he damn well knew what Kakashi wanted to talk about.

Iruka’s expression went from surprise to bewilderment and then straight to anger. “I’m in the middle of teaching a class, Kakashi-san,” he pointed out, trying to keep his voice level but failing as the roiling undercurrent of rage came through in each word. “So I’m afraid it will have to wait.”

“It won’t take long,” Kakashi replied.

Iruka was glaring now. “The answer is still ‘no’, Kakashi-san. You know when school lets out. We can talk then.”

Kakashi grew tense. Was this how the other jōnin felt when they complained about Iruka’s supposed insubordination? He wanted to snap at Iruka  – which was something he almost never did – but then he noticed that the kids were still gawking at the exchange between them. Not feeling like causing more of a scene in front of them, and deep down knowing that Iruka wasn’t going to back down no matter what Kakashi said, he relented. “Fine. It’s not like I won’t be around.”

Iruka clearly understood what he had meant as his eyes briefly showed a flash of hurt before it was overshadowed by even more anger. “Go. Now.”

Kakashi closed the door.

With nothing else to focus on but his simmering anger and restlessness, Kakashi waited outside the Academy. The final bell rang and mere moments later, a horde of kids emerged from the building, chattering and excited and running past where Kakashi had tucked himself away in a shadow. Soon after, the staff members began to trickle out as well, most of them in pairs or small groups. However, Iruka didn’t make an appearance.

Whether intentionally or not, he was making Kakashi wait and stew in his own miserable feelings.

But eventually, the front doors of the Academy opened once more and Iruka walked out. He turned around to lock up after himself and Kakashi abandoned his hiding spot.

As Iruka approached, he clearly noticed him, but he walked right past him, not stopping as he spoke up and said, “I won’t talk out here. Meet me at my place.”

Kakashi grew tense at the strict tone and didn’t reply, but he leapt up onto a nearby roof to take a different route to Iruka’s home. Apparently, his route was the faster one as he had to wait for quite a bit on a nearby branch before Iruka finally showed up. Again, whether the delay had been deliberate or not, Kakashi didn’t know. But it did nothing to quell his wild emotions.

Iruka walked up to his front door without acknowledging Kakashi’s presence even if Kakashi had no doubt that he was aware of it. He unlocked the door unhurriedly, disappeared into the building and, a few moments later, opened one of the windows to his living room.

Kakashi made his way inside without a sound. He closed the window behind himself and took in his surroundings.

Not much had changed. Kakashi hadn’t expected it to. But while there was still familiarity here and while longing rose up within Kakashi at the sight, the space felt different than it had before. Colder. A jarring juxtaposition to the haven it had been not too long ago.

“Take your shoes off,” Iruka commanded. He was standing a few paces away, arms crossed and wearing a deep frown on his face.

Wordlessly, Kakashi obeyed the command. His tidy strain demanded nothing else. When he returned from placing his shoes by the front door, Iruka was glaring daggers at him.

“What the hell were you thinking, barging into my classroom like that?!”

Kakashi put his hands into his pockets, trying to act casual. In control. Even when he felt anything but. “I was thinking that I had to talk to you.”

“Without warning? In the middle of a lesson? Right in front of my students?” Iruka demanded.

“Right. Stupid of me. I guess I will take it up directly with your superior next time. Since that’s how we’re doing things now.”

Iruka’s frown deepened. “I get that you have a problem with me, and I’m pretty sure I know why, but you do not get to bring that into my classroom!”

“You’re awfully certain about what I do and don’t get to do.”

“When it comes to my students and my workplace? Yes!”

“Ah, but it’s not just your workplace that falls under your jurisdiction now, is it?”

Iruka groaned. “It’s impossible to talk to you like this.”

“Mh. Is that why you decided to go and talk to someone else?”

“For the love of-” Iruka shook his head. “If all you’re going to do is make passive aggressive comments, we’re not having this conversation.”

Kakashi eyed him. “So you get to decide that for me, too?”

“I’m willing to talk about this,” Iruka said, not rising to the bait. “I understand why you want to. And I want that, too. But if you don’t actually want to talk and all you want to do is throw thinly veiled insults my way, then- then, I guess you might as well leave and go back to pretending I don’t exist.”

Iruka’s voice faltered on the tail-end of his admonishment, betraying some genuine hurt. It stung and it made some of Kakashi’s anger peter out. For all that he was mad at Iruka, the thought of actually hurting him still felt like an unforgivable crime. “Fine,” Kakashi agreed. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, unsure of what to say. “You went to Godaime behind my back.”

“I did.”

“Why.”

Iruka’s expression did something complicated. He averted his eyes and his fingers dug into his sleeves as he clung to himself a little. “I heard how many missions you were taking. It didn’t seem healthy.”

“Maa, so you’re a medic-nin now?”

Iruka tensed. He looked back at Kakashi with angry eyes. “It doesn’t take a medic-nin to see that you’re burning yourself out! Someone had to do something.”

“Even if that were true-”

“It absolutely is!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Kakashi insisted. “Going to Godaime and making her-”

“You think I can make her do something like that?” Iruka shook his head. “You think anyone can make her do anything? She agreed that it was for the best. She honestly seemed like she’d thought about it before.”

“It still wasn’t up to you to go to her,” Kakashi reiterated.

Iruka bit his lip. He looked at the ground. “Maybe not,” he agreed.

Kakashi remained silent, unsure of how to handle the sudden, unexpected agreement. It took some of the wind out of his sails.

“But someone had to. And no one else was doing anything as far as I know. Everyone else seemed happy to let you run yourself ragged just so that they didn’t have to go on shitty missions,” Iruka said and his voice was acidic.

“Which is fine.”

“It’s not fine!”

“I can make my own decisions,” Kakashi said. “If they pertain to my work that’s between my superiors and me.”

“So what?” Iruka looked back at him. “You want me to just sit by and watch you destroy yourself?”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows. Iruka sounded so raw suddenly. Drained and tired.

“You want me to- to what? To pretend that it doesn’t matter to me if you get hurt? If you forget to care for yourself?”

Kakashi worked his mouth but no words came out.

“You expect me to just be fine when they tell us you died out there?!” Iruka’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “You can’t ask that of me!”

“Iruka-”

“No. You don’t understand, Kakashi. I know we’re not friends anymore. I won’t ask you to be. And I won’t ask you to talk to me or to meet with me. But you can’t just expect me to stop caring about you.”

Kakashi stared at him. He had thought Iruka was going to yell at him and eventually show him the door. He hadn’t expected... this. Whatever it was.

“You’re right, you know. You’re not part of my life, anymore. And I’m not part of yours. It’s none of my business what you do now. Or how you do it. But- Fuck, Kakashi, I can’t just turn off all my emotions when I hear that you’re destroying yourself with your work.” Iruka sobbed. “I’m sorry that what I did upset you so much. But I won’t apologize for my intentions. I won’t apologize for trying to keep you from...” He didn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t have to.

Kakashi looked at the ground. He felt horrible. Like the smallest and most pathetic creature in the world. Of course, Iruka wasn’t some entitled antagonist who thought he had authority over others. Of course he’d just been well-meaning and caring and desperate to help and protect. That was who Iruka was. Who he always had been. And now that Kakashi was confronted with that fact – and his own stupidity, really – he realized that he didn’t even know why he was here. What he had hoped to gain from confronting Iruka like this.

“Will you say something?” Iruka asked, his voice almost pleading. “Anything?”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” Kakashi admitted. Whatever vitriol had brought him to Iruka’s classroom before, it had disappeared completely. What he was left with was an unsettling helplessness. Helpless to comfort Iruka. Helpless to go anywhere from where they were.

Iruka fell silent for a moment after that and Kakashi wondered whether that was his cue to get out of there, even if tearing himself away felt less likely than moving mountains with one’s bare hands. But before he could will himself toward the exit, Iruka picked the thread back up and continued for both of them. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

Kakashi winced. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Iruka paused. “Yeah, I guess you could.”

Kakashi hesitated. There was no protocol or procedure to stick to in a conversation like this. Nothing that made it any easier. He didn’t have guidelines or experience to fall back on. But he truly, really didn’t want to leave. So he had figure it out and talk. “I tried. But you didn’t seem- you didn’t really like it, I guess.”

Iruka averted his eyes.

“So I asked you. Whether things could still work. When you said you didn’t know, it sounded like a ‘no’. If you had asked me to stick around, I would have.”

“I know that,” Iruka said quietly, guiltily. “But I had to be honest.”

Kakashi remained quiet for a moment. “Yeah. You did.”

Iruka hesitated. “Could it change?”

Kakashi looked back at him. “Could what change?”

“My answer.”

Kakashi blinked. His heart beat loudly in his chest. “What would it have changed to?”

Iruka glanced at him. “I still don’t know whether things can work... but I want them to.”

Kakashi’s gaze softened. But he didn’t know whether ‘wanting’ was enough. If it had been, surely they wouldn’t have fallen apart in the first place.

“You’re one of the most important people to me,” Iruka added. “Still. In spite of everything. And it feels so stupid somehow that we’re avoiding each other like the plague when just weeks ago-” He faltered. “All I really know for sure is that I miss you.”

Kakashi looked down. “I was awful to you.”

“You tried when I didn’t,” Iruka said gently.

“That’s not what I mean,” Kakashi pointed out. “I mean before. That night. When you asked me to stay and I said no. I was awful to you.”

“I don’t know that you were. You set a boundary. I just reacted like a jackass.”

When Kakashi found it in him to turn his gaze back to Iruka, he saw shame written across his features. Something that should never be there. “You don’t have to be kind about this. I wasn’t.”

“Even so,” Iruka said, “I was being unfair to you. I asked you to say over and you said no. That should have been that. But I got so angry at you. You had every right to be upset with me. To feel pressured. Or like I was asking for things you never offered.”

“I wasn’t upset with you,” Kakashi said, easily for once. “Not ever. Not until today.”

“Oh,” Iruka said.

“I should have given you a better answer then. And I wanted to make things right afterwards,” Kakashi admitted. “But you were... I don’t know.”

“Distant?” Iruka offered.

Kakashi nodded.

Iruka fell silent for a long moment. The ticking of the living room clock was loud between them. Outside, a light summer breeze carried some errant petals past the windows as the sun was beginning to set.

“I want things to work,” Iruka reiterated out of nowhere. “But they never will if I’m not honest with you.”

“Honest?” Kakashi asked. Between everything, the one thing he had never doubted was the authenticity of Iruka’s feelings or words.

“Yes,” Iruka replied. He wasn’t meeting Kakashi’s gaze and his shoulders were drawn up. “It’s something that- that I think you might already know, but we’ve never talked about it.”

“What is it?”

Iruka took a breath as if to bolster his own resolve. “Whenever you left in the night, it hurt me. More than it should have. And when you completely rejected the idea of it, I was- I felt crushed.”

Sensing that he wasn’t done, Kakashi remained quiet even if his heart clenched painfully at the reminder of how much grief he had caused Iruka already.

“What I didn’t realize at the time was that- Well, I think I was always hoping that you were eventually going to come around to the idea. That, you know, someday you were going to start spending the night. Maybe even stay the next day or something. But you were so direct and insistent about rejecting it and I only then realized that it was never going to happen.”

Kakashi frowned. “I’m sorry if I misled you-”

“You didn’t,” Iruka clarified. “You didn’t say or even imply anything like that. I made it all up!” He sobbed. “It’s what I wanted to happen. Nothing you ever suggested was going to happen. It wasn’t fair to you to expect that. But I missed you terribly whenever you left. And I kept wondering what it would be like to wake up next to you.”

Kakashi’s face heated at the thought. But he couldn’t get his mouth to work to formulate a reply. Not when Iruka was voicing one of Kakashi’s own wants. One that he had been trying to suffocate for as long as it had been alive in his heart.

“It’s almost pathetic,” Iruka kept talking, “how much I craved that. I had this perfect little dream all thought out. You were going to spend the night, wake up with me and we’d have a lazy morning together that would turn into another whole day. And it was all going to be perfectly comfortable and romantic. That’s what I wanted. Pretty embarrassing, huh?”

Iruka’s face was red and he was sniffling and Kakashi was still desperate to be able to talk again.

“I guess when you made it clear that none of that was ever going to happen, I started second-guessing everything. I didn’t know how to talk to you anymore, even though nothing was supposed to change. For me, it changed everything,” Iruka explained.

Kakashi frowned, still unsure of what to say or how to say it. While he had been aware that his leaving had hurt Iruka, he hadn’t expected the hurt to be quite this deep or desperate.

“But I think,” Iruka kept talking, “I think I can be fine with that. I just... want to see you again. In whatever capacity you’re comfortable with.”

Kakashi wanted that, too. As he found a glimmer of hope in Iruka’s eyes, more than anything, he wanted to mend their relationship. But everything was out of balance. Kakashi knew what his heart yearned for, but it still felt so utterly unattainable. And there was still the image of Iruka at the bar, meeting someone else, someone probably better-suited for him. “I don’t know if that can happen,” he whispered and it tasted like defeat.

Iruka’s hopeful expression fell away. “I see.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Kakashi blurted out because the threat of fresh tears in Iruka’s eyes was more than he could bear. “It’s-”

“-that you can’t?” Iruka guessed. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

He had. When Kakashi had lied to him back then. When he had started this whole mess. Kakashi swallowed. Iruka had given him honesty and he deserved nothing less than the same. Even if laying himself bare like that felt like a type of death to Kakashi. One of humiliation and shame and vulnerability. “I don’t know if I can go back to what we had.”

“Why not?” Iruka asked.

“Because I want-” His voice died before he could finish. He couldn’t bring himself to keep speaking. Because knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. The things Iruka had talked about, the things Kakashi craved, he couldn’t have them. They weren’t for him. He couldn’t speak them and make them real and burden Iruka with knowing the truth, no matter how much honesty he deserved. He had to leave. He had to get out of there and protect Iruka and protect himself and-

“What do you want?” Iruka encouraged softly, gentle words tearing through the spiral of Kakashi’s impending panic. He took a step closer. No longer were his arms crossed like a shield. They reached out, softly, imploring and asking.

“I-”

“You can tell me, Kakashi, it’s okay.”

Kakashi shook his head. He backed away, feeling small and terrified. Like a cornered animal. “I can’t. I can’t make you deal with that.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” Iruka reminded gently as he approached. He must have seen Kakashi’s rising panic because his voice became soothing. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re not making me deal with anything. I am choosing to listen to you. You can’t make me do anything. Please just tell me: What do you want?”

“I want to wake up next to you,” Kakashi confessed. It was like an explosion in his chest. He felt breathless, out of air. He immediately pressed his lips together as regret shot through him.

Iruka was staring at him as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “You do? But you said-”

“I lied.”

Iruka didn’t look offended or upset. He was looking at Kakashi openly, curiously, giving him space and time to find the words that he needed to speak. It took Kakashi moments, maybe minutes until he found them as well as the courage to bring them forth and make them real.

Kakashi looked away. “I want to sleep beside you. And to wake up with you. And if there’s time, to stay longer.” He swallowed. “I’d love to cook you breakfast. I’d love to stay the whole day if I have it.”

“Then do it,” Iruka said, his voice still gentle but also warm and soft and inviting.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Kakashi still didn’t meet Iruka’s eyes. “Because I’m not good at any of that. Because you’ll get hurt. Or worse. And I can’t let it- I can’t let it come to that. Not when it’s you.” His voice kept climbing higher in pitch as the frantic nature of his thoughts forced itself into his words.

Iruka furrowed his brow. “We’ve been over this, Kakashi. You’re not cursed. You’re not some ill omen.”

“You don’t understand,” Kakashi insisted.

“I do, Kakashi.” Iruka took another step closer, until he was right in front of him. He reached up with both of his hands and gently cupped Kakashi’s face, thumbs stroking over his masked cheeks. “I understand. You must have lost so many people. And it must have been so terrifying and so very lonely. But I want to be beside you just like you want to be beside me. You can have that. You can have me.”

Kakashi finally looked into his eyes. “I could be your death sentence.”

“But you won’t be,” Iruka said firmly. “I won’t let you be. And you won’t yourself be, either.” Iruka looked at him. “I’ve missed you so much. And I want you so desperately, Kakashi. In all the ways you want me, too. Won’t you let both of us have that?”

“I don’t know how. I’m not made for this sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing?”

“Gentleness. Romance. Any of it. I’m not made for that. I’m made to be a shinobi. That’s all I’m good at.”

Iruka shook his head. “Shinobi aren’t taught to romance someone with homecooked meals. Or to pay for someone’s groceries. Or to lend them cookbooks.”

Kakashi didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. You’re not just a shinobi. You’re human. Please, let me help you feel like it,” Iruka pleaded. “Let me help you feel human.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that.”

Iruka smiled. “I don’t have to. I want to.”

Kakashi said nothing and Iruka gently urged him forward until their foreheads were pressed together, metal shield clanking against metal shield. They were so close, Kakashi could have counted Iruka’s eyelashes. He felt each of his breaths, the sensation lightly dulled by the fabric of his mask.

“What we had is far too precious for me to just give up. You are far too precious for me to give up. I’m sorry that I almost did,” Iruka said quietly.

“I’m sorry, too,” Kakashi replied honestly as he felt his left eye stinging with tears. “And I think- I think I’d like to try. This.”

Iruka’s entire face lit up and a tear rolled down his cheek. “If you’d let me,” he whispered into the limited space between them, “I’d really like to kiss you again.”

Kakashi stared at him for a long moment. He leaned back to be able to observe Iruka better. Only to find Iruka’s emotions bright and vibrant and easy to read. Longing. Desire. Affection.

Iruka was out there, again, in the light, showing himself and all his colors for Kakashi to see. Being brave for both of them where Kakashi was afraid.

Perhaps it was time to take a step out there, into the light. To be with Iruka. To stop hiding.

Without taking his eyes off of Iruka, Kakashi reached up to remove his forehead protector. He shoved it into a pocket. Then, with a lightly trembling hand, he hooked one finger over the edge of his mask. Iruka’s eyes widened as they followed the movement. And without letting another moment pass, Kakashi pulled the mask down to pool around his neck. Showing that part of himself to Iruka for the first time. He felt vulnerable without his mask covering his features. But also, perhaps, a little more human.

Iruka’s face flushed bright red as he beheld Kakashi’s whole face for the first time. His hands came back up to hover beside Kakashi’s cheeks, not touching, moving slowly as if to give Kakashi time to shy away. But he didn’t.

“Damn,” Iruka whispered as his fingers brushed over Kakashi’s freshly exposed skin. “You’re gorgeous.”

Kakashi felt his cheeks heat. A blush that was now completely visible to Iruka as well.

“Thank you for letting me see you,” Iruka said earnestly, finding Kakashi’s eyes with his own again.

“I think you’ve been seeing me for quite a while. More than anyone else, at least.”

Iruka smiled. And without further ado, he pulled Kakashi close until their lips met for a gentle kiss.

Kakashi felt as if something that had always been amiss finally slotted into place. As a riot of emotions unfurled in his chest, reaching out into every part of him and filling him with that warmth he’d thought he’d lost forever.

And that night, for the first time in his life, Kakashi fell asleep next to a lover. And he had never slept better before.

Chapter Text

Present day

Iruka was mortified.

Not only had he chased one of his former students through the streets like a maniac and had almost gotten his lights punched out because of it, but he’d been scolded by Kakashi for the whole ordeal. Kakashi.

It felt like a great karmic upset that Iruka had been scolded by Kakashi of all people.

“I’ll pay for it,” Sakura said as she eyed the wall she’d put her fist through. She had apologized a multiple times since Kakashi had left a few minutes ago.

“Let me contribute,” Iruka said as he looked at the damage. “We could split the costs.”

“You didn’t punch the wall, sensei,” Sakura pointed out.

“Maybe not but this is hardly all your fault.”

Sakura hummed. “Fine, alright. I’ll handle it and you can pay me back half.”

Iruka nodded. He hesitated. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did, though. Kakashi-sama is right, we should talk about it. I want to know what you have to say for yourself.”

“Of course,” Sakura agreed easily. “I have to get back to the hospital soon but I could come by this evening after work?”

“Sounds good to me.”

That’s how Iruka found himself in his apartment that evening, tidying up. He was more than a little curious to learn Sakura’s motives, but he also couldn’t help but feel anxious. Discussing the rumors and the things attached to them touched on sensitive subjects. The kind that Iruka still needed to keep hidden. He was going to have to tread very carefully to make sure that the conversation didn’t go anywhere where he didn’t want it to go.

He’d just cleared some paperwork off the table when he heard someone knocking on his window pane.

Iruka froze. There was only one person in his life who announced himself like that. But there was no way that he was going to be visiting that night. Or, at least, Iruka really couldn’t imagine him risking it right then.

Warily, Iruka turned around. The reflection of the window made it a bit difficult to see but there was definitely a woman perched outside on his window sill. She looked wholly unfamiliar and bland in an indescribable way. Iruka drew closer to the window and only when he stood right in front of it was he able to spot the little beauty mark that sat on her chin. She was looking at him expectantly.

Iruka recovered from his surprise and opened the window.

The woman climbed inside without a word and Iruka shut it behind her and closed the curtains. By the time he’d turned around to face his guest, she had already dropped the henge, revealing Kakashi to be standing in Iruka’s living room, taking off his shoes.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said.

Kakashi turned around with a soft smile. “Hello, Iruka.”

“You’re here.”

Kakashi nodded. “I am.”

Longing surged through Iruka, putting him on the verge of tears. They’d seen each other hours before but they hadn’t seen each other in over a week. Reasons and explanations for Kakashi’s presence could wait. Iruka threw himself at him and Kakashi caught him easily and with a chuckle. He buried his face in the side of Iruka’s neck as he pulled him close. “I’m home.”

“Welcome home,” Iruka muttered before taking a deep breath to inhale the familiar scent of his boyfriend. It allowed a soothing wave of calm to wash over his frayed nerves. “I missed you,” Iruka admitted and held onto him a little more tightly. “I know it’s silly, it’s only been a week or so-”

“I missed you, too,” Kakashi replied and Iruka leaned back so he could look into his eyes. The air crackled between them as their gazes met and Iruka reached out, slipped a finger under Kakashi’s mask and exposed his face to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

Kakashi returned the kiss with fervor, igniting something in Iruka’s chest and making him desperate for more. They traded kissed for a bit, clinging to each other all the while until Iruka broke away when his common sense began to force itself back into his mind, demanding that he investigate the questions that still lingered in his head.

“Why are you here?” Iruka asked as he took a step away to readjust his clothing. “I mean- Don’t you think it’s too risky?”

Kakashi hummed. “I figured that with those rumors around, I could risk it with a fitting disguise. From everything I’ve heard, none of the rumors have gotten anywhere close to the truth. They’re a good cover, if nothing else.”

Iruka wondered about that. However, as happy as he was to finally have his boyfriend in his home again, he mentally bemoaned Kakashi’s timing. “I really want you here, but you picked the worst night to come visit.”

“Hm?”

“Sakura-chan is going to be here in a few minutes. You could stay I guess but I doubt that it’s going to be a lot of fun hiding out in my bedroom until she leaves.”

Kakashi looked bewildered for a moment before something like understanding seemed to dawn on him. “Actually, that’s alright. I absolutely intend to participate in your conversation.”

Iruka stared at him, failing to properly comprehend Kakashi’s meaning. “So you just want to... to tell her? About us?”

“Actually,” Kakashi paused. He looked aside and scratched the back of his head.

“Actually what?”

“Actually,” Kakashi repeated. “I’m pretty sure she already knows.”

Iruka gaped at him. “She what?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” Kakashi said sheepishly.

“She knows?! And you knew that she knows?!”

“Well, I don’t actually know for sure,” Kakashi explained. “Shikamaru-kun is pretty certain though, and I’m willing to put my trust in him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Iruka demanded.

Kakashi wasn’t meeting his eyes. “It may have slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?! Kakashi-”

“I only learned about it fairly recently and there were a lot of things going on, so I honestly forgot to mention it. And Shikamaru-kun wasn’t entirely certain, so- Oh. I asked him to join us, by the way. Since Sakura-chan was involved, and they’ve talked, I doubt that he’s innocent in all this,” Kakashi explained.

Iruka closed his eyes and breathed deeply to get through the annoyance without an outburst. Kakashi had a lot on his plate all day everyday. If anyone had an excuse for forgetting to mention something, it was probably him. “I really wish you would have told me about Sakura-chan sooner,” he said honestly and opened his eyes again. “That could have saved me a whole lot of trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said and looked at him. “I didn’t really think that she had anything to do with this. The rumors were causing you so much grief, I couldn’t imagine her participating in something that hurt you so much. Though I think I understand her motives now.”

“That makes sense.” Iruka hesitated. “You know, I actually thought it might have been you. Briefly.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows. “Me? Why?”

“I followed some leads to try to get to the bottom of things and they all led to the same description: A bland, nondescript shinobi no one could remember properly.”

“Ouch.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Not you. Well. Yes you, but not using your face. You’re extremely good at making disguises like that. It made sense. Plus...”

“Plus?”

“Some of the rumors are so fanciful, they sound like something straight out of a trashy romance novel.”

Kakashi made an overly theatrical fake gasp. “You think Sakura-chan has been infringing on Icha Icha?”

“Maybe not Icha Icha specifically. But something like it.” Iruka paused. “For instance, one story claims that I’m secretly romancing a woman from the daimyō’s court. Which one depends on whom you ask. But needless to say, a romance with a common Konoha shinobi is not appropriate for a lady of noble blood and good standing. So we have to keep it a secret in order to protect our love.”

Kakashi put a hand to his chin. “I like it. When can I read it?”

Iruka hit Kakashi’s arm, but he couldn’t help but smile in amusement. “Never. Besides, I highly doubt I’m the kind of dashing hero that Jiraiya-sama had in mind while writing.”

“Well, you’re the dashing hero in my book. If that counts for anything.”

Iruka grinned. “It does. It counts for a lot.”

He leaned in to steal another kiss but was stopped when his doorbell rang. Iruka sighed. “Guess it’s time to talk about this.”

Kakashi nodded. “I’m ready.”

-

Shikamaru stood behind Sakura as she rang the doorbell of their old Academy teacher’s apartment. He was feeling fifteen different kinds of out of place. He’d figured it was eventually going to come to this. He’d warned Sakura of it, too. That they were going to be discovered eventually. So it wasn’t as if he was surprised. But he could still imagine many, many things that would have been more pleasant than what was about to happen.

The door opened.

“Sakura-chan, hello- Oh, Shikamaru-kun. I didn’t expect you to arrive together.”

He hadn’t expected them together. But he had expected Shikamaru overall. So Kakashi had informed him, then, and was presumably already inside. At least that meant they could skip the awkward waiting period that Shikamaru had anticipated them to have to endure. Small mercies.

Iruka let them in. They took off their shoes after exchanging greetings and stepped further into Iruka’s home. It was a pretty comfortable looking space as far as Shikamaru could tell. They arrived at the living room where Kakashi was already sitting on a cushion by the table. His forearms were resting on the surface and his expression was entirely unreadable as he looked up.

“Kakashi-sensei, good evening,” Sakura said with a smile. Somehow, she was far better than Shikamaru at pretending that this wasn’t weird as hell.

“Evening,” Shikamaru muttered as Sakura and him sat down at the table.

“Hello, you two,” Kakashi greeted. His expression and posture were completely calm and collected. Shikamaru had no doubts that he was secretly anything but. From everything he’d learned about the man so far, he didn’t exactly seem enjoy complicated social situations. And this definitely qualified.

Iruka joined them at the table with a tray carrying four mugs and a tea pot. He hesitated for a brief moment before sitting down beside Kakashi – really the only reasonable spot for him to take – and distributed the mugs before pouring everyone some tea. Then he sat back on the cushion and looked between Sakura and Shikamaru for a moment.

Shikamaru observed that he and Kakashi kept a careful distance between them. More than was necessary, more than most friends would have maintained. Iruka’s posture was stiff and rigid and Kakashi looked deceptively bored while not quite getting rid of the subtle tension in his muscles. If Shikamaru hadn’t known the truth, he would have thought that the two of them made each other deeply uncomfortable.

“Alright,” Iruka said while his shoulders were still trying to climb up to his ears. “Let’s cut to the chase: What the hell is going on? What did the two of you do? And why?” He looked between Sakura and Shikamaru. His voice had become stern and authoritative. It almost gave Shikamaru whiplash to see how easily he’d gone from awkward and uncertain back to the strict, in-control teacher that had scolded him several times for slacking off in class years ago.

Sakura glanced over and Shikamaru glanced back. For all that they had known this was coming, they hadn’t really planned this part out. It had seemed unnecessary to prepare arguments or talking points when they had agreed that they were simply going to be completely honest about their actions and their motives. It wasn’t as if they had any reasons to lie.

“Right, okay,” Sakura said, charging into verbal action. Shikamaru wouldn’t have minded leaving it all to her. Though he knew she wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “We’ll tell you everything. But before we do that, I just want you to know that we were only trying to help. And I think we did pretty well.”

“You certainly did something,” Kakashi quipped.

Shikamaru shrugged. “You couldn’t do anything, so we did.”

“The full story, please?” Iruka asked.

Sakura looked over again.

“Fine,” Shikamaru said with a sigh. “Remember when you handed me that note for Kakashi-sama a few days ago? It was pretty clear that something was going on but Kakashi-sama refused tell me anything or to let me help. Not that it mattered because I overheard some gossip in the Tower about you being caught on a secret date pretty much right after. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. I didn’t get the full story, so I decided to go to a confidante.”

“He met up with me,” Sakura took over. “Nurses are huge, terrible gossips, so of course I had already heard about it by then. We compared notes. We knew that things could turn out bad and we had to keep an eye on the situation.”

“You didn’t,” Kakashi cut in. “It wasn’t your obligation to do anything about it.”

“Maybe not,” Sakura countered with a frown. “But you’re both very dear to me. Do you think I can just do nothing while people start talking about you?”

“Please just explain what happened,” Iruka said. “Whether you should have or not doesn’t really matter at this point.”

“Right. We agreed that we had to intervene before more sensitive information got out,” Shikamaru explained. “But we needed to find out whether we already had the full picture or whether he were missing details. Before making any moves, we decided to investigate further and reconvene.”

“That’s how Ino got involved,” Sakura pointed out.

Iruka’s eyes widened. “Ino?”

Sakura nodded. “One of the nurses mentioned her. And, well, it was gossip so of course she was involved. I figured ‘why not get the story straight from the source?’ and went over to her place after work.”

“You visited Ino? That night?” Iruka asked and even Kakashi quirked an eyebrow at how invested he seemed to be in that part of the story.

Shikamaru eyed his former teacher. “Is that a problem?”

Iruka’s gaze flickered over to Kakashi for a moment before looking back at Sakura and Shikamaru. Then he said, very unconvincingly, “not at all. Keep going.”

Sakura hesitated for a moment, but when Iruka said nothing else she kept talking. “I was ready to go to Ino and make up some big story about why I was visiting her. But I didn’t have to. As soon as she opened the door, I could tell that something was off. Ino was super upset. She said she’d passed on information about someone but that it had been a mistake. That she wanted to take it back but couldn’t.”

Kakashi hummed. “No points for guessing whom she was talking about, I suppose.”

“She didn’t say that it was Iruka-sensei but yeah, it was pretty obvious. What was weird was that when I tried to pry, she wouldn’t give out any more information. None. She’s normally happy to share.”

“I’ve noticed,” Iruka replied drily.

“I don’t think she knows the truth,” Sakura continued. “At least not the full extent. But she must have figured out something because she looked so guilty. That made me realize that she’d probably be willing to help us out. So I told her that I knew whom she was so upset over and that I had an idea to fix things.”

“But you didn’t tell her anything else,” Kakashi assessed.

Sakura glared at him a little as if offended. “Of course not. Nothing incriminating.”

“We came up with the plan the next day,” Shikamaru explained. “Sakura and I talked before we got Ino involved.”

“And the plan was to spread a bunch of rumors,” Iruka suggested.

“Well, kind of,” Sakura replied. “There was no containing the rumor anymore, seeing as even Ino was sure that it had spread too far, so we had to do something else to make sure no one caught onto the truth.”

Shikamaru nodded in agreement. “The normal methods of stopping sensitive information from spreading – that is, what we normally do as shinobi – were unavailable since we’re dealing with innocents and allies that can’t be eliminated. The leak couldn’t be dealt with any further, either. So we had to accept that the information was out there and was going to be passed on.”

Iruka looked a bit uncomfortable at how Shikamaru had phrased that, but Shikamaru was only referring to the standard guidelines for an information breach. When dealing with enemies, eliminating or capturing those who had learned the information was standard procedure. The first priority was always to contain the information before it could spread any further before then taking care of the leak itself and anyone else who knew. The leak – Ino, Lee and Gai – had been considered ‘taken care of’ already at that point and containing the information had been deemed an impossibility. That had left them to deal with the information that was out there.

“Our first impulse was to distract. But creating a distraction that would have been effective enough would have been too time-consuming if we wanted to get ahead of the curve. Discrediting the source is normally an option. However, Ino, Lee and Gai-sensei are all trusted and well-respected. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Not to mention they’re our allies and friends,” Sakura added, shooting Shikamaru a stern look before she turned back to Kakashi and Iruka. “Who may have screwed up,” she amended, “but didn’t deserve to be seen as untrustworthy by the general public for it.”

“So we had to accept that the information about the picnic was going to be believed. At least at first. The strategy that then seemed to have the highest chances of success, given all the complex parameters, was deception. Building lies around the leaked information to confuse the ‘enemy’, throw them off the scent and perhaps even make them distrust the initial leak.”

“Diluting the truth with lies,” Sakura said with a self-assured smirk. “We knew people were eager to find out more. So all we had to do was give them answers.”

“Or to flood the gossip market with so many theories and rumors that no one was going to be able to figure out the truth anymore,” Shikamaru said. “And hopefully, they were eventually going to stop bothering.”

“That’s where Ino came into play,” Sakura explained.

Iruka frowned. “She spread the rumors after all? I was pretty sure she didn’t participate in that.”

“She didn’t,” Shikamaru agreed. “We couldn’t have her spreading one story, that would have given that one more credibility than the rest. And she couldn’t be caught spreading multiple conflicting stories. That would have just reflected poorly on her.”

“She helped us come up with the rumors,” Sakura explained. “No one knows rumors like Ino does. She was happy to help us protect our shared former teacher. And since Ino’s a pro at gossip, she knew exactly what the people were going to believe and what was going to satisfy their curiosity. She came up with the first batch. We ended up creating some more with her formula.”

“You certainly provided a lot of options,” Iruka said, tone landing somewhere between annoyed and amused. “I mean, someone from the daimyō’s court? Really?”

Shikamaru glanced at Sakura with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t heard that one, yet. He hadn’t really participated in the actual rumor creation and only very scarcely in the distribution. It had all sounded terribly tedious and while he’d been okay with providing his input for the overall strategy, he’d refused to invest his time in coming up with lies. Not that he had had to. Ino and Sakura had been happy to take over. Ino hadn’t even questioned Shikamaru’s involvement too much once she’d found out what she got to do.

Sakura was turning red. She looked down at her tea. So that rumor had been one of hers then. “That one may gave gotten away from me a little,” she admitted sheepishly. “But it was very well received.”

Kakashi nodded sagely, crossing his arms. “A forbidden noble romance is a crowd-pleaser.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t pass on your literary preferences to your students,” Iruka said, exasperated.

“It’s not like that!” Sakura insisted, her face growing redder. “I definitely don’t read something like that!”

But Shikamaru distinctly remembered her mentioning something else. “Didn’t you say-”

She promptly turned on him and the way her eyes burned with fury, the muscles in her arms flexed in anticipation and her hands balled into tight fists spoke of a nonverbal threat that Shikamaru wasn’t going to subject himself to.

“Nevermind.”

“She got it from you,” Iruka suddenly said. “Oh my- She got it from you.” he repeated, turning to look at Kakashi.

“Huh?”

“That’s why the bland henge was so familiar to me,” Iruka explained. “You were her jōnin-sensei. You taught her how to blend in.”

Shikamaru looked between Iruka and Kakashi. Had Iruka suspected Kakashi to be the instigator at some point? He supposed it made sense given what he had just heard. An outcome he hadn’t anticipated.

Kakashi looked at Sakura with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, you did,” Sakura agreed. “It’s not like I was thinking about it but you were the one to show us how to make a disguise that was difficult to describe.” She smiled. “It worked really well, too. I varied them a little bit to make sure that people thought the rumors had different starting points and no one ever seemed to question it. Well, until you, Iruka-sensei.”

Kakashi was unable to hide the proud glint in his eyes.

“Our plan has been yielding good results overall,” Shikamaru said. “Right now, the village is overflowing with theories but it seems to be at its peak. Just today I overheard people at the Tower saying they were annoyed with the whole thing because they didn’t know what to believe anymore.”

Sakura nodded eagerly. “I’ve heard something similar, too. One of the nurses said it was probably just some kind of misunderstanding.”

“Well, it has also made people accost me in the streets,” Iruka pointed out, growing more tense again. “Asking me for dating advice out of nowhere. Or commending me for my fake choice of girlfriend because of how brave I am to date her or something.”

Sakura frowned but Shikamaru didn’t feel too bad. He’d known that was going to happen from the start. A necessary sacrifice. “It’s still better than the alternative. If we’d done nothing, people would have started digging and speculating on their own completely unchecked.”

“Sure, I guess, but-” Iruka sighed. “I guess I wish you would have just given me a heads-up?”

Sakura and Shikamaru shared another look. That was another thing they had spoken about. Initially, when they had been coming up with their plan. Sakura had pointed out that it felt bad to go behind Kakashi’s and Iruka’s backs. But her and Shikamaru had also known that there wasn’t really any other option.

“If we’d talked to you would you have let us help?” Sakura asked.

Kakashi and Iruka glanced at each other briefly. Neither of them said anything in response but their silence was answer enough. Everyone at the table knew it.

“That’s why we didn’t,” Sakura continued. “It would have been hard to go directly against your wishes, especially if you had known what we were planning. We had to do it like this.”

Kakashi and Iruka remained quiet for another moment. They both seemed to be thinking about the issue. Neither of them appeared to be too pleased with what had transpired. But Shikamaru figured that they couldn’t really argue with the results.

Eventually, Iruka spoke up. “I suppose I owe you some thanks.”

“Don’t thank us too soon,” Shikamaru countered. “There’s one person unaccounted for who won’t be satisfied with a rumor.”

Iruka’s expression became pained. He looked down at his tea mug as a frown settled on his face. “Naruto.”

“Yeah.” Shikamaru gave a nod. “As soon as Naruto returns, he’s gonna ask.”

“We’ve thought about that too,” Sakura explained. “We’ve discussed it and we think you should tell him.”

Kakashi looked at her intently. Then at Shikamaru. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Shikamaru agreed. They had discussed why it wasn’t not too long ago, after all. “But we are still sure that telling him is the best course of action. And not just him. But other people, too. Your friends and closest confidantes.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Kakashi said, a touch protectively. He was leaning a little closer toward Iruka, most likely without even being aware of it.

“It isn’t,” Shikamaru agreed. “But maybe you can hear us out because we’ve given this a lot of thought. You’re stuck in your perspective. But the best strategy considers more than one point of view.”

“Telling Naruto is inevitable,” Sakura pointed out. “I think there’s no denying that. He’ll be back any day now. There’s no way that all the rumors will be gone by then. And he’s going to want to know the truth if it’s about Iruka-sensei. He won’t give it a rest until you speak to him about it.”

Iruka frowned. He looked at the wood of the table as if he’d found a particularly interesting grain in it. “It’s not just that,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “Lying to him by omission or with deflections has been... difficult but okay. But lying outright when he asks about it? I don’t- I don’t know if I could.” He looked at Kakashi with something similar to desperation in his features.

Kakashi’s expression immediately softened in a way that Shikamaru had never seen before and that made him feel like he was intruding on something that was absolutely not meant for him. He wanted to excuse himself to give them space. For all that they hadn’t seemed like a couple when this conversation had started, that one look made it undeniable that they were together.

“I understand,” Kakashi said. “I’d never ask you to.”

“It’s not just that, though,” Sakura said gently and carefully, drawing the attention of everyone at the table back to herself. “When we devised our plan, we set goals. One was to prevent the public from finding out the truth. And the second was a return to the status quo. But, um.” She hesitated. “The status quo isn’t so great, is it?”

Kakashi and Iruka exchanged another glance. “It’s not ideal,” Kakashi agreed and Shikamaru was certain that they all heard it for the understatement that it was. “But it is the way it is for a reason.”

Sakura nodded. “Caution is necessary. And no one is suggesting for you to go public. But there have to be more people you can talk to. To take some of the pressure off, at least.”

“I understand the thought,” Iruka said. “But the last time anyone found anything out about me, the whole village knew about it two days later.”

“But only because Lee-san messed up and Ino didn’t understand how sensitive things are,” Sakura insisted. “Neither of them are cruel people. And Ino, even if she hasn’t proven it to you very well, can actually keep secrets, too.”

Iruka hesitated. “No, I- I can believe that, actually.”

Shikamaru watched him closely and the other two were giving him a curios look as well.

He sighed. “That evening you talked to her, I talked to her first. All I wanted was for her to know she’d messed up, but- erm- Well, I used an incriminating word.”

“Incriminating?” Kakashi asked.

“I said ‘him’ when I really shouldn’t have,” Iruka admitted while he was carefully not looking at anyone. Then his nervous energy became more charged. “Look, I was distressed and angry and it slipped out.”

Kakashi stared at Iruka at what must have been brand new information to him. Shikamaru hadn’t known about this either. Apparently, Ino had kept her mouth well and truly shut about it. No wonder she had felt so guilty.

“See, and nothing bad happened,” Sakura cut in. “She can be trusted. And Lee-san can typically be trusted, too. And many others. And I’m sure I don’t actually have to tell you this because it’s not like you haven’t been trusting people with other things in the past.”

“Trust is important but it’s not just about trusting people to maintain secrecy,” Kakashi pointed out. “We don’t know how anyone will react. We can’t know that someone won’t be vehemently opposed.”

“Maybe not,” Sakura agreed. “But you can choose whom to tell and you can choose people whom you know well enough to know that, even if they don’t understand it or don’t like it, they won’t do anything about it. I doubt you’d be friends with someone that awful.”

Iruka seemed to start contemplating this but Kakashi still wasn’t convinced. “Even so. This is more than just telling someone a secret. This is a burden to bear.”

“Shinobi are burdened with secrets all the time,” Sakura said dismissively.

“Not like this. It’s not classified information or state secrets. This isn’t anyone’s job. Shinobi sign up to protect village secrets. No one signs up for this.”

“It’s really not as big a burden as you make it out to be,” Shikamaru said easily. “Sure, there’s some small lies and deflections necessary sometimes. But honestly, the only thing that’s bothersome is keeping it from people like Naruto.”

“Whom, as we said before, you will probably have to tell anyway,” Sakura amended. “You should be able to tell others too. So many people care about you guys and your well-being. Wouldn’t it just be easier to just let them in?”

“You’d be surprised how fast care can turn into something else entirely,” Kakashi said seriously as a dark shadow passed over his face. He exhaled slowly and his expression cleared somewhat. “And we’re not just talking about pretending in front of strangers or people you don’t know. There’s other people than Naruto whom it might be difficult to lie to. Powerful people that this would have to be kept from.”

Right. The elders. They were stuck somewhere in this equation too, though Shikamaru didn’t have nearly enough information to formulate a plan about them. Still, the elders probably weren’t going to have any reason to go around questioning people about Kakashi’s relationship status. Not unless someone messed up, at least. Then there were political allies and such that normally would have publicized their relationships, of course.

“You mean the other Kage?” Sakura ventured.

“For instance.” Kakashi nodded. “I’m – unfortunately – pretty well-known and important. The level of secrecy required to maintain things is something I can’t in good conscience ask of anyone. Not even my guards know. So the ANBU as a whole can’t know. They’re not immune to gossiping, either.”

“But don’t you want some breathing room?” Sakura asked. “Don’t you want people to talk to? Or to entertain visitors together? Or to visit someone else as a couple? If you’re being honest: How much longer can you even keep going this way?”

Kakashi looked stricken by Sakura’s earnest and heartfelt words and the way he averted his eyes spoke of guilt. Iruka’s shoulders rose in defense. “It’s not like I- like we don’t want that. But it’s like Kakashi said: This secret is huge. It’s a burden. And if it ever gets out and public favor turns against us, anyone who knew about it is at risk of having their reputation tarnished as well.”

In the end, Shikamaru figured, it was a matter of weighing benefits against risks, as things so often were. While he thought some of the risks Kakashi and Iruka feared seemed a bit blown out of proportion, they weren’t imaginary or unrealistic. However, Shikamaru had come to realize that Sakura – though he’d thought her to be terribly sentimental at first – was also right. The situation wasn’t sustainable. And if something wasn’t sustainable, it was often worth the risk to change it. It wasn’t even just Kakashi’s and Iruka’s happiness that was at stake. It was so much more.

“Honestly,” Shikamaru started, “if you’re not willing to consider it for yourselves, consider it for the village.”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at him. “Care to elaborate?”

“Sure.” Shikamaru leaned on the table. “Every Hidden Village needs their Kage to be at their best at any given point in time. At least ideally. Even in peacetimes. And currently? You clearly aren’t.”

Indignation on Kakashi’s behalf was plain to see on Iruka’s face but before he could cut in to defend his partner, Shikamaru continued.

“Yes, you prioritize the village and do your job. But I’ve noticed you getting more exhausted over the last few weeks alone. Distracted, too. And unless I’m mistaken, it’s largely because of this. That’s a problem. And that’s not even mentioning what could happen in a state of emergency.”

“What exactly do you mean?” Iruka asked, indignation bleeding away.

“Normally, a Hokage’s partner can be assigned an official guard. It’s in the records, past Hokage have done it, village resources can be allocated for a protective detail for a Hokage’s family. In case of an attack or a natural disaster, assigned guards don’t only keep that family safe but they can keep the Hokage informed about things like their partner’s well-being. So the Hokage can focus on protecting the village.” Shikamaru looked between them. “But it doesn’t work that way for you. In an emergency, you, Kakashi-sama, would have to treat Iruka-sensei like any other chūnin. You’d have to disregard his safety as much as that of any other soldier and send him out the exact same way you’d send out anybody else.”

“I’m no stranger to putting duty over personal feelings,” Kakashi said, but there was something conflicted in his eyes and something hesitant in his tone of voice that betrayed how much he grappled with the scenario Shikamaru was describing.

“Sure, but could you knowingly condemn Iruka-sensei to die? No one would expect a Hokage to ask that of their partner if there was any other way. But they would expect a Hokage to ask that of their shinobi.”

“I am one of his shinobi,” Iruka insisted, getting angry. “I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be guarded and spirited away in an emergency just because of my relationship.”

Kakashi was looking at Iruka during his proclamation. Shikamaru noted how tightly he was holding onto his mug as he watched. After Iruka finished speaking, there was a moment of silence as Shikamaru eyed Kakashi who clearly had something on his mind.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Kakashi said quietly before looking into his tea.

Iruka turned to him. “What?”

Kakashi kept his eyes on the tea, observing it in deep thought. He looked different from when he stared at a map of Konoha or at the documentation of a complex new proposal. His gaze was more distant, as if he was looking into himself rather than at anything that they could all see.

“Maybe you would have to be spirited away,” Kakashi finally said, looking back at Iruka. He briefly glanced at Shikamaru and Sakura with obvious discomfort, but turned his attention back to his partner and carried on nonetheless. “You’re not fragile or weak. But in some ways, I am. I couldn’t ask you to die.”

“Kakashi-”

“I can’t,” Kakashi said firmly. “I respect and value the lives of every single person in this village. But yours is different. I treasure it. Shikamaru is right. I could lay down my life, but I couldn’t condemn yours. And I don’t know if I could stand not knowing where you are or how you are if we were under attack.” He hesitated. “I already hated it when Pain attacked the village.”

Pain. So they had been together back then, too.

Iruka continued to look at Kakashi. He deflated somewhat and his expression showed something that Shikamaru couldn’t quite place. Not that he really tried to interpret it when it clearly wasn’t meant for him.

“If at least a handful of people know, they’ll know to check on you, Iruka-sensei,” Sakura said softly. She was much better at gently guiding everyone back into the conversation than Shikamaru was and he gladly let her handle it. “It’s not as good as a guard detail, but it’s better than having you both pretend you mean nothing to each other in a dire situation.”

Kakashi and Iruka looked at her. Kakashi sighed. “I can’t believe this. I think you might have a point.”

Shikamaru exhaled a quiet breath of relief. Beside him, Sakura made a gleeful noise.

Kakashi eyed Shikamaru. “Though I’m surprised that you of all people are suddenly getting so involved in someone else’s personal matters.”

Shikamaru met his gaze. Was he invested in this or was he just doing this out of a sense of obligation? He’d always thought it was the latter, seeing as he was one of two people who could have really helped in this situation – the other person being Sakura. But as he thought about it, he realized that it did go beyond duty, at least somewhat.

Maybe it was because this whole fiasco involved Iruka and Shikamaru had always liked him, in spite of getting in trouble in school for slacking off so much. Back when he had been a kid, a whole lot of people had hated Naruto. But Iruka hadn’t. And that had always put him a cut above most other adults in Shikamaru’s mind.

Or maybe the reason he’d actually begun to care about this was because he’d been witness to how it affected Kakashi. And he deeply respected Kakashi. Not just as his boss but as a leader and a person in general. He didn’t make a habit of showing it, but he’d been thinking of him this way for a while. Ever since Kakashi had stepped in years ago to help Ino, Shikamaru and Chōji avenge Asuma. Back then, he’d been the only reason that Tsunade had let them go. He’d gone up against two Akatsuki with them. It took a special kind of person to do something like that.

So maybe when that special kind of person had told Shikamaru – on one of their first days working together in the Tower – that he was looking forward to building a better Konoha together, only for him and Iruka to apparently have no real place in it, maybe that had struck some chord of injustice in Shikamaru. Maybe that’s what had made him care.

He looked away from Kakashi’s questioning gaze and shrugged. “You’ve been half-assing paperwork for weeks because of all of this. It’s a pain to deal with.”

Kakashi snorted. “Right, that must be annoying for you.”

“Wait, so, you want to tell people?” Iruka asked, attention back on Kakashi.

Kakashi drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t know. What I know is if Gai, Lee-kun or Ino-chan had known the truth, nothing would have gotten out in the first place. And if Sakura-chan, Shikamaru-kun and Ino-chan hadn’t intervened, people could have come to a lot worse conclusions. And I also know that during an emergency, I’ll need to know whether you’re okay.”

“We’ll leave you to discuss this,” Sakura suddenly decided and stood up. “If you do decide that you want to share it and you need anyone to pass along information or do anything else, we can both help.”

“Both?” Shikamaru asked, giving her a flat look for volunteering him.

“Both,” Sakura said in a way that left no room for objections. “Now come on, we’re going.”

“Ah, I’ll bring you to the door,” Iruka said, quickly getting up to join them. He walked them to the front door of his apartment.

“Thank you,” Iruka said earnestly after they had put on their shoes. “For everything.”

“Sure,” Sakura replied with a bright smile. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

Shikamaru grumbled about her offering his help for a second time while the other two exchanged their goodbyes. Then, he opened the door and they both took their leave. Shikamaru was glad that it was dealt with. He couldn’t help feeling a little lighter.

-

Kakashi listened as Iruka closed the front door behind the visitors. His visitors? Their visitors? Either way, an immediate sense of relief overcame him.

It had been weird. Being in private in a room with Iruka and other people without having to pretend that Iruka and him were nothing more than distant friends. Not bad, definitely not. Just unusual. It had put him on edge as if something bad was going to happen at any moment. But nothing had and now Sakura and Shikamaru were gone.

“So,” Iruka said as he returned to the living room. “What do you really think about telling people?”

Kakashi hummed and he watched Iruka begin to pick up the tea mugs and he got up to help him clear the table. “Pretty much what I said. I’m not sure. There’s a lot of reasons why it’s a bad idea, but apparently there’s also a lot why it’s a good one.”

Iruka nodded as he headed to the kitchen. Kakashi followed. “What about Naruto?”

“Well, you said you couldn’t lie to him, which I can’t fault you for. So that really only leaves one option.”

Iruka set down the mugs on the counter by the sink. He lingered there for a moment and let out a heavy sigh. “He’ll be so mad that I didn’t tell him sooner.”

Kakashi frowned. He set the mugs he had been carrying aside and went over to put a hand on Iruka’s back. “Maybe for a moment. But he’ll bounce right back when you explain why.” It went without saying that Iruka was going to be the one to tell him the truth. Iruka was better at these things and closer to Naruto. And without Kakashi present, they’d both have the space they needed to talk about it.

“Yeah, maybe,” Iruka said, still sounding upset. He then looked at Kakashi and his eyes were full of hurt. “I don’t want him to have to keep it to himself. I mean- Not entirely. It’s one thing to keep something like this from strangers. But from friends- Worse, from your own wife? She considers me to be family.”

Kakashi nodded. He understood Iruka’s implicit plea. “There’s a lot at stake,” he said gently. Iruka didn’t need the reminder and Kakashi didn’t mean it as one. But he couldn’t really put the truth into words. That he was afraid of the potential consequences of telling anyone anything. That sharing their secret with anyone was a point of no return.

“There is,” Iruka agreed, clearly understanding him. He looked at Kakashi’s face for a moment and reached out to tug down the mask. Kakashi let him without hesitation, not minding that Iruka could maybe see his anxiety.

“And once something is said, we can’t take it back,” Kakashi added.

Iruka cupped his face. He looked into his eyes. “But isn’t this killing you?”

Kakashi’s eyes widened at the sudden question and the deep pain that resonated in each word.

“I know it’s dangerous,” Iruka said softly. “Naruto knowing will be dangerous. Him being allowed to tell another person even more so. But can you look me in the eye and tell me that you are happy with the way things are? That this isn’t slowly killing you?”

“Being with you is doing the opposite of killing me,” Kakashi said honestly, his voice barely a whisper.

Iruka stroked Kakashi’s cheek with his thumb. “And yet, the secrecy is draining you. Shikamaru-kun was right. You’re weary. Tired of this. And so am I.”

Kakashi leaned into Iruka’s warm touch. “Every person who knows increases the risk of discovery. And every single one of them might disagree with us being together. So much so that things could be damaged irreparably.”

Iruka nodded. “But we can choose whom to tell. And we can trust that those people, even if they don’t like it, are good enough people to leave things be in spite of it.”

Kakashi didn’t know what to say to that. The reasons for secrecy remained unchanged and unyielding. The looming consequences disastrous.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said softly and he took a step closer. “I think I’d really like to tell some people.”

Kakashi looked into those soulful brown eyes he’d fallen in love with years ago. The ones that he fell in love with again and again whenever they met his own. He let out a soft and shaky breath. “Let’s start with Naruto.”

Iruka smiled, relief coloring his features. “Yeah. We’ll start with Naruto.”

Chapter Text

In the past ...

The next two weeks passed like a dream.

With Kakashi on mandatory leave and under strict orders to try to enjoy himself, he and Iruka could actually, properly, spend some time together. And use that time to figure what it was that lived between them and what they wanted that thing to become.

Kakashi was a restless creature. He kept looking for something to do or somewhere to go and Iruka suspected that being off the mission roster without being in the hospital, even if only for two weeks, didn’t sit right with him. He had moved past his anger over his fate and accepted his free time but filling it didn’t come as easily to him as it did to many other people. That, and there was some evident trepidation about Iruka’s and his fragile new connection that became visible in the tension in his shoulders and his hesitance.

Iruka hoped that, with time, this trepidation was going to fade and make way for something easier. For Kakashi to be able to have more faith in himself and in both of them. The key, Iruka assumed, was in their shared moments. So he tried to have as many of them as possible before Kakashi was assigned a new mission.

Of course, Iruka still had to handle his usual obligations, so they weren’t as free to be with each other as he wanted them to be. He cleared as many evenings as he could. He had never missed one of his shifts at the Mission Desk in all the years that he’d done the job, so when he said that something had come up one of the days during Kakashi’s and his two weeks, his colleagues were forced to make do without him.

And so, Kakashi and him spent time together. Not as much as people who were dating publicly might have. But it was time and they shared it and already, it was as if they were watering a bed of flowers together. Nurturing something so that it could flourish.

Iruka had decided, that night that Kakashi had finally stayed over, that they were going to take things slowly, in spite of their friendship and joint sexual history. This proved to be a good decision as Kakashi often seemed unsure of himself, especially when it came to talking about certain things, betraying his unease and inexperience with relationships. He was frequently hesitant to take off his mask when they were alone and Iruka never pressured him, but saw it as lingering reluctance to let Iruka in. But there was solace in the fact that the mask always came off eventually.

Naturally, Iruka never asked him to remove it. He didn’t push him in any other way, either. He never pried when Kakashi became hesitant about something. He didn’t ask for a label for what they now had, he didn’t ask for commitment or a promise that things were going to be long-term. What he had offered Kakashi was for them to date. As much as they could in their situation. Allowing them both to figure things out without any expectations or pressure. And Kakashi had accepted.

So during their two weeks they met up mostly in the evenings and mostly in Iruka’s home, but not exclusively. Sometimes, they met up in public under the guise of their friendship or far enough away from other people to make sure no one noticed them hanging around each other so much. When Iruka asked whether he could see Kakashi’s place one time, Kakashi still insisted that it wasn’t suitable for visitors. Iruka remained curious about what Kakashi’s home looked like, but he didn’t ask again. Eventually, he was probably going to find out.

Kakashi and Iruka talked a lot when they met up. Not really about their relationship but about everything that came to mind. They always asked each other about their respective days with Iruka having much more to report on than Kakashi and their conversations always turned to other things and lasted for hours afterwards. One evening, Iruka talked at length about his interest in sealing, specifically barrier seals, which he had used on Kakashi during their spar all those months ago. Another evening, Kakashi went into great detail about dog breeds, about which were his favorites and why and he told Iruka that he was going summon his ninken pack to properly meet him at some point. Iruka assumed that it was probably going to be in the future, when things between them felt more stable to him.

When they didn’t talk, they kissed and touched and were close to each other and all of it was good. Iruka’s emotions felt heightened, like Kakashi was some kind of drug that he was partaking in. Every brush of Kakashi’s fingers on his skin sent sparks flying through his body and every time their eyes met, a swarm of butterflies roared to life in Iruka’s gut. He was besotted. Enchanted. But he tried to play it cool – or at least a little cooler – because he was sure that if he displayed the magnitude of his affections to Kakashi, it was going to intimidate him.

Kakashi played a similar game with him although most likely for different reasons. He played at coolness, nonchalance and indifference. But as soon as Iruka spoke softly to him or touched him, all of that went out the window. The mask disappeared. Well, masks really – the proverbial one and the one on Kakashi’s face.

Iruka thoroughly, selfishly enjoyed the two weeks of Kakashi’s leave. He relished their shared walks and their cuddling and their dinners and every other thing that they did. He treasured each and every second of it all.

And though it wasn’t a surprise, it felt like a betrayal when those two weeks were coming to an end. When Kakashi informed him that he’d been asked to appear in front of Tsunade the following day, he might as well have told Iruka that they had both been victims of a terrible crime. It wasn’t a certainty that Tsunade was going to put him back on active duty. But given how Kakashi had visibly improved and how desperately he was needed in the field, Iruka doubted that she was going to extend his absence.

The evening before that scheduled meeting, Kakashi and him took a walk together. They’d picked their usual park. It was a summer evening. The worst of the heat had already subsided for the day but most of it still lingered in the air where it was going to stay overnight. The sun was halfway swallowed up by the horizon and the sky around it glowed in orange and pink hues.

Many people were outdoors, enjoying the weather as it became more comfortable. In the park, kids were using the last light of the day to play games, adults were lounging together on picnic blankets and elders were sitting on benches, enjoying the warmth on their weathered faces. In between so much liveliness, no one paid attention to Kakashi and Iruka walking side by side. Their hands brushed occasionally, made to look accidental while being anything but. Each time it happened, a thrill went through Iruka’s system.

It was such a pleasant evening that Iruka almost didn’t want to interrupt it. But Kakashi’s upcoming appointment was never far from his mind.

“You’re seeing Tsunade-sama tomorrow,” Iruka eventually said, ending the comfortable silence that had rested between them.

“I am. First thing.”

“Do you think she’ll give you a mission?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Hard to say. I didn’t expect her to put me on leave in the first place. I’m fully healed, I kept my training limited as she ordered and...” He glanced at Iruka. “I’ve been having a very rejuvenating time.”

Iruka failed to suppress a smirk.

“I don’t know why she’d keep me off duty at this point,” Kakashi said. “I can honestly say that I’m fine and there are missions with my name on them and they’re not getting any less urgent.”

Iruka nodded. “I think you’re right. She’s probably going to send you out again.”

Kakashi remained silent for a moment. Then, very quietly and only meant for Iruka’s ears, he asked, “does that bother you?”

Iruka raised an eyebrow at the subdued tone of voice. “No? I mean, I like having you here. But you’re a field shinobi. I know what that entails.”

“I might be gone for a while.”

“As long as you eventually return, that’s enough for me. That’s how it works when you care about someone who’s on active duty.”

“Right,” Kakashi said as he kept walking beside Iruka. He didn’t sound convinced. But Iruka let it be. For now. Because there was something else that Iruka felt the need to discuss and because he had faith that any disbelief that Kakashi still had was going to fade in time.

“There is actually something I wanted to talk to you about. In case you do get sent out again.”

“Hm?”

“It’s sensitive, so...”

“Got it,” Kakashi said simply. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching and then body flickered them away. They appeared in front of Iruka’s apartment. A risky move, in a way. Perhaps Kakashi was also a little distracted. Or a little unwilling to part ways for longer than they had to.

Iruka quickly let both of them inside.

They took off their shoes and once they were both standing in his living room, Iruka tried to convince himself to talk. He trusted that addressing what he wanted to address wasn’t going to cause any problems between them at this point. But he still didn’t want to make anything weird or uncomfortable. “You once said that you have experience with getting... intimate on missions.”

“Mission sex,” Kakashi offered, unashamed.

“Yes,” Iruka said. “So, er, I don’t know how frequent that is for you. But I wanted to know what your intentions regarding that are.”

“My intentions?”

“Whether you’re going to keep doing that. You know, if you’re sent out with somebody else, is there a chance that you would want to have sex with them? On a mission or afterwards? Or, I guess, independently from missions, too.” Iruka dreaded the response already, something uncomfortable coiling in his chest at the thought of Kakashi with someone else.

Kakashi looked at Iruka with an unreadable expression before averting his eye. “Maa, sensei, sounds like you think that I would cheat on you. Do you really think that of me?”

“What? No, of course not!” Iruka replied quickly. “It’s just- it wouldn’t be cheating, would it?”

Kakashi looked back at him, visibly surprised. “Wouldn’t it?”

“I mean- Well, we haven’t talked about exclusivity.”

Kakashi cocked his head. “I guess.” He paused as if to consider his words. It was obvious that he hadn’t expected them to be talking about this at all, maybe ever. So Iruka was all the more glad that they did.

“Just tell me what you want. Or what you’re feeling. There’s no wrong answers, we can talk about everything,” he offered.

Kakashi hesitated for another moment. “I guess I thought we weren’t sleeping with other people. I’ve had mission sex, but it isn’t exactly a regular thing. Pretty rare actually. Honestly, it’s not even happened since we’ve become friends. Not- Not that it was because of that. Not at first. But just as a frame of reference.”

“Oh,” Iruka replied. The coiled feeling in his chest disappeared and he felt elated. Kakashi hadn’t been with anyone else in a while. Just Iruka. In the last months, maybe even the last year, depending on when Kakashi had started thinking of them as friends, the only person to experience that kind of pleasure with Kakashi had been Iruka. The thought satisfied him immensely.

“But if you want to see others, I guess you can,” Kakashi added.

“What?”

Kakashi’s shoulders rose a fraction and he wasn’t looking at Iruka. “I’ll be gone a lot. Doesn’t seem fair that you have to wait around for me all the time.”

Iruka considered him. “Is this you telling me that you want us to not be exclusive or is this you thinking you need to protect me from something again?”

Kakashi’s shoulders drew up even further. His cheeks reddened.

Iruka sighed. “Kakashi. If you genuinely want us both to have the option to see other people, we can talk about it. But if you don’t actually want that, that’s okay. And if I would also rather ‘wait around for you’, as you put it, then that’s my prerogative.”

Kakashi looked back at Iruka. His shoulders relaxed. His next words came out slow and deliberate as if it took effort for him to make himself say them. “I guess it would be okay then- No, I would like it then, if we didn’t see other people.”

“Great.” Iruka smiled. “I’m actually really happy that you want to be exclusive. I don’t really have any intentions of sharing you, either.”

Kakashi hummed but he didn’t reply.

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” Kakashi replied immediately. But Iruka could tell that it wasn’t and he could also tell that Kakashi wanted to add something, too. “Just seems like you’re getting a pretty bad deal here.”

“How do you mean?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’m out of the village more days than not. When I return there’s a good chance I’ll be injured or otherwise compromised. Might even have to go to the hospital. That’s a lot of waiting for you. And all you get in return for waiting so much is... well-”

“What I get is time with a precious person whom I care very, very deeply for,” Iruka stated firmly. “Which is something I think is worth waiting for.”

Kakashi shook his head, averting his gaze again. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone who’s present? Or who’s less...” He hesitated. “... me?”

Iruka snorted. “That would be a very stupid thing for me to do seeing as what I want is you.”

Kakashi’s blush deepened.

Iruka stepped closer to take one of Kakashi’s hands, causing him to look back at him. Their eyes met. “I know,” Iruka said softly, “that you see yourself as this deadly weapon with no skills or personality beyond being a shinobi. And if you were like that, you would probably be right, I wouldn’t want to be around that. But that’s not how I see you.” Iruka reached up with his free hand to cup Kakashi’s cheek. “And a part of you must know that because if you really were just some weapon, you wouldn’t care about whether I’m getting a bad deal or not. You wouldn’t care about any of this at all.”

Kakashi just looked at him for a long moment before sighing and leaning into Iruka’s touch. “You know, you’re very argumentative.”

Iruka grinned. “So I’ve been told. And I’m also right most of the time and you’d do well to remember it.”

Kakashi huffed out a laugh. “Is that so? Well, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You better,” Iruka said before he began to lean in.

Kakashi got the hint and pulled down his mask to meet Iruka in a kiss.

-

The following morning, Kakashi stood behind Tsunade’s desk. She was eyeing him closely as if she could make a verdict on his immediate future by judging his appearance alone.

“So,” she said when that apparently proved impossible, “how are you feeling?”

“Ready,” Kakashi replied honestly. “My injuries are fully healed, my chakra is completely replenished and I’m ready to go.”

Tsunade gave him an exasperated sigh in response. “That’s not what I mean, brat. How about this: How do you feel about your last mission?”

“My last mission? It was straightforward and a success. Though I could have avoided getting my arm injured if I had settled for slightly less efficiency.”

Tsunade watched him. She hummed. “What about the missions before that, the last weeks before your absence in general. Did you handle those well?”

“I completed my missions without fail,” Kakashi said automatically. But then his mind and the purpose behind this conversation caught up to him. “However,” he added carefully, “I was pushing myself too much. I realize that that wasn’t sustainable behavior.”

“Oh?” Tsunade said with a smile. “And why is that?”

At this point the conversation began to feel a little patronizing. “I was overexerting myself.”

Tsunade nodded. “I suppose that’s good enough. So how do you feel about taking on a new mission?”

“Good, Tsunade-sama.”

“Yeah, I figured you were going to say that,” she said and leaned back in her chair. “Honestly, I’d rather keep you off the mission roster for another week to make sure. But I can’t right now. There’s a lot of things coming in that I need you for, among them some things regarding the Akatsuki. However.” She gave him a stern look. “You are from now on obligated to spend a few days in Konoha in between missions to prevent this level of exertion from happening again. Unless there is an actual emergency, you’re not doing this back-to-back nonsense anymore. Do you understand?”

Kakashi winced. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And absolutely no more bullying the Mission Desk staff into giving you simultaneous assignments. I’ve spoken to them and they will tell me if you try.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. That was easier than expected,” Tsunade mused. Kakashi didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. “Well then, maybe this won’t be a problem, either: I’ve assigned someone to accompany you on your next mission. And you better believe they will be reporting back about any unnecessarily risky behavior.”

Kakashi frowned. “You’re having someone shadow me?”

“Kakashi. Two weeks ago, you stood here and acted like your mangled arm was nothing. You took demanding missions, one after another, that honestly probably should have killed you.”

“Maa-”

“Don’t ‘maa’ me. I’ve gone through all the assignments you’ve completed in the last weeks and all their reports and your performance has been nothing short of insanity. Now I can’t keep you here as would probably be best for you. But I can send someone along to make sure you come back alive,” she explained with a tone that made it clear that her mind was made up and Kakashi could do nothing to change it. Kakashi really didn’t like that tone.

“Fine,” he sighed. “But you can’t expect me to play nice with them.”

“Actually, I think you will,” Tsunade said with a far too knowing smile. “Come in!”

Immediately, someone appeared beside Kakashi seemingly out of thin air. When Kakashi turned, his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Tenzō.”

Tenzō, his precious little kōhai whom he hadn’t seen in far too long, was standing there, looking at him. Kakashi realized right that moment as their eyes met that he’d actually missed his friend. They’d been so close when they had both been in ANBU. But Kakashi’s inability to maintain his relationships had extended even to him.

Tenzō was wearing his normal ANBU gear sans Cat mask which he was holding in his hand. “Hello, senpai,” he replied with a smile.

Kakashi turned back to Tsunade. “You’re sending Tenzō?”

“I have it on good authority that he’s uniquely qualified to monitor you.”

Godaime must have unearthed something about their shared history. Kakashi shot Tenzō a look. Tenzō coughed and looked away. “I suppose he’ll do,” Kakashi said simply and he gleefully ignored the look of indignation his former kōhai gave him in response.

“Wonderful,” Tsunade said. “In that case-” She tossed him a scroll. “Your instructions. Do come back in one piece. And you,” she addressed Tenzō, “see to it that he does.”

“Yes, Tsunade-sama.”

“So, senpai. What did you do to make Godaime-sama assign you a shadow?”

Kakashi and Tenzō were jumping through the forest of Fire Country. Kakashi had sort of hoped that Tenzō wasn’t going to ask about that but then he had also known him long enough to know better. He hummed. “Didn’t react strongly enough to an injury, I suppose.”

Tenzō sighed. He had changed into a standard issue uniform before they had headed out together. It was a little unusual to see him in anything other than his ANBU gear. “You could at least make an effort if you’re going to lie to me.”

What a stubborn little kōhai Tenzō could be. “Did Godaime not tell you?”

“She said something. But I’d like to hear it from you,” Tenzō explained. “I imagine that she had good reasons, but she does have a different perspective.”

“Are you going to report this conversation back to her?” Kakashi asked.

“I’ve been instructed to report any and all behavior that I deem to be a risk for your well-being. So I guess it depends on your answer.” He paused. “But most likely: No.”

Kakashi glanced at his companion before looking away again. “Someone voiced some concerns about how many missions I’ve been taking. Godaime listened.”

“Someone?” Tenzō asked.

“A friend,” Kakashi replied.

“Hum. Gai-san?”

“No, not Gai.”

“Huh. Do you think they had a point?”

Kakashi could tell that it was an honest question, not one meant to goad any sort of response or truth out of him. Still, he hesitated for a moment before replying, “yeah. They did.”

He prepared himself mentally for further prying but apparently Tenzō picked up on his reluctance to divulge any further information and actually decided to leave it alone. Kakashi was grateful for it. There was an unspoken understanding between Tenzō and him when it came to some things. There always had been, ever since Tenzō had ditched Root to join Kakashi’s ANBU squad.

And so, though Kakashi certainly didn’t appreciate being observed, he was actually glad that, if someone had to accompany him, that Godaime had chosen Tenzō for the job. Tenzō had been by his side through some very rough times and a lot of terrible missions that were best left unmentioned forever. He understood the mission-driven mindset that still haunted Kakashi better than most. And he wasn’t afraid of Kakashi or afraid of restraining, moving or otherwise taking control over Kakashi if it ever became necessary. Not that Kakashi thought it was going to be. He hadn’t lied when he had said that he was ready for missions again.

Going by sentimentality, since Godaime had clearly made a point of assigning Kakashi someone that he could stomach to be around, she could have sent Gai along instead. But while Kakashi appreciated Gai, Gai had never really understood the parts of Kakashi that had thrived in ANBU. Those same parts of him that still allowed him to become reckless and self-destructive sometimes.

Tenzō did.

Tenzō also wasn’t a stranger to this kind of mission. The one he himself was on to monitor a comrade. ANBU were sometimes send out to shadow and evaluate shinobi – particularly jōnin – that seemed volatile or otherwise unstable. That kind of observation normally happened in secret, though, as the whole point was to see how someone behaved when unsupervised.

But in those circumstances, the targets of such missions didn’t have ANBU backgrounds themselves and were far less likely than Kakashi to spot someone tailing them. Kakashi could appreciate Godaime opting to be upfront about the surveillance he was under.

Kakashi enjoyed Tenzō’s presence so much that he only sort of wished that he could tell him that he was wasting his time by being there. Kakashi was done taking unnecessary risks that were likely to get him killed. He had a reason to make it back alive. And that reason felt more stable and more present than ever. Even if some parts of Kakashi still feared that it was all a lie he was telling himself. That, eventually, without a doubt, once certain truths were learned, everything was going to come crashing down.

But he didn’t allow himself to dwell on that possibility. Instead, he thought about the kind smiles and bright eyes and gentle kisses and sweet words that were hopefully going to await him once he got back to Konoha. Things that he didn’t deserve but that were for some miraculous reason given to him freely and willingly. By Iruka.

Iruka wanted him. What a heady feeling.

Even if it was unlikely to last for long. Even if Iruka was going to leave if he ever saw any more of Kakashi than he already head. For now, Iruka wanted him.

As Tenzō and him progressed through the forest, Kakashi thought about that. About how the promise of being with Iruka was like a beacon for him to come back home. And about how, without Iruka, the desire to return dimmed significantly.

He hadn’t allowed himself to feel this way in the past.

And Kakashi was smart enough to know that it still wasn’t good. He’d known this before and had tried to push Iruka out of his life as a result. Abandoning Iruka was no longer an option. But Kakashi still had to solve this problem.

Iruka couldn’t be responsible for holding back all of Kakashi’s demons. And he shouldn’t have had to. He shouldn’t have had to be Kakashi’s sole reason for returning. Let alone for living. What a terrible burden to put on a person. All of Kakashi’s existence.

Kakashi’s darkness was a crushing, powerful entity. It had been so strong and present just two weeks ago. It had put him on the threshold where his sense of duty – his obligation to return to the village – had once again become overshadowed by something else. And Iruka couldn’t be the only thing standing there on that threshold to hold Kakashi back if it ever came to that again.

Kakashi wanted to be worthy of Iruka. Something that felt utterly impossible with the blood stuck to his hands. He couldn’t wash that off, not ever. But maybe he could do other things. Maybe he could start by being around. By being someone who didn’t dismiss Gai to wallow in solitude. Or by being someone who didn’t refuse invitations on principle to alienate people.

He couldn’t be a creature of light like Iruka. But maybe he could peel the curtains back just a little.

Maybe he could be someone who didn’t ignore the fact that he was seeing his kōhai properly for the first time in over a year.

He looked at Tenzō.

The two of them had stopped early to get some rest so they could do a particularly long stretch of travel the next day. Tenzō was in the process of meticulously clearing an area in the forest to set up a small shack for them. Traveling with him truly had its luxuries.

Kakashi meanwhile was going through some supplies while sitting on a log. He looked at the bag in his hand, braced himself and cleared his throat. “So how have you been?”

It was dead silent for a moment and Kakashi would have thought that Tenzō hadn’t heard him if he hadn’t stopped moving immediately. He turned around. “What did you say?”

“I asked you how you’ve been. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Tenzō stared at him. Something guarded became visible in his demeanor. “I don’t know who you are,” he said slowly. “But I suggest you reveal your true form and tell me what you’ve done with Kakashi-senpai.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes. “Hah-hah.”

“I’m being serious!”

“If you were being serious, you’d already have tried to encase me in a block of wood. What you are being is ridiculous. I asked you a simple question.”

“You’re being ridiculous! You don’t ask those kinds of questions!” Tenzō insisted.

Unsure of what to say to convince him, Kakashi simply kept going through the supplies. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Tenzō didn’t do anything for several moments before finally drawing closer. He sat down beside Kakashi on the log. It took another moment for him to respond to Kakashi’s question, but eventually, he did. “I’ve been fine,” he said. “Godaime has done some restructuring in the... organization. Mostly for the better.”

Kakashi hummed. Better not to mention ANBU out loud. In fact, Tenzō probably shouldn’t even have told him this much. Then again, aside from Kakashi there were next to no ex-ANBU in existence. ANBU retired fairly rarely. More commonly ‘retired’ was synonymous with ‘killed in action’. So the protocol on discussing vague and inconsequential details about the state of things with Kakashi probably wasn’t entirely clear. “Good to hear it. Some change was long overdue.”

“Senpai, is this- are you making small talk with me?”

“Maa, it can’t really be called that if you keep interrupting,” Kakashi pointed out. Then he shrugged. “I just figured I’d catch up with my kōhai. I remember him being rather eager to talk to me back in the day. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it, I’m fine either way.”

“No, no, I do- I-!” Tenzō spluttered. He took a breath. He seemed to think about something, probably about how to proceed in the unprecedented situation of ‘Kakashi wants to have a chat’. His mouth twisted and he eyed Kakashi warily before saying, “I’ve actually taken up a hobby a while ago. But if I tell you about it, you cannot laugh at it.”

“Do tell.”

And so Tenzō told Kakashi about his new hobby – woodworking, which Kakashi absolutely did laugh at – and they spent the first evening since their joint time in ANBU actually having a real conversation. Tenzō talked some more about what he’d been up to as he’d been trying to cultivate a life that wasn’t just ANBU – it sincerely warmed Kakashi’s heart to hear about it – and Kakashi talked a lot about Team 7 and his experiences as a jōnin-sensei, which Tenzō seemed to appreciate and also found some hilarity in.

It felt good to talk like that. To reconnect. It was something that Kakashi didn’t realize that he’d missed. Eventually, Tenzō talked some more about his hobby and as he explained the intricacies of crafting wooden decorations and furniture – a serious hobby that one supposedly did not laugh at, according to him – Kakashi realized that this moment was something precious. Something that he probably wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t been stopped on his path of self-destruction.

Eventually, they retired for the night with their friendship rekindled and revived in a way that Kakashi hadn’t expected.

Kakashi already owed Iruka more than he could ever hope to repay. And he vowed to one day be worthy of it all.

Chapter Text

Present day

Naruto was back.

It was afternoon. Not even 24 hours had passed since the conversation between Iruka and Kakashi and their two well-intentioned former students. And now Kakashi was looking at Naruto and Sai from across his desk. They were still wearing the signs of their recent mission – their clothes were scuffed and dirty. Sai also seemed to have sustained some minor injuries, but they appeared to be largely superficial, and overall both of them looked to be fine.

“Welcome back,” Kakashi greeted them, easily maintaining an even tone of voice even as the sight of Naruto back in the village put him on edge. Had he already heard a rumor on his way to the office? His disposition was as sunny as ever so Kakashi doubted it. Naruto wouldn’t have been able to hide the kind of discontent brought on by hearing something about Iruka. “You seem happy. I take it everything went well?”

“Yes! The mission was a total success, y’know!” Naruto grinned as he puffed out his chest with pride.

“We have indeed accomplished our objectives,” Sai agreed, offering one of his mild smiles.

“Well then, tell me all about it.”

And so they reported. As per usual, Naruto did most of the talking. He started by going over their uneventful journey to the border of Fire Country where they had seen off the delegation. Naruto got verbally lost on a tangent about something Kumi had said for a bit until Kakashi gently nudged him back on topic. Naruto then summarized that first part of their mission by saying that nothing interesting had happened and that he was relieved that they had traveled with others, like Kumi, or it would have been totally boring.

He continued by explaining their following search in the forests. Sai and him had focused on the areas that had been mentioned in previous reports and that Sai had encountered enemies in before. Sai took over at that point to explain that while they had still been able to spot enemies in those locations, their stations hadn’t matched up with the ones from Sai’s memory, meaning that they had changed positions for some reason.

“Did you witness any attacks in that area?” Kakashi asked.

“No. And as our objective was to gather information, we didn’t engage any of them either. We concealed our presence and observed,” Sai said.

Kakashi nodded. “Alright, please continue.”

Sai described how Naruto and him had made their way to the rendezvous point that had been discovered on the previous mission. Naruto butted in to go into great detail about how dreadful and bland and boring the stakeout there had been and how ‘seriously, Kakashi-sensei, you can’t even imagine’. Kakashi didn’t feel up to rebutting that claim. Instead, he simply gave Naruto an unimpressed look that prompted him to continue the report. For all that the stakeout had been boring, it had also been successful.

Naruto explained that after an eternity, an enemy had appeared at the rendezvous point – without displaying any current or past village affiliation, according to Sai. The enemy had met with a cloaked figure. Naruto had tapped into Sage Mode to see whether he could identify either person but neither chakra signature had been familiar to him. Unfortunately, the two cloaked people had used some kind of barrier to make it impossible to listen in on them. So Sai and Naruto had waited for them to finish their brief interaction before splitting up to track both participants. Sai recounted with some dismay that his quarry – the cloaked figure – had noticed him and had managed to escape via jutsu. Not ideal but that at least confirmed that it had been a shinobi.

Meanwhile, Naruto had trailed the other enemy and engaged them in a fight. That enemy had also been a shinobi. A kunoichi, specifically. He explained how he’d managed to subdue her after a few minutes of back and forth and how he had kept her that way until Sai had showed up to help seal her. Afterwards, they’d begun their journey home.

“So she’s alive?” Kakashi asked as Sai pulled out a scroll and held it out to him.

“Yes.”

“Great. T&I is going to have a field day with this,” he said as he accepted the scroll. “Thank you for your hard work, both of you.”

“No problem.” Naruto beamed at him. “So when are we going to go deal with the rest of them?”

“That depends on how long it takes Ibiki to break this one. But seeing as he hasn’t had the chance to properly interrogate someone in a while, I think it will only be a couple of days at most. Once we know what this kunoichi knows, I can formulate a plan,” Kakashi explained.

“Don’t you think we should go now and take care of some of them?” Naruto asked. “There were plenty out there, y’know. Just lying in wait.”

Kakashi sighed. “As much as I’d like to send you out there and handle it, we can’t risk stirring the pot too much. Sometimes, you need to endure something like this for a bit so you can make sure that it gets taken care of properly. If we act too rashly, we might not get a chance to discover why exactly this is happening and risk not properly eliminating the threat.”

“Still, though, wouldn’t it be better to do something?”

“This is doing something,” Kakashi pointed out. “I get wanting to face them head on, but until we have more information we don’t know how they’re going to react to a real attack. We also don’t yet know the full size of their group or what capabilities are among them. A poorly planned strike could lead to unnecessary losses.”

Naruto frowned. “I guess that makes sense.”

Kakashi hoped that it made sense to Naruto. Because if things went his way, eventually he was going to be calling the shots like this. Although, if Kakashi was successful in his time before he passed on the hat, maybe Naruto wasn’t going to have to deal with threats like that at all. “So I’m assuming you’re volunteering for any missions to handle this situation?” Kakashi asked.

“Yeah, of course! It’ll give me a chance to use this new technique I’ve been working on. I mean, it’s not like I have to learn anything new, but Iruka-sensei says that it’s important to always keep learning, no matter how good you are and well...”

Kakashi listened patiently as Naruto rambled about what he’d been up to. It was nostalgic, in a way. Sai, too, seemed content to listen to his friend with a smile. As Kakashi propped up his head with one hand while Naruto went on the third tangent of his explanation, something tugged at his heart uncomfortably.

This was likely going to be the last time that Naruto and him spoke before Naruto learned the truth.

It wasn’t going to come from Kakashi, Iruka and him had agreed that it was for the best for Iruka to handle that. And to do it by himself so that he could properly explain everything and reassure Naruto about the situation if it was necessary.

The thought made Kakashi anxious. As soon as Iruka told him the truth, Naruto’s whole perception of him was going to change. And he didn’t know exactly what that change was going to look like. Naruto adored Iruka, so he probably wasn’t going to be mad at him – at least not for long – but the same couldn’t be said for Kakashi. Depending on how little Naruto liked the idea of one of the most precious people in his life being with him, things could end up getting awkward and strained. Not to mention that Kakashi found it difficult to gauge how Naruto was going to react to the news that the person Iruka had chosen to be with was also a man.

Whatever happened, they were going to have to find a way to deal with it.

“We should probably get going,” Sai eventually spoke up, gently interrupting yet another tangent that Naruto had gotten started on. “We must be keeping Kakashi-sama from his work.”

“Oh. Right,” Naruto replied before looking at Kakashi as if expecting a reprimand.

“It’s fine. I appreciate seeing you two,” Kakashi said. “But Sai does have a point. There’s a lot for me to do. And probably for the two of you too seeing as you haven’t been home in a while.”

“Yeah, I’m going to head home right away,” Naruto said and he stretched before interlacing his fingers behind his head. “Can’t wait to see Hinata, y’know?”

“You’re going straight home?” Kakashi asked before he could think better of it.

“Yeah! I’ve been away for a while so I figured I should go see Hinata sooner rather than later. Why?” Naruto tilted his head. “Can’t I?”

“Of course you can,” Kakashi replied before deciding to switch the subject. “Either way, I want both of you to take some time to make sure you recover. And if you’re on your way out, anyway...” He handed Naruto the scroll he’d received from Sai. “Bring this to Shikamaru-kun and ask him to deliver it to T&I? He should be in his office.”

Kakashi smiled serenely as Naruto accepted the scroll with a grumble about Kakashi being lazy. Sai and him then said their goodbyes before leaving the office.

Once he was alone, Kakashi leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath to try and calm the anxiety that had started buzzing around in his chest as soon as he had seen Naruto. He thought about whether he should have let Iruka know that Naruto was back in the village but if Naruto was heading home he was unlikely to pick up any of the rumors or to go talk to Iruka that day.

His musings were interrupted when the door opened again – without a knock this time – and someone stepped inside. Kakashi had to make an effort to keep himself from sighing or rolling his eyes as he saw his new visitor.

“Kakashi,” Koharu said as she let herself in. “I need to speak with you.”

“I have a lot of urgent paperwork to complete,” Kakashi said but Koharu was already closing the door behind herself.

“This will only take a moment,” she explained and Kakashi was certain that he could have said that the village was burning down and she still would have stood there uttering the same dismissive words and insisting on having a conversation with him.

“What is it?” Kakashi asked, being neither in the mood nor really having the time to beat around the bush.

Koharu approached the desk and stopped in front of it. She looked at him with her keen old eyes and Kakashi didn’t appreciate the examination. “Have you looked at the information that we’ve provided?”

She must have been referring to the file about his clan. Kakashi considered his options. This stupid wedding matter couldn’t actually progress, he still needed to find a way out of it. At the same time, complete defiance and resistance to the elders’ attempts could cause more drastic measures to be taken against him. “I’ve looked at it, briefly. There are a lot of other things demanding my attention right now.”

“Hm. So what did you think?” she asked.

Kakashi shrugged. “Names of a lot of dead people,” Kakashi said dismissively. A pang of guilt shot through him as he recalled some of those names. As he remembered the tales about his grandmother.

“Your clan,” Koharu said. “Your blood.”

“Well, yes. They were that, too.”

“It was a great clan,” Koharu mused. Kakashi briefly wondered whether the past tense was meant to offend or bait him, but he felt nothing about it. She was right, after all. “Older than Konoha itself.”

Kakashi hummed as he looked at the documents currently in front of him. “I was aware of that already.”

“Were you? Well, I wasn’t sure. You had fewer opportunities than others to learn about your history.” She paused. “Did you see what your ancestors were like? Lauded for accomplishments, the lot of them. A proud and noble bloodline.”

With lots of interesting anatomical details, supposedly. Kakashi suppressed a shudder at the memory. He didn’t look up at her. Her cheap manipulation tactics didn’t deserve to be rewarded with the pretense of interest. He would have liked to call her out on it, but he had to play it safe. No matter how annoying dealing with all of this was.

“Do you finally see the value in passing on your legacy?” she asked.

“I see some value, yes. And I understand your point. But I’m still not convinced that I ought to be having children. My hesitation had nothing to do with that.”

Her brow furrowed as if she couldn’t conceive him prioritizing anything that wasn’t the merit or value of his genes. “What is it, then?”

Kakashi considered his words as he regarded her. “It’s more about the actual things involved in child care.”

Her raised brow was all the reply he got, so he kept talking. He knew that he had to keep a lot of things close to the chest and he had no intentions of showing anything like vulnerability. But this was inherently a sensitive topic so there was a fine balance to strike when talking about it.

“Children require care and raising. As you might recall, I don’t have a lot of experience with a normal family environment. So I doubt I could provide that to an offspring,” he explained.

Koharu scoffed. “Your lack of skill is immaterial. Your wife will be the one taking care of and raising your children.”

The word ‘wife’ sounded like nails on chalkboard to Kakashi. He swallowed down the seething remark in his throat. “Even if she would be the primary caregiver, I’d still be part of the picture. And children require resources that I don’t have. Like time. Actually, a marriage would probably require that, too.”

“You’ll make it work. Fatherhood is a skill that one acquires once the child arrives,” Koharu said. “The prospect may seem daunting now, but once you’re in the situation, you will learn to adapt. Men are slower than women in this regard, but they work it out eventually.”

“I’d hate to see my work for the village suffer,” Kakashi tried.

“It won’t. Your focus will still always be the village,” Koharu explained in what she might have thought was a reassuring tone but it was nothing short of intimidating to Kakashi. “The mother will look after your children and handle their care.”

“But not by herself. And I really don’t think I have the skills for child rearing.”

Koharu shook her head. “Your job in regards to the children – beyond conception – would be to pass on family techniques. And seeing as you have teaching experience, I doubt that this will become an issue.”

Kakashi had to keep calm. Keep very calm. “So what you’re saying is, all the care and parenting would come from the mother. That doesn’t really sound like a good arrangement for her either.”

“Nonsense. It’s in a mother’s instincts to take care of and raise her children. Much more than it is in a father’s. She will probably be happy to take full responsibility of their upbringing.”

“And forsaking every other aspect of her life for it?” Kakashi asked.

Koharu mustered him. “I know what will reassure you,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Kakashi asked, painfully aware of her evading his question.

“You need to meet some potential matches. I imagine it will be rather enlightening to talk to them. After all, you don’t have an eligible woman to explain this to you,” she pondered. “Yes, I shall begin to make arrangements for you.”

“Wha- arrangements?”

“Yes. Not to worry, I will handle it. Your busy schedule will remain unaffected,” Koharu said.

Kakashi stood up. “You can’t make arrangements like that without my permission.”

“Oh? And why wouldn’t you permit it?” Koharu asked sharply. “Nothing bad could come of meeting some matches, could it?”

Kakashi hesitated, raking his brain for any kind of solid, believable excuse. But he had nothing. “Like I said, I have a lot to do-”

She scoffed again. “You can spare an afternoon. Employ more people if you’re falling behind so far.”

Kakashi didn’t know what to say as she approached the door.

“I will keep you informed of the arrangements.”

And with that, she left.

Kakashi sat down heavily in his chair.

Arrangements. Great. Just what he didn’t need.

-

“Naruto. I’m seeing Kakashi.”

Too blunt. And too easily misunderstood. Again.

“Naruto. Maybe you have been wondering why I have been rejecting all the matches you found me. Well, it’s because I’m already with someone. Not that it was your job to set me up anyway. Or that I would have wanted to meet any of them if-”

Completely losing the point. Again.

“Naruto. I have been keeping something from you. It’s sort of a big deal, so I hope that you can forgive me. But I understand if you’re mad.”

That sounded like groveling.

Iruka groaned and he stopped his pacing as he buried his face in his hands. He’d been practicing his stupid speech all day. Quietly in his head while he had been at the Academy and out loud now that he was home. And he hadn’t made any progress so far.

He had gotten lucky and overheard someone mention Naruto’s return to the village so he knew they could be meeting any day. Iruka needed to be prepared.

But he wasn’t.

As much as Kakashi had insisted that he was the better person to talk about this – which was probably still true – Iruka had no idea what exactly to say to Naruto. Was he supposed to just cut to the chase and talk about the relationship? Or was it better to lead with the fact that Iruka was interested in men to let him adjust to one piece of information at a time? Iruka had never actually come out to someone like this and every method sounded excruciatingly awkward.

He sighed heavily and let himself fall onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling.

Naruto wasn’t going to take this well. No matter his feelings on the nature of the relationship or the partner Iruka had chosen, he had been lied to for years by someone important in his life and that was a hard pill to swallow. Especially for someone as earnest as him. Guilt crumpled something in Iruka’s chest as he imagined Naruto’s disappointed face. He deserved it, he supposed, and if Naruto was going to be angry or dejected, Iruka couldn’t control that. But he did want him to understand why Kakashi and Iruka had kept things secret from him. And to make sure that he knew that it wasn’t because of him specifically and more because of their complicated circumstances.

But to do any of that, he was going to have to find some approach to this conversation that didn’t make him want to rip his hair out.

One of the problems was that Naruto’s and his relationship was somewhat unique. He’d been Naruto’s teacher, he saw him as a little brother and he’d stood in for his father at his wedding. There was no doubt that Naruto was family, but there wasn’t an exact comparison to draw to any kind of traditional family dynamic that didn’t feel a little off.

He didn’t want to come off like a parent telling their child about a new partner. That didn’t feel quite right. But it also wasn’t quite wrong, either. He definitely didn’t want it to seem like he was asking for Naruto’s permission. Or for Naruto to see Kakashi differently. He wasn’t sure what we was going to do if Naruto vehemently objected to their relationship for any reason. But that was just something he was going to have to figure out in the moment. Even if he doubted that that particular moment was going to come to pass.

Perhaps Iruka was naive, but he couldn’t see Naruto resenting him for whom he loved.

Iruka closed his eyes. This felt like Konohamaru’s wedding video all over again. Only this time, the message had a lot more upsetting potential than marital well-wishes did.

Things were going to change. And it felt like it was up to him to nudge them in the right direction.

“Someone’s lost in thought.”

Iruka shot up, startled. He immediately relaxed when he saw the source of the voice standing in his bedroom. “Kakashi. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I could tell,” Kakashi replied, visibly amused. He crossed the distance to the bed, kissed Iruka hello after pulling down his mask, and sat down next to him.

“Is it really okay for you to be here?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Shikamaru-kun’s and Sakura-chan’s efforts are still holding up as far as I can tell. Plus, I just felt like seeing you.”

Iruka smiled. He leaned against Kakashi. “Well, I’m not going to object to that.”

“Good. Now what’s got you so distracted?”

Iruka groaned again. “I was just thinking about how I’m going to tell Naruto about us. I can’t figure it out.”

“Have you been practicing out loud?”

Iruka flushed. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Kakashi chuckled. “I guess it isn’t. Well, you don’t have to figure it out right now. Naruto reported back today but he seemed pretty intent on seeing his wife, so I imagine he’ll spend the rest of the evening at home.”

“I figured as much,” Iruka replied. “But I can’t stop thinking about this. This has been coming for such a long time and he’ll know that we’ve been lying to him by omission for years. I can’t afford to screw this up.”

Kakashi hummed. He wrapped an arm around Iruka to pull him closer to himself. “Can I help you figure it out?”

“I don’t know.” Iruka grimaced. “I’m already struggling with the whole approach. Do I tell him as a friend or like a family member? It’s not all the same, you know.”

Kakashi nodded beside him and Iruka leaned more onto him, happy to feel the warmth of him against his body. “Okay, how about this: What’s your goal?”

Iruka blinked. He sat up straighter to look at Kakashi. “What do you mean? My goal is to tell Naruto about us.”

“Well, yes. But beyond that, what do you want to happen when you tell him? How do you want things to change?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka contemplated this. “I mean, ideally? Not at all. I just want him to continue to accept me. I want him to accept us.” He hesitated. “I guess, if I could wish for things, I’d want to be able to talk to him about you. I’d want us all to be able to be in the same room without secrets and without anyone having to pretend. I’d want us to invite him and Hinata-chan over for dinner sometime.”

Kakashi smiled. “So that’s your true objective. Now you just have to find the strategy that gets you there.”

Iruka stared at him. “You know, not everything in life can be treated as a mission.”

“Agree to disagree.” Kakashi eyed him. “Case in point: My next objective is to make my boyfriend so happy he forgets his worries for a bit.”

Iruka smiled. He raised an eyebrow. “That so? Then tell me, what’s the strategy getting you there?”

“Well, step one was to surprise my target by showing up in his home. Step one is therefore complete. Step two would be cooking up a very nice stir-fry that my target has praised very much in the past. Step three will require some intelligence-gathering before it can be executed,” Kakashi explained.

“What intelligence do you need for that?”

Kakashi looked at him intently, a flush creeping onto his cheeks as he leaned in a little closer. “What kind of activities my target is in the mood for tonight.”

Iruka smirked as his stomach flipped in delight. He leaned closer as well, staring into Kakashi’s eyes. “Well, I can help you figure that out. I find your plan very agreeable.”

‘Agreeable’ had been an understatement, Iruka reflected as he sucked a bruise into the side of Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi had cooked for him as he had promised and somewhere between watching him handling a large frying pan over a hot stove and watching him wash down his food with a cold drink, Iruka had gotten very impatient and antsy to finally execute step three of Kakashi’s plan. Which had led them right back to the bed where they had started. Iruka was hungry and demanding, so much so that they hadn’t even gotten around to putting away any of the dishes in the living room.

Clothes were scatted about the floor in a trail leading from the table in the other room all the way to the bed. Iruka’s hair tie was probably somewhere among them and his hair was falling down around his face while he was on top of Kakashi, following every urge and impulse to devour him.

Kakashi made a lewd noise as Iruka released his abused neck and Iruka immediately kissed him to drink in that sound with his mouth, capturing Kakashi’s parted lips with his own.

“Tell me what you want,” Iruka demanded hotly once they broke apart.

Kakashi’s face was a beautiful shade of red, flushing even further as Iruka’s fingertips toyed with the hem of his pants.

“You,” Kakashi managed to gasp out. “Whatever you want to give.”

Music to Iruka’s ears. He met Kakashi in another filthy, open-mouthed kiss before he whispered, “What I want is to make you forget your own name.”

Kakashi only groaned in response. He looked stunning against Iruka’s dark bedsheets and a million possible scenarios were painted into Iruka’s head, each one more enticing than the last. So many ways to take his lover apart.

Kakashi’s arms were wrapped around him and he pulled him down, closer, into another kiss. Iruka happily obliged and let one of his hands graze the hem of his pants again before reaching lower, fingers splayed, finally palming-

The doorbell rang.

Both of them froze. Their gazes met.

“You can probably ignore that,” Kakashi whispered. His face was flushed and his pupils were blown wide.

The doorbell rang again. The sound was immediately followed by the sound of a fist pounding against the front door and a voice calling, “Iruka-sensei!”

“It’s Naruto,” Iruka whispered.

“It is,” Kakashi observed.

“You said he wasn’t coming over.”

“I did.”

The doorbell rang again.

“It appears I was wrong.”

The grating sound of the doorbell started repeating rapidly over and over again with no break. “Iruka-sensei, open up!” Naruto called out as he abused the doorbell. “I know you’re home!”

“He doesn’t,” Kakashi whispered. “If we just wait, he’ll go away.”

“What if it’s important?”

“I need to talk to you!” Naruto yelled.

“It’s not.”

How could it not be? Iruka was pretty sure that Kakashi and him both knew what it was about. Granted, Iruka hadn’t expected Naruto to show up at this hour to talk about that, but what else could this have been about?

The doorbell kept ringing.

“There’s no way he’ll leave,” Iruka said resolutely. “And I’d rather he didn’t use Sage Mode to see who’s in here,” he added meaningfully before he climbed off of Kakashi. That was decidedly not the way Naruto was supposed to find out. Under the continued assault of the doorbell and Naruto’s yelling, Iruka quickly got dressed, picking up clothes off the ground as he went.

Kakashi at least deigned to help, making sure there were no incriminating garments left scattered about as he piled his clothes in his arm. “Your hair-tie,” he offered after a moment.

Iruka took it and quickly put his hair back up.

“Iruka-sensei! This is super important, y’know?!”

“I’m coming!” he finally called out before realizing that the sound-proofing wards would have contained the noise. “Cloak your presence,” he hissed at Kakashi.

“I know, I know,” Kakashi drawled before retreating to the bedroom and closing the door.

Iruka hurried to the front door and swung it open without further hesitation, spurred on by the increasing likelihood of getting told off for a noise violation. His neighbors were going to have some strong words for him.

“There you are!” Naruto exclaimed.

“I was preoccupied. Why are you here? It’s late,” Iruka pointed out.

Naruto seemed to only pay him half a mind as he tried to peer past Iruka into the inside of the apartment. It made Iruka want to turn and check whether there was something there to see. “Can I come in? This is very important and it can’t wait, y’know?”

Iruka noted Naruto’s intent and stressed expression. This wasn’t how he’d planned on talking about this. In the middle of the night, with Kakashi tucked away in his bedroom. But he supposed there was no planning these things when it came to Naruto. He really should have expected as much. At least he could invite him inside and have a proper conversation. He sighed. “Alright, come in.” He stepped aside and let Naruto enter before closing the door behind him.

“Thanks.” Naruto started taking off his shoes in the entryway.

Iruka crossed his arms as he waited. “Whatever this is about, I don’t appreciate you making a ruckus outside. People are trying to sleep, you know.”

“I know but this is super important and you weren’t answering the door,” Naruto explained.

Iruka began leading him inside. “I hope Hinata-chan doesn’t mind you visiting this late. She must have missed you while you were out.”

“It’s alright, she said it was okay to go,” Naruto explained. “Besides, she was the one who told me that-” Naruto paused as they entered the living room.

Curious, Iruka turned to see him staring at the table. Where the leftovers and unwashed dishes of dinner still sat, having been abandoned between one heated look and another. Iruka tensed.

“Did you cook?” Naruto asked.

“Ah, yeah, I did,” Iruka lied and that small falsehood already scraped at his heart.

“But you can’t cook,” Naruto observed.

Iruka shrugged. “It’s just stir-fry. I can make a stir-fry. Anyone can make a stir-fry.” Iruka still couldn’t make a halfway decent stir-fry.

“That’s not true. I can’t make a stir-fry, y’know,” Naruto pointed out as he stepped closer to the table. “Why’s there two bowls?”

“I- um-”

“Chopsticks, too,” Naruto said. “Everything’s set for two people.” He whirled around. “She’s here, isn’t she?!”

Iruka steeled himself. “Naruto-”

“Your girlfriend is here!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t have a-”

“Yes, you do! That noble civilian artist from an unallied village! Where is she? She must have made this!” he shouted, pointing at the leftovers.

“Naruto, calm down! Please!” Iruka said in his sternest of teacher voices, causing Naruto to shrink a little. “There is no girlfriend.”

“Yes, there is,” Naruto insisted, mercifully a little quieter this time. “Everyone knows about her, y’know. Hinata told me so. And the cooking and the bowls and you not being at the door- You’re hiding her!”

“I’m not hiding a girlfriend,” Iruka said, trying his best to keep calm as he also tried to figure out how to start the conversation that he had failed to plan all day.

But Naruto didn’t give him that time. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth?” he asked, voice a little strained. But before Iruka could answer, something seemed to occur to him and he promptly started making his way to the bedroom.

Iruka intercepted him, putting himself right in front of Naruto. He had to keep a handle on this situation. “Naruto. I promise, I’ll tell you everything, just-”

Naruto cocked his head and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Iruka, fixated on something by Iruka’s chin or neck.  

“What?”

“Your shirt’s weird.” Without asking, Naruto reached out. Iruka instinctively leaned back but Naruto was faster, snatching Iruka’s collar- no, it wasn’t just his collar. There was too much fabric for it to be that. Naruto tugged, expanding the fabric as he inspected it. “What is this?” He tugged a little more. “Is this a mask? Why does your shirt have a mask? This is like Kakashi-sensei’s. Do you want to hide your face?”

Iruka couldn’t help the way his face grew hot or the way sweat prickled at the back of his neck. In his haste and stress he hadn’t really noticed that the shirt was a bit ill-fitting. But now that he realized, it felt extremely uncomfortable. “Erm. Well, you see, Naruto. The thing is-”

“That’s really stupid, y’know. Why would you wanna hide your face if everyone’s already seen it? Unless- Are you hiding your face from your girlfriend?”

“I told you, I don’t have a-”

“Does she not know who you are? Why wouldn’t you tell her?”

“Naruto-”

“It has a mask because it’s mine,” a voice said from behind Iruka.

Iruka glanced over his shoulder to see Kakashi standing there observing the scene. He was completely dressed – albeit in Iruka’s shirt – with a kerchief obstructing the lower half of his face.

Naruto stared at him. He released Iruka’s collar. “Kakashi-sensei? What are you doing here?”

“Can’t you tell?” Kakashi asked.

“You’re wearing Iruka-sensei’s shirt,” Naruto observed. He looked between the two of them, face scrunched with confusion for a long time. But then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him, coupled with utter disbelief.

“Wait-,” he said, voice faltering. He stared at Iruka. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It probably does,” Iruka said gently.

“You- you and- Kakashi-sensei?!”

Iruka’s chest constricted. He swallowed. “Yes.”

“And you’re wearing each other’s shirts?! That’s-” Naruto shook his head. He took a backwards step to back away. “That’s too much, y’know!”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” Iruka said as if that made anything better. It didn’t. He knew that.

“Did you mean for me to find out at all?!” Naruto demanded, his voice betraying his hurt. But before Iruka could answer that heartbreaking question, he continued. “But why- everyone’s talking about your girlfriend and-” Naruto gaped, looking horrified. “Iruka-sensei, are you cheating on her?!”

“What? No!” Iruka shot back. “There is no girlfriend, Naruto! There’s just-” He looked at Kakashi who looked a little chastised and very uncomfortable. Iruka’s demeanor softened immediately. “There’s just Kakashi.”

Naruto was still staring at them with a mixture of disbelief, bewilderment and horror. “I don’t- I don’t get it,” he said helplessly.

“Why don’t you two take a walk,” Kakashi suggested, voice a little strained, “and get some air.”

“Right. Yes, good idea,” Iruka agreed. “Would you like that, Naruto?”

Naruto was eyeing Kakashi with a frown. “Yeah, sure,” he finally said, more subdued than he was ever supposed to be.

Kakashi leaned over to Iruka. “Let’s maybe switch shirts first.”

The cool night air did wonders for Iruka’s heated face and his whirring mind.

Although it didn’t help with the rocks sitting heavily in his gut. Naruto was walking beside him and neither of them had spoken a word since leaving the apartment. Iruka glanced at him every now and again. Naruto’s hands were in his pockets and his head was a little bowed.

He wasn’t taking it well.

There was no point in thinking about whether he would have taken it better if he’d found out some other way or whether his frown and dejected posture had been inevitable. Yet, Iruka wondered. And he wished he could have gone back and done things differently. He wished he could have gone back months or years and told him then.

Iruka let him lead the way although Naruto was wandering mostly aimlessly. They ended up at a playground, completely empty and a little unsettling at this time of night. Yet, Naruto meandered over to the swing set and heavily sat down on one of the swings. His gaze was still cast toward the ground.

By briefly focusing on his hearing, Iruka determined that no one was around to see them or hear them. Even the next guard was far away. They were alone. So he followed Naruto to the swings. Naruto appeared to be something between frustrated and crestfallen. Iruka sat down on the swing beside his. Its hinges let out a quiet creak in response.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence.

Guilt and regret churned in Iruka’s gut and he wanted to speak up to mend things but he could tell that Naruto was thinking and working through something. So he gave him the space he needed to process and waited for him to take the first step. And eventually, Naruto did.

“Remember,” Naruto said quietly and without looking at Iruka. “When you pushed me on the swing?”

Iruka looked at him but Naruto was now looking straight ahead, staring at nothing in particular. Iruka looked at his lap. He did remember that day. It had been not too long after Naruto had become a genin, making him an adult by shinobi law. But he had also been a twelve year old boy who had quietly and sadly admitted to Iruka that no one had ever pushed him on the swing. Before quickly insisting that it hadn’t mattered to him at all and that it was fine and for babies anyway and he was a genin already, after all.

“I remember,” Iruka replied. “You were too proud for your own good. Said you didn’t need to be treated like a little kid.”

Naruto smiled. “I didn’t want you to think I needed help. But it was fun. Even if I was a little old for it, maybe. I remember thinking ‘I can get so much higher when Iruka-sensei’s pushing me’.” He paused. “And then you scolded me for jumping.”

“Well, you did land on your face.”

“And you fussed over it so much. It was so embarrassing. But it was great, too, because normally people didn’t fuss over me. And it made me think something like ‘if Iruka-sensei cares about this, he really cares about me’. Like you were always going to have my back, you know? And it’s true. I can tell you everything.”

Iruka smiled sadly. “Of course you can. Always.”

Naruto nodded. “So if I can tell you everything, how come you can’t tell me everything?”

Iruka looked at him, his chest feeling tight again.

“I trust you but you don’t trust me? Doesn’t seem fair, y’know.”

“It’s not like that at all,” Iruka said quickly. “It has nothing to do with trust. Of course I trust you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Kakashi-sensei?”

Iruka bristled. He had checked for presences but the mention of his boyfriend made him look around and check again.

“Iruka-sensei?”

“Ah, sorry. Just- I’m not used to talking about him like this,” Iruka explained.

“Oh, like, outside?”

“Yes.” Iruka hesitated. “Or at all, really. It’s not... safe.”

“Oh.” Naruto hesitated. He seemed to consider this. Then, he closed his eyes for a moment. Orange color appeared at their outer edges and when he opened them again his eyes were golden and frog-like. “There’s no one around. We’re alone.”

“Ah, er, thank you,” Iruka said haltingly at the Sage Mode approved method of detection.

Naruto nodded and dropped his Sage Mode, eyes returning to normal. “So... no one knows?”

“We, we haven’t told anyone.”

“What, like- No one at all?” Naruto narrowed his eyes. “Is he making you keep it secret?”

“No. It’s a mutual decision.” Iruka looked at the ground again, suddenly feeling ten years older and wearier. “It’s too dangerous to share with anyone. It can’t become public knowledge.”

Naruto hummed in that way he did when he was thinking very hard about something. “Why?”

“Because we’re both men. And a lot of people wouldn’t like that. They’d think less of us for it and that’s not something we can risk happening given Kakashi’s position.”

“Oh.”

“Do you-” Iruka cleared his throat. “What do you think about it? That I’m not with a woman?”

Naruto hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Iruka’s heart sank. “That’s okay. It’s... unusual.”

“Yeah.” Naruto paused. “I didn’t even know that that’s allowed.”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, like. I don’t know. I didn’t think that it worked like that? I don’t know.”

Iruka frowned. He really wished he had taken some time to talk to Naruto about these things in the past, even if even mentioning it would have been terribly incriminating. “Well, does it bother you?”

Naruto shrugged. “No? I mean- I’ve never thought about it.” He hesitated, seemingly in an effort to try to understand his own feelings. “I guess I just don’t know how all that’s possible, y’know?”

“Possible?”

“Yes. How does it work?”

Iruka blanched as he tried to parse the question. Was Naruto asking what he thought he was asking? What the hell did he want to know? “How does... what work exactly?”

“All of it! Like, if you got married, would either of you be the wife?”

Iruka grew a little tense. “No, if we could get married, there would be no wife.”

“Okay then, who cooks?”

Oh. This is where Naruto was going with this. “Kakashi.”

“Who does the chores?”

“Both of us do.” Iruka paused. “But Kakashi enjoys them more.”

Naruto seemed to think. “Who handles the money?

“Again, both of us. And none of those things are dependent on gender, Naruto.” Or, they shouldn’t have been, at least.

Naruto frowned. “I guess they’re not... I mean, Sakura-chan sucks at cooking. And Sasuke always had the cleanest room out of all of us...”

Iruka wondered briefly where most of Naruto’s impressions of gender roles came from. Especially when it came to relationships and families. He hadn’t had a set of parents to observe, but kunoichi leaving the field once they got married or had children was unfortunately a commonly expected outcome of most relationships. And same-sex relationships were basically unheard of. It was no surprise that Naruto had just taken inspiration from his surroundings when forming his beliefs.

“I never really thought about all this,” Naruto admitted. “I just figured you’re a man so you should find a woman, y’know?”

Iruka laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you not like women at all?”

“Not in that sense, no,” Iruka admitted.

“Is that why you didn’t say anything? Because you thought it was going to bother me?” Naruto sounded utterly heartbroken by the idea.

“No. Well- I was a little afraid of what you might think, I guess,” Iruka said honestly. “But mostly, we decided not to tell you because if we did, you’d have to keep our secret for us. And that means potentially lying to others. We didn’t want you to have to do that.”

Naruto seemed to think that over for a moment but he was frowning deeply. “That’s stupid.”

“Huh?”

“That’s stupid, y’know!” Naruto repeated. “You lying to me so that I don’t have to lie. Seems really dumb. You should be able to tell your precious people the important things. Like, imagine if I had kept Hinata secret from you.”

“Why would you have kept her secret?”

“I don’t know! But imagine it!”

Iruka paused. He didn’t have to think very much about Naruto’s hypothetical. It was what had caused him grief and guilt for a long time. The idea that hiding such a secret could upset a loved one. “I would have felt very hurt. And thought that you didn’t trust me.”

“Exactly!” Naruto crossed his arms and nodded as he leaned back on the swing a little precariously. “Because you’re important to me. So I was right to tell you about her, right?”

“I get it, yes.” Iruka sighed. “I- I’m really sorry, Naruto. And I know Kakashi is, too. For what it’s worth, I meant to tell you the truth next time we spoke.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I guess that makes it a little better,” Naruto assessed.

“It’s okay if it doesn’t. You can be mad at me. And you’re not obligated to forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” Naruto asked. “Of course I forgive you. I already forgave you. I can’t stay mad at you. Even if you definitely should have told me about this forever ago.”

Iruka looked at Naruto with surprise before smiling and sighing in relief. He didn’t know why he had worried about that at all.

“How long have you been with him anyway? Don’t tell me this has been going on for months.”

Iruka avoided Naruto’s gaze, laughing awkwardly. “Not quite.” He cleared his throat. “Remember when you were away from the village to train with Jiraiya-sama?”

“Yes, but-” Naruto stared at him. His mouth fell open. “But that’s like- like at least four years!”

Iruka hummed. “It’s been so long already.”

“Four years, Iruka-sensei?! You’ve been with him for four years?!”

“Keep your voice down. Please.”

“Sorry,” Naruto said, immediately quieting down. “How did that even happen?”

“Well, while you were gone ran into each other a few times and sort of became friends. And then it became more.”

“I don’t want any gross details!”

Iruka shot him a glare. “I wasn’t going to tell you any!” He exhaled slowly. “Anyway. We just got close and it happened sort of naturally.”

“But then why didn’t you tell me when I got back? Things were different then.”

Iruka considered this. “It was still so fresh and new at the time. It felt too fragile to be open about it.” He hesitated. “You have to understand, Kakashi is a... complicated person. He’s extremely private and it’s not very easy for him to open up. When you got back to the village, he was getting better at that. We were just getting comfortable labelling our relationship. But it wasn’t ready to be shared with others.”

“So he did ask you not to tell me?”

Iruka shook his head. “No. I made that decision myself. I don’t think either of us ever meant to keep the secret from you for so long. But then things happened and changed very quickly and it just stayed like this. It’s no excuse. But it’s the truth.”

“I can’t believe that I didn’t know. For so long.” Naruto blanched. “And I tried to set you up with others! Does Kakashi-sensei know about that? I think I might have told him something about it. Oh no. He’s going to send me on the worst missions as punishment. I don’t want to spend weeks in the Land of Swamps! No bath in the world can get rid of that stink!”

Iruka laughed. “Relax. He knows. He thought if was funny. For the most part, anyway. Though I think it’s probably for the best if you stop now.”

Naruto breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, that mission is aborted.” He paused. “Though I did sort of try to get everyone involved.”

“Everyone?”

“Sakura-chan and Sai and Ino-chan and Shikamaru and- well, everyone. And if none of them know-”

“Well,” Iruka interrupted, “we didn’t tell any of them. But Sakura-chan and Shikamaru-kun know.”

“What? How?”

Iruka shrugged. “They figured it out. You have to ask them if you want to know how.”

Naruto grumbled. “Can’t believe they figured it out by themselves. Stupid geniuses, y’know.” Naruto hesitated. Something must have occurred to him. “So, wait. I can’t tell Hinata about this, right?”

“Actually,” Iruka said and anxiety clung to his heart. But Kakashi and him had spoken about it. They’d made a decision. He just had to have faith in it. “Kakashi and I have decided to tell a few people. So you can share the news with your wife.”

“Huh? Why all of a sudden?”

Iruka considered his question. “In a way? Because of you. For one, we don’t want you to have to lie to your own wife about it. But also your attempts to get me to date made us realize that we’ve been missing out on a lot these past few years. But it’s still absolutely and very much a secret. You can tell Hinata-chan, but no one else. The rest is up to us.”

“Right, okay.”

“I mean it, Naruto. This needs to stay secret.”

Naruto nodded. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

For moment, they were silent. But a burning need for reassurance drove Iruka to speak up again.

“So, aside from being mad that we didn’t tell you sooner, how do you feel about it? Are you… okay with this?”

Naruto grumbled again. “It’s okay, I guess. I just don’t know how you can be with him.”

“Because he’s a man?”

“No. Because he’s Kakashi-sensei. He’s such a weirdo. You deserve so much better.”

Iruka blinked. Then he laughed. “Yeah, he is a bit odd.”

“A bit odd? Sensei, he’s super weird.”

Iruka smiled. “That’s okay. I like his brand of weirdness.”

“I don’t know if I can respect that.”

“I’ll thank you not to insult my taste in life partners,” Iruka chided.

“But you have really weird taste, Iruka-sensei. There has got to be someone better than him,” Naruto griped. “Should I try to find someone for you? I can probably find a nice guy somehow.”

“Please don’t. I want the one I have.”

“Are you sure?”

Iruka smiled. “Of course. There’s no one else in the world for me. I love him, Naruto. He makes me happy.”

Naruto eyed him. “And does he love you?”

Iruka’s smile warmed. “Yeah, I’m sure that he really does.”

Naruto looked at him for a long moment. His lips formed into a smile. “In that case, I have to support it.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. If he makes you happy and you love each other, that’s all that matters, y’know? Even if what makes you happy is really weird.” Naruto paused. “But if he does anything to make you unhappy, I will fight him for you.”

“There really is no need for that.”

“Not now! But there might be.”

“Please don’t try to beat up the Hokage, Naruto.”

Naruto made an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

They spent a little while longer on the swing set before parting ways. Iruka left to go home, back to Kakashi, with a newfound happiness in his heart.

Things were finally looking up.

Chapter Text

In the past ...

Kakashi was lying on Iruka’s couch with his Icha Icha in hand.

Iruka wasn’t far from him, sitting on a cushion at his living room table. He’d scattered several items across its surface over the course of the last hour or so. Among them were paper used to create tags, high-quality sealing ink and a reference book on utility seals, which Iruka kept looking at.

When Kakashi had asked him what exactly he was working on, all he’d been given in response had been a sly smile and a coy, “You’ll see.”

That had been an hour ago. They hadn’t exchanged another word since.

The silence had unfolded naturally between them with Iruka being wrapped up in his project and Kakashi getting lost between the well-worn pages of Jiraiya’s work. Both of them were doing their own thing while enjoying each other’s presence. Well. At this point, it was mostly Iruka doing his own thing. Seeing as Kakashi hadn’t read a single word in over half an hour. It was a testament to Iruka’s focus that he hadn’t even noticed how Kakashi had peered over at him repeatedly or how the sound of turning pages had ceased.

Now, Kakashi was staring blankly out of the window. The heat of summer was on its way out, probably for good as the milder temperatures of September were upon them. Time was flowing by quickly, Kakashi observed. The early September days often put him into a strange funk. His father’s birthday came and went, coaxing a compulsory thought out of Kakashi each time as he counted what age he would have turned that year. It was a thought that Kakashi had never been able to escape, even when he’d been doing everything in his power to distance himself from his father’s legacy. Like clockwork, it came to him every September 3rd, along with a brief spell of melancholy.

However, that thought was now already some days in the past and Kakashi thought himself apt enough at identifying that specific shadow in his mind when it haunted him – he’d known it for over two decades, after all. So whatever had him wistfully staring out of the window, unable to focus in the oppressive silence, was something else. He didn’t feel melancholy. Or grief.

He just felt strange.

Like something was out of place but he couldn’t identify what it was. As if someone had come into Iruka’s home, moved a few things without telling anyone, and left. And Kakashi couldn’t tell which things were amiss, only that something was. It felt similar to how he did after particularly trying missions. When it was as though he’d left his self elsewhere and was now walking around without it. But he hadn’t felt that way over an hour ago when Iruka and him had been talking or before that when they had been kissing.

He didn’t know what exactly this upset was. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have felt any kind of strange. Things were going better for him than they had in a long time. He felt better than he had in a long time, generally speaking. At the core of all this newfound elation sat the thing he had with Iruka. Which he also figured was going well.

At least it was going well by his estimation. With his lack of dating experience, he wasn’t the best judge of what constituted a good whatever-they-had, but he felt comfortable whenever he was around Iruka and Iruka seemed to feel the same way about him. And at the end of the day, that was, if nothing else, a very good sign. When a moment spent together was already categorically better than if that same moment had been spent apart.

It hadn’t been too long since their fight-turned-reconciliation, but Kakashi felt confident that since then, things had been good.

Tsunade had even removed his Tenzō-flavored surveillance after he had completed two missions with a level of self-preservation that she had found acceptable. He took the breaks that she had demanded and used them to train and expand his chakra reserves and to figure out more about his Sharingan – when he wasn’t using the time to meet with Iruka.

He still worried sometimes that he was a blight upon Iruka’s life, cursed to hurt him and eventually drag him down. And he still found himself ruminating on the fact that Iruka didn’t know much about who he really was, about the horrors he had caused, the most innocent of lives he had taken. One by his presence, the other by his hand. And Kakashi knew that everything could still change if Iruka were ever to discover the truth about him.

But he did his best to ignore those thoughts. To focus on the positives, like he figured Iruka preferred him to do.

Those positives being how well things were going.

Because they were. And so all things should have pointed to him being happy. Considering that he had Iruka – sweet, kind, intelligent, funny, passionate Iruka – he should have been deliriously happy. Wasn’t that how that worked? Didn’t everyone get a period of carefree happiness when they started dating someone? That same phase that Kurenai and Asuma had been stuck in practically since the Academy even if they denied it?

How was Kakashi managing to fuck up being happy?

Not that he wasn’t happy. Because he was. But in this moment, alone with Iruka in the safety of his home, he was certain that what he should have been feeling was some kind of bliss. And instead, he just felt weird. Like he was an actor in a costume, playing someone else’s role. Like this wasn’t where Iruka lived, but a collection of props and fakes on a stage meant to convey a home rather than actually being one.

It was as if his own mind was adamant to remind him that none of this was for the likes of him. That it wasn’t real because it couldn’t be.

He glanced over at Iruka who remained perfectly oblivious to his mental maelstrom. He seemed to be at ease and entirely focused on his hobby, looking between the book and his work, putting careful ink-strokes to paper in lines and loops.

Kakashi wondered whether he was supposed to do something. Things like this still didn’t come easy to him. There was a chance that, since Iruka was the one actively working on something and he was just reading, he was supposed to start something. Like striking up a conversation. Or getting involved in what Iruka was doing. But then, if Iruka expected something like that of him, he probably would have told him, right? He was usually reliably vocal when there was something he wanted.

Unless Kakashi had already messed up somehow and the reason Iruka was being silent was that Kakashi was being given the silent treatment. Iruka’s back was turned to him so he could have been scowling at the paper for an hour without Kakashi noticing, waiting for an apology.

Not that Kakashi would have known what to apologize for. He suppressed a sigh. There were too many variables. In Icha Icha, people always just sort of knew how to interact with one another. They knew what to say and what to do and if they didn’t, it was treated as endearing inexperience. All of that was probably the most fantastical element in those stories. Here, in harsh reality, Kakashi had to figure things out the difficult way.

He sat up slowly, considering his options. Perhaps it was best to break the silence after all. Keeping it was getting him nowhere. He looked at Iruka and decided to go for something inoffensive. “Want some tea?”

“Hm?” It took a moment for Iruka to respond properly. “Oh, if you’re making some, I’ll take a cup,” he said, not turning away from his project.

Well, that was a vague answer. Kakashi hadn’t planned on making any if Iruka didn’t want it but it sounded like Iruka only wanted some if Kakashi made it for himself. It was going to be awkward not to make it now, though. So he got up from the couch and meandered over to the kitchen. He got out everything that he needed to make tea and filled a kettle to put on before waiting for the water to boil.

“Did you find everything?” Iruka called out after a moment.

“Yes,” Kakashi replied. Iruka said nothing else.

Kakashi waited by the kettle. Once the water boiled, he started to prepare green tea in Iruka’s favorite teapot – one with a lovely, slightly wonky-looking sunflower pattern. Iruka had once said that he’d gotten from a local artist. He favored this one over his other, plain teapot, even though it had the tendency to spill a little whenever it was used. Kakashi waited while the tea steeped. As he did, he became extremely aware of how he was just standing there. A shinobi. In the kitchen of a cozy home. Next to a sunflower teapot. Waiting for tea. How weird.

He told himself to get a grip.

When the tea was done, Kakashi brought the teapot and two mugs out to the living room. He filled one and set it within Iruka’s reach and Iruka thanked him with a kind word and a quick glance. He noticed the sunflower teapot and smiled briefly before turning his attention back to his project.

Kakashi filled a mug for himself, picked it up and sat back on the couch with it, since he had nowhere else to reasonably be. He stared at the mug. The mug didn’t match the sunflower teapot. Neither of the mugs did. Iruka used to have one matching mug, Kakashi knew, but he had broken it and was still chagrined over the loss. Kakashi’s mug had a blue wave pattern on it. He stared at the tea inside of it. Then he looked at Iruka.

This hadn’t accomplished anything.

Kakashi grimaced since Iruka couldn’t see it. He didn’t know what he had expected to change but he’d thought that some interaction was going to do something about the awful strangeness lingering in his bones.

He stared back at his tea. It didn’t have any answers for him but staring at it was just as good as doing anything else.

Kakashi wasn’t used to this. Being a welcome guest in someone’s home, especially for an extended period of time, was a rarity. He was even less used to that someone being a kind of lover. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was. What he was meant to do with himself. Or with Iruka in this particular situation. He knew how to handle cooking and conversations and dinners and sex. But this situation put him at a complete loss. There was no intent or direction. There was no goal or desired outcome other than maybe for Iruka to make progress on his project.

It made Kakashi feel a little bit like he had before Iruka had become a permanent fixture in his life. When he’d spent his time in Konoha idling away, feeling useless and out of place and itching to go on a mission to replace that feeling with something else.

Perhaps that was the problem. He was sort of out of place in their whatever-they-had. But he didn’t want to be. He tried to think about what he’d seen other couples – or people who dated – do. But he’d never been privy to their home life. Unless, of course, he’d been sent to observe and most likely also assassinate at least one of them. But he’d rarely been focused on social dynamics in those circumstances.

His lack of experience didn’t have to matter, he figured. He had vowed to be worthy of Iruka. That meant he had to at least try.

“How’s your project going?” he asked, leaning over to investigate without getting up.

“Not as great as I would like,” Iruka confessed.

“Something giving you trouble?”

Iruka hummed. “A bit. But I’ll figure it out. And it will be worth it.”

“What was it you were working on again?” Kakashi pried, hoping to catch Iruka off-guard.

“Nice try. But you’ll have to be patient to find out,” Iruka chided in a playful tone.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious.”

Iruka made a noise of acknowledgement, but he was already getting absorbed by his work again, his eyes glued to the text of his book before he turned a page.

Kakashi clutched his mug. Apparently, Iruka wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. At least he knew for sure that Iruka wasn’t upset with him. He probably expected Kakashi to go back to reading. But as Kakashi glanced at his book on the couch, he really didn’t feel like trying that again. Perhaps he could take a nap? Although that seemed odd, too. Just going to sleep in Iruka’s living room while Iruka was right there. Kakashi looked around, but everything was the same as it always was.

Back to looking at the tea it was. Kakashi was doing nothing. And yet it felt like he was doing everything wrong.

No, he couldn’t let himself think like that. He wanted to be good at this. He’d acquired an army’s worth of skills in his lifetime. He could acquire this one. He just had to think of this differently. His objective was making Iruka happy. So what was the strategy to get there?

“Are you hungry?” Kakashi asked after a moment of deliberation. “I was thinking about getting us something to eat.”

“Nothing for me, thank you.”

So much for that. Kakashi wished that there were guidebooks for this kind of thing. Iruka picked up his mug and took an absentminded sip. Kakashi finally put his own mug aside. He hadn’t wanted any tea in the first place.

The feeling of strangeness persisted. Was it just him who was being odd or was there actually something wrong?

Feeling so strange, so out of place, his confused instincts, the impression that things were not real.

Was this genjutsu?

Kakashi stilled at the thought. When a genjutsu was either subpar or being maintained for too long, cracks could start to show. Little hints and feelings that indicated to the victim that what they were experiencing was not reality. Sometimes, it could become obvious that one’s mind was in a fabrication. Other times, it was more subtle. Just a hunch, maybe. A gut feeling. Just like now.

It was very possible, maybe even likely, that Kakashi had never actually returned from his last mission. That, instead, an enemy nin had managed to catch him in a genjutsu, forcing him to believe that he had returned home. They didn’t even necessarily need to know what home was supposed to look like or that Iruka was supposed to be there, some genjutsu relied on nudges alone, letting the victim’s brain and memories do the rest.

Hesitant but knowing that he had to find out what was going on, Kakashi raised his hand, formed the sign and whispered.

“Kai.”

-

Iruka stopped reading.

He turned around to stare at Kakashi whose hand was still raised from an attempted dispel. He looked surprised to find Iruka gazing up at him.

Iruka had been vaguely aware that Kakashi had been a little off, but he’d chalked it up to residual stress from his last mission which had only ended the night before. He had figured that being in a safe environment was eventually going to mellow Kakashi out a bit, allowing him to relax and recenter and settle.

Seeing as he had just tried to do a kai-release, Iruka had probably miscalculated.

“Did you just try to release a genjutsu?” Iruka asked although the answer was pretty obvious.

Kakashi eyed him as he slowly lowered his hand. His gaze slid away. “Maybe.”

Iruka pressed his lips together for a moment before asking, “Why?”

Kakashi sighed in that way he did when he really didn’t want to explain himself. Iruka gave him a moment to find his words. “I thought maybe I was still on my last mission.”

“Ah. I see,” Iruka said gently. He got up and sat beside Kakashi on the couch, hopefully to offer some comfort with his presence. What Kakashi was experiencing was a well-known phenomenon among field shinobi, especially those that took on particularly demanding missions. Sometimes it took a while for the mission brain to turn off and the normal person brain to turn back on. Iruka imagined that Kakashi wasn’t the first shinobi to worry that a safe environment was just an illusion. “Can I do anything to help? To assure you that you’re really here?”

“No,” Kakashi replied and looked back at him. “The fact that you didn’t disappear just now is proof enough.”

“Okay.” Iruka didn’t want to press but Kakashi still seemed uncomfortable. “Is something else bothering you? Do you need anything?”

“Not really. Everything’s fine.”

‘Fine’ probably should have been removed from Kakashi’s vocabulary at some point. He tended to abuse that word just a bit too much. “You really don’t seem fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, you can tell me. But don’t tell me that you’re fine when you’re not.”

Kakashi hesitated. “I feel somewhat... out of sorts. But I don’t think it’s related to the mission.”

“Out of sorts? In what way?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi shrugged. “Hard to describe.”

Well, that didn’t help. He supposed he was glad that Kakashi was making an effort to communicate his issues at all, though.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like anything is wrong,” Kakashi added.

“It matters if it’s bothering you,” Iruka countered.

Kakashi glanced at him but he quickly looked away again. Iruka was suddenly struck by the memory of how some of his students held themselves when they realized that the answer they had given in class was incorrect. It was very much toned down in Kakashi, but since Iruka knew what to look for, he detected the discomfort and uncertainty.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Iruka amended. “But we can if you think it might help.”

Kakashi remained quiet for another moment. “I feel strange but I can’t place why,” he said. “And I’m not sure what’s expected of me.”

“Expected of you?”

Kakashi risked looking at Iruka. “I thought you might want me to do something in particular. If you did, I don’t know what it is.”

That painted somewhat of a clearer picture of Kakashi’s distress. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just for you to enjoy yourself. I thought you were content reading.”

Kakashi’s eye lingered on him for a bit before he looked away again. “I see.”

Iruka put a hand on Kakashi’s thigh, hoping to reassure him. “You know you could have just asked me, right?”

A half-hearted shrug. “It seemed like a stupid thing to ask.” Another sigh. “I’m not used to being out of my depth like this. And it’s worse that you’re here to see all of it.”

“Well, if it helps, I’m not really good at any of this, either.”

Kakashi turned to him with a raised eyebrow, visibly surprised.

Iruka smiled and elaborated, “it’s been a while since I’ve properly dated anybody. So I’m figuring it all out again, too.”

“I thought you were something of an expert.”

That startled a laugh out of Iruka. “On romance? No. I’ve mostly dated around. I guess there’s one or two people I’d consider actual exes but neither of those relationships lasted long or were all that great.”

Kakashi hummed. “Did they have annoying habits?” he guessed, clearly trying for levity.

“Well, one of them was always chewing gum far too loudly,” Iruka recounted, playing into the levity. “But aside from that, we just didn’t fit well together. My first ex and I clashed in some ways that were pretty unhealthy in hindsight. And the other one and I just wanted different things in life.”

Kakashi seemed to consider that. But whatever he thought about it, he didn’t say.

“You said you’ve never had a relationship, right? Have you ever dated?” Iruka asked, hoping that Kakashi was going to be able to shake off that feeling of weirdness with some conversation.

“No. It’s really just been the physical so far. Dating never seemed... important. Or realistic. Until now.” Kakashi looked at him meaningfully.

Iruka squeezed his thigh. “Well then I’m happy to be the one to change that. Now if only I could let everyone else who’s interested in you know that you’re unavailable ...”

Kakashi tilted his head. “Who would that be?”

“Plenty of people?” Iruka asked. “Mostly women, I guess. But I’ve overheard more than once that someone would like to spend a night with you.”

“Huh.”

“You never knew?”

Kakashi’s expression shuttered a little. “I- I know someone had a crush on me when I was young. But that was- It was a long time ago,” he offered, more subdued than he had been before and Iruka could tell that they were talking around something that had left a wound.

Iruka knew that while things were getting better, Kakashi wasn’t ready to open up about everything. Which was okay, they had time. So Iruka decided to make it a bit easier and to give Kakashi an out. “Ah, childhood crushes are something else. All of mine are super embarrassing in hindsight.”

“Embarrassing?” Kakashi asked, voice still a little off.

“Yeah,” Iruka kept going. “Let’s see. What were some of the highlights... Ah, when I was five or so there was this boy on the playground whom I had a crush on because he always brought the best snacks to playtime.”

Kakashi snorted.

“It wasn’t a long-lasting love,” Iruka admitted. “Especially when his mom got on a health kick and started monitoring his snacking habits more. My feelings for him went away the day he stopped bringing the whale-shaped rice crackers.”

Kakashi hummed in understanding.

“Then, at the ripe age of seven, there was this boy who always wore the coolest jacket – that one was love at first sight I believe. Until he revealed to a bunch of us that he had a crush on some girl. The worst part was, I think he tried to tell us not to play with her because he wanted to marry her. But I only had eyes for him.”

Kakashi chuckled.

“The next one is very tragic. I was twelve and convinced that I needed to have a crush on a girl, because, supposedly, girls were all cute and sweet or something and a crush on a girl was the thing to have. So I channeled more effort than I care to admit into ‘falling in love’ with one of my former classmates.”

“That went well, I’m sure,” Kakashi quipped.

“Mh, she was not very impressed by my ‘confession’. The worst part was when she asked me what it was I liked about her. A real stumper.”

Kakashi laughed at that.

On a roll and determined to get more of those responses out of Kakashi, Iruka kept going. Not thinking as he started the next story. “But it was nothing compared to when I had the biggest crush on Mizuki. That one’s just humiliating to look back on.” Iruka noticed the twinge in his chest as he brought it up, but it felt good to have it out there, somehow. To talk about it and not be cowed by it in shame or regret.

“Mizuki? The guy who told Naruto to steal that scroll? The one who almost killed you? That Mizuki?”

“Yeah. We were childhood friends. He wasn’t always ... like that.” Or maybe he had been and Iruka had just been blind to it for a long time. He had lost a lot of sleep thinking about that possibility. Too much sleep. More than Mizuki deserved. With a touch of melancholy he hadn’t meant to invite into the conversation, Iruka continued, “he was my best friend for a long time. And there was a time when I thought that he was just the coolest and the best at everything – which is probably exactly what that bastard wanted me to believe – and so I had this crush on him.”

“He didn’t deserve it.”

“He was my first kiss, too.”

Kakashi gaped at him. “He what?”

“He kissed me,” Iruka repeated, the bitter memory suddenly fresh and present in his mind. It had been as awkward as first kisses were supposed to be, full of childish innocence and big butterflies. In that, the memory was bittersweet. “Nothing more ever came of it because we had both convinced ourselves that it was an ‘experiment’ or something stupid like that, but it was definitely a first kiss.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Kakashi growled after a moment and killing intent began to seep out from him.

“He’s already rotting in prison. There’s no need for you to go and finish him off.”

“No need perhaps, but plenty of reason.”

Iruka laughed. “You’re going to avenge my first kiss?”

“If I could get away with it, I’d avenge much more than that,” Kakashi said seriously and looked at Iruka intently.

“I appreciate that, but if your killing intent gets any stronger we might get some unwanted company,” Iruka pointed out as he felt the waves of aggression radiating off his lover. Iruka wasn’t weak, he didn’t need someone to avenge or defend him. He’d told Kakashi as much once. But in this case, it actually felt nice. To have the legendary Copy Nin get angry on his behalf because of someone like Mizuki. To have that fierce loyalty shown to him in Kakashi’s aggression and protectiveness.

Iruka was almost disappointed that Mizuki was never going to be confronted with the fact that Sharingan Kakashi now hated him on a personal level.

Kakashi looked at him and blushed a little, deflating somewhat as the killing intent vanished. “Sorry.”

Some of his strange mood must have dissipated over the course of their conversation. Iruka was glad for it. Whatever weirdness Kakashi had experienced, it was sure to fade as he got more used to being with Iruka.

“That’s okay,” Iruka said easily. “Now, I believe you offered to get takeout a while ago? Mind if I tag along?”

That night Kakashi stayed over.

Iruka was over the moon as he laid down to rest beside his lover, already giddy at the prospect of waking up next to him in the morning. Iruka was going to have to go to the Academy but he’d set his alarm a little earlier so that he could get in at least half an hour of cuddle time before he had to get up.

With that in mind, sleep claimed him, pulling him under into a gentle, restful world of largely nonsensical dreams.

An undeterminable amount of time later, strange impressions disturbed his sleep. And Iruka’s consciousness began to flicker in and out as he became aware that he was dreaming. Then he felt movement beside him and his training made his eyes snap open in alarm.

He sat up, a kunai already in his hand, as he squinted into the darkness surrounding him to perceive the threat.

But as another round of sounds and movement reached him, he realized that there wasn’t any danger at all. He looked to his side, where Kakashi was still asleep, illuminated by a beam of moonlight that slipped in through a crack in the curtains. He was mumbling, murmuring, making sounds that Iruka could not understand but knew spoke of something haunting his dreams. Concern clutched Iruka’s heart as he watched his lover’s brows knit, as he saw him twisting and turning.

Pained by his lover’s distress, Iruka put away his weapon and leaned a little closer.

There were lots of recommendations about when to wake a sleeping jōnin, most of them stating not to do it if it was at all avoidable. Distantly, Iruka remembered some lecture about ‘instinctive panic responses’, but it was far away and unimportant in the face of Kakashi’s suffering. What mattered much more was to soothe, to comfort. To cast aside the shadows and nightmares.

So Iruka reached out. He gently touched Kakashi’s shoulder, the softest brush of fingertips against clammy skin.

Kakashi bolted up in alarm. His eyes were wide. His chest was heaving. His body was tense as a bowstring.

“It’s okay,” Iruka immediately said, scooting back to give Kakashi some space. “You’re okay.”

But Kakashi didn’t look at him. He kept staring straight ahead, at nothing at all. Both of his eyes wide open and panicked. His own grey one and the spinning sharingan that glowed ominously against the dark backdrop of Iruka’s bedroom.

“Kakashi?” Iruka asked, hands hovering but not touching. He’d never seen Kakashi like this. He didn’t know what he needed. “Kakashi, it’s alright. You’re safe,” he tried. “It was a nightmare.”

Slowly, Kakashi turned to him. His eyes looked wild and he looked utterly harrowed. Haunted. Like he wasn’t looking at Iruka but right through him. At something that Iruka was never going to be able to see.

“You’re in my home,” Iruka offered. “And you’re safe.”

Kakashi blinked at that and his eyes seemed to focus. He stared at Iruka, though there was still a lack of comprehension in his expression that was deeply concerning. He was shaking, too, Iruka noted. Trembling all over. Then, he lowered his gaze. Iruka followed it and found Kakashi staring at his own hands, which he had raised slightly, palms facing upward. There was nothing unusual about them. They were pale and lightly calloused, with scarred remnants of old injuries. But to Kakashi, they appeared to be things of complete horror.

“Your hands are fine,” Iruka said softly and drew a little closer, hoping to be a comforting presence during whatever Kakashi was going through. “And you will be fine, too. You’re with me. In my home. In my bed.”

Kakashi stared at his hands for another moment and Iruka’s heart clenched painfully as he saw just how much his fingers trembled. The ones on Kakashi’s right hand, especially. But then, slowly, as if it took all the effort in the world, Kakashi looked away from them and back at Iruka again. “Iruka,” he said and his voice was rough.

Iruka smiled reassuringly. “Yes. I’m here.”

Kakashi’s eyes darted over his face as if absorbing the different parts of his features. When he appeared to be satisfied that it really was Iruka who was with him, he turned his attention back to his trembling hands. He was still holding them out above the blanket as if he couldn’t let them touch the fabric.

“You had a nightmare,” Iruka said again in case Kakashi hadn’t heard it before – something that seemed increasingly more likely. “But you’re awake now. And everything is okay and safe, alright?”

Kakashi clenched his hands to fists before opening them again. He appeared to be unable to tear his gaze away once more.

“Can you hear me, Kakashi?” Iruka asked softly.

It took a moment as Kakashi worked his mouth until a response came out. “Yes,” he said though it didn’t sound quite right. It sounded distracted. Like Kakashi’s hands were more important.

“That’s good. Can you tell me what you need? Would you like for me to turn the lights on? Or would you like to be held?”

“I- I can’t-,” Kakashi stuttered and he held his hands away from Iruka protectively. Not to protect his hands. But as if to protect Iruka from whatever it was he thought was in or on them.

“That’s okay,” Iruka assured quickly. “We don’t need to touch, that’s okay. Whatever you need.”

“Bathroom,” Kakashi then choked out and he looked around panicked as if he had forgotten where the door was. When he spotted it, he stumbled to his feet.

“The bathroom?” Iruka asked.

“Yes,” Kakashi said as he got out of bed. He was dressed in just his underwear but if he was at all cold, he probably didn’t have the capacity to do something about it. Kakashi normally moved with such grace. It felt wrong to see him nearly stumbling as he left. He kept holding his hands up, trying to touch as few things as possible.

Iruka got out of bed as well and followed him to the door only to watch Kakashi make his way to the bathroom where he shut himself in. Then, there was the sound of running water.

Concerned, but not wanting to intrude, Iruka lingered in the doorway of the bedroom for a few moments. When it became apparent that whatever Kakashi was taking care of was going to take a bit longer, he retreated. He turned on the bedside lamp. His gaze fell onto Kakashi’s twisted sheets. He must have had a pretty bad nightmare to have woken up like that.

Iruka was no stranger to bad nightmares. He’d had his fair share of them and he’d witnessed Naruto having some awful ones, too.

But he’d never experienced something quite like this. Kakashi had looked shell-shocked, barely even present and nearly unable to understand where he was or whom he was with. It had been terrifying to witness.

And then there had been the obsession with his hands. Iruka had some ideas about what that could have been about, but he wasn’t going to presume to know.

Feeling a slight chill in the air, Iruka decided to put on some sleep clothes. He considered making some tea to settle Kakashi’s nerves but he wasn’t sure whether hearing Iruka puttering around the apartment could unsettle him even more.

So Iruka just sat back down on the bed, waiting for Kakashi to return. Minutes passed and the sound of the sink was all Iruka could focus on. With each second that went by, his worry only grew.

-

The blood wasn’t coming off.

Kakashi hadn’t really expected it to. It never washed off. But against all rationality and experiences, he tried anyway. Scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. Waiting for it to go away. He always tried so desperately. Because he could feel the heat of it on his hands and how it was slowly cooling down. He felt the tackiness, the way it was clinging to each line and wrinkle of his skin. It probably wasn’t actually blood. But it was blood in all the ways that mattered.

Except that it wasn’t washing off.

The rushing water of the sink was like static to Kakashi’s brain and he tried to focus on the sound of it or on the feeling of the growing moisture in the air. He tried to tear his mind away from the sight before him. But he couldn’t.

After all, there was blood on his hands.

He knew that it wasn’t real, just like the images that were so freshly burned into the forefront of his mind weren’t real. But they had been once. Some of them, at least. Some of them were the true sharingan-perfect recreations of the day he’d murdered her. The day he had broken his promise to him. Other images had been the twisted, conjured fabrications of his brain. His fears, hopefully not his future, taken to extremes. The blood wasn’t just hers anymore, now. And as it dripped and dripped and dripped, never becoming less, Kakashi felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he remembered whose blood this also was. Whose blood this also easily could become.

Kakashi leaned heavily on the sink with his elbows as the water kept running and as he kept scrubbing. He wanted to dunk his head under the stream to maybe finally wash the thoughts out of his brain. He wanted to run a bath and submerge himself entirely in its scalding embrace, never to draw breath again.

These weren’t serious considerations. They were thoughts that were loyal to his nightmares, always following them like dutiful soldiers to keep Kakashi’s breath from finding its rhythm or his heart from slowing to its normal pace.

Time was a foreign concept in this moment. It always was when he was washing his hands. It had slipped away, seconds contorting and stretching into hours that were gone in the blink of an eye. Kakashi spent too much and not enough time with his hands under the hot stream, his mind hazy and full of things that were only half-real. He wasn’t quite there. Detached. As if his dream had yanked him back in time, making him thirteen with her heart stuttering its last beat in his hand.

As if reality had never been real at all.

There was a knock on the door. It was gentle but urgent.

“Kakashi? Are you okay in there?”

It was Iruka. Kakashi was horrified to realize that he’d forgotten that Iruka was out there, probably waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Should I come in?” Iruka asked. “Do you need anything? It’s okay if you want your space, I just need to know that you’re alright.”

Kakashi stared at the door with his hands still in the sink and he tried to find something he could say. He felt as though he had swallowed his tongue. His mouth was barren of words. He worked the muscles of his jaw a few times before he could finally force out a sentence. “I am fine. I will be out soon.”

There was a pause and Kakashi feared that Iruka was going to demand entry. And that he was then going to see him like this. A mess with scrubbed red hands and a soul and self that were shattered into pieces. It had become one of Kakashi’s worst fears – that Iruka was going to see the truth of him and recoil in horror and disgust.

But Iruka didn’t try to enter. “Okay,” he said hesitantly. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” What followed was the soft sound of retreating footsteps. Likely a deliberate set of noise made for Kakashi’s benefit.

Kakashi looked back at his abused hands. They were still stained. Kakashi forced himself to turn off the water.

Iruka had never seen him like this before. Kakashi had hoped that it was going to stay that way. Though he had always somewhat known that this was going to be inevitable.

He sighed as he dared to look in the mirror. He was a ghastly sight. Pale to the point of looking sickly with a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Purple bruises clung to the spaces below his eyes. He looked like a ghost. Like something that had long since ceased to be human and could hardly be mistaken for one.

He tore his gaze away. He tried to breathe through it, to rid himself of that feeling of otherness. He tried to focus on the cool surface of the sink pressing against his arms, the sensation of the chilled tile against the soles of his feet. The faint scent of some washing or skin care product that hung in the air. He tried all the things that he’d been told he was supposed to do in this situation. But to no avail. And he didn’t dare to try to take stock of his own body – the way he had once been instructed to do. He was too afraid of what he was going to find there if he did.

Kakashi hung his head, a heavy thing, weighed down by shame. He’d done a fine job pretending with Iruka. He’d done enough right that Iruka had believed that he was someone worthwhile. Perhaps a little cracked, a little damaged. But who wasn’t, in this world?

But this changed things. Such an outburst, such an inhuman reaction to nothing but phantoms showed the true nature of Kakashi’s self. That he wasn’t just a bit scuffed from years of service, but that he had become a truly broken thing. His humanity lay in shambles, as it had for years, leaving only the sharp weapon he’d forged himself to become. He was unfit for human interaction, for bonds and kindness. Iruka had asked to help him restore his humanity. What if he found out that it was well beyond repair? That Kakashi wasn’t just a bit distant sometimes but something that gasped awake in escape of a nightmare only to shake apart right after?

Kakashi closed his eyes. Iruka was a kind and good person. Too good for most and definitely too good for him. Why someone like that had ever given him a chance was beyond Kakashi. But even Iruka’s patience was going to run out.

It was as though each broken piece of him was on display, put on a scale to be weighed against whatever it was that Iruka saw in him. And this – this messy, ruined part of him that had been festering in his soul for well over a decade – this was going to bring that scale to its tipping point.

It had to. No one wanted to be torn out of their sleep in the middle of the night for nothing. Iruka had class in the morning. He couldn’t afford to be kept awake by the demons that Kakashi should have vanquished years ago. By the sins he never should have committed in the first place.

Was Iruka going to be angry with him? Probably not, he hadn’t sounded angry just then. More likely, he was going to be painfully understanding and kind when he asked Kakashi to leave and never sleep over again.

And Kakashi was going to. Without question or hesitation, because he had already stolen so much from Iruka and he didn’t dare to take any more.

He stood up straight and avoided looking at the pale ghost in the mirror. Iruka was waiting for him. Iruka had to get up early in the morning. Kakashi was wasting his time. So he steeled himself, tried to draw on his training to put on the aloof mask that protected him from showing too much and the world from having to see him. It didn’t really fit right.

Willing himself not look at his hands again, he unlocked the bathroom door and went back out. The apartment was silent. Light poured into the hallway from the open bedroom door. It looked inviting. But it felt like something dreadful lying in wait for him. Kakashi approached.

He found Iruka sitting on the bed, clad in sleepwear that he hadn’t gone to sleep in the evening before. He had apparently been lost in thought but looked up when Kakashi appeared in the doorway. His expression was full of concern, though it did relax a bit when Kakashi met his eyes.

“There you are,” Iruka said softly.

Kakashi nodded. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. He normally only had nightmares when he was alone and didn’t have to explain himself. There was one person who had ever seen him in a similar state and that person was Tenzō and Tenzō had enough terrors in his own head to understand Kakashi’s without words. “Sorry for waking you,” Kakashi said because it felt like the best start.

Iruka shook his head with dismissal. “No need to apologize.”

“You have school in the morning,” Kakashi pointed out.

“I know. But that’s not important right now.”

Kakashi looked at his clothes strewn around the floor. Asking whether Iruka wanted him gone seemed so utterly pathetic and pitiful that he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Instead, he started to gather his garments quietly.

“What are you doing?” Iruka asked, getting up from the bed as he spoke.

“Leaving.”

“That’s not necessary,” Iruka said and when Kakashi glanced at him he saw a deep frown. “Or- Do you want to leave?”

Kakshi paused. It seemed right to leave. To allow Iruka to get some rest. To allow himself to go home and lick his wounds in solitude. But the space beside Iruka was warm and comforting and Kakashi’s shoebox apartment was the opposite. He stared at the clothes in his hand. “I should.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Iruka pointed out gently. He walked over to Kakashi. He took the clothes from his arms and Kakashi didn’t resist. He let Iruka take them, fold them and put them aside while Kakashi just stood there, unmoving. Then Iruka came back. “Can I touch you?”

“Always.”

Iruka gently took his hands, Kakashi resisted the urge to pull them away. The blood wasn’t real. Iruka wasn’t going to be stained. The blood wasn’t real. But what if it was?

“Stay with me,” Iruka said quietly into the space between them. “I want you to.”

And Kakashi was helpless to those words. His own home suddenly seemed miles and miles away, impossible to reach when his palms were warmed by Iruka’s. Iruka seemed to sense this thought and he gently led him back to the bed so that they could sit down beside each other. “I should go,” Kakashi said dumbly as if in resistance to himself as he sat down.

“No,” Iruka replied. “You should be here. With me.”

Kakashi didn’t reply. He stared at his red and scrubbed raw hand in Iruka’s. Pink and damaged but no longer blood red, at least to his eyes. But Kakashi still felt like the blood was there, sticky and tacky between their palms. He wanted to pull away before Iruka’s skin could become tainted.

“I want to help,” Iruka said. “But I don’t know how.”

Kakashi remained silent, unsure of what to say. Telling Iruka that he couldn’t felt somehow callous when Iruka was already doing far more than he was supposed to. But at the same time, there was nothing he could ask for or suggest.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Iruka offered.

He felt like he owed Iruka that much. But Iruka’s offer had sounded like just that – an offer. Something he could turn down if he wanted to. “Don’t know.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Kakashi wanted to pull himself together. To come out and say enough to satisfy Iruka’s curiosity and his justified want for an explanation. To speak normally and not in murmurs and ellipses. But at the same time, he was scared of what Iruka was going to think if he found out. And all the things stuck in his head were things he had never had to put proper words to. It seemed impossible that speech could contain the horrors of his past. So now he was stuck having put Iruka in this miserable situation. With no way out.

But Iruka was not so easily deterred. After he lingered beside Kakashi for a long moment of silence, he spoke up. “I used to dream a lot about the kyūbi attack,” he volunteered out of nowhere, directing the words into the room rather than at Kakashi specifically. “They were pretty bad nightmares. Some were more realistic than others. But the end result was always the same. The same loss. I woke up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I cried because it felt like I’d just lost someone again and sometimes I was so sure that there was an alarm sounding and that there was chaos outside. I thought I could hear the commotion. There never was anything, of course.”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka as he spoke.

“I tried lots of things. Chamomile and valerian before bed. Mediation. Breathing techniques. Some of it helped, some of it didn’t. It’s rare now, but sometimes I still wake up thinking we’re in a state of emergency. Or sometimes I’ll wake up thinking I need to get out and stop Mizuki.” He paused. “I doubt it’ll ever completely go away. But I’ve found some things that make me feel better.” He looked at Kakashi. “If you’re interested?”

Kakashi hesitated. Then, he nodded.

Iruka gave him a soft smile in return. “Sometimes I read just to take my mind off of things. Other times it helps to make a cup of tea. I usually tend to narrate every step of it to myself out loud, even though that makes me sound a bit insane. It helps to focus on something mundane. And when it’s really bad, I make myself get dressed and I go out to take a walk and count how many street lamps I walk past or how many windows still have the lights on.”

“A walk sounds nice,” Kakashi said quietly after a moment of thinking about it. He was full of restless energy and directing it outwards seemed like a solid idea.

“Alright. Then let’s do that,” Iruka said and got up.

“You’ll come with?” Kakashi asked and he hated how tiny and pathetic the request sounded.

“Only if you want me to,” Iruka replied.

“I do.”

Iruka nodded. “Then let’s go.”

Kakashi followed suit. They got dressed in silence and Kakashi was a good enough shinobi to notice that Iruka was keeping an eye on him. Normally he would have found the surveillance oppressive, but in this instance it gave him some measure of comfort. It felt like so much to be responsible for his own breathing and his own heartbeat continuing that it helped to share the responsibility with someone else.

Kakashi wanted to leave through the window in a henge but as soon as he tried to mold chakra, his fingers began to tingle unpleasantly with the crackle of lightning and he heard her voice whispering his name all over again.

Iruka seemed to notice that he wasn’t going to be able to disguise himself and gently guided him to the door with promises that it was going to be okay.

So they left together. It was the dead of night and the streets were empty. The air was crisp and cool with the promise of colder nights yet to come. For a while they just walked side by side. Kakashi felt aimless, so he let Iruka take the lead. He tried desperately not to think about how much time Iruka was spending on him, how every step brought them closer to dawn and to Iruka having to get up and go to the Academy completely exhausted and drained because of him.

“We could sit down here if you like,” Iruka said and Kakashi looked over to see a bench overlooking a small park with a pond.

“Okay,” Kakashi agreed.

So they sat. Iruka looked up. “The sky’s so clear tonight.”

Kakashi followed his gaze to look up at the twinkling stars. It was a beautiful night. If only Kakashi hadn’t gone and ruined it. He tensed at the thought. Iruka must have noticed because a hand appeared on top of his thigh. Just like it had that afternoon. Supportive and kind and grounding.

They sat there in silence for a while. Kakashi felt like the world was holding its breath. Waiting. He knew that Iruka wasn’t, he knew that he could ask Iruka to leave or tell him he was going home or any number of things and Iruka was going to let him. But he also knew that Iruka was spending his own precious time to be there with him. That he worried and cared so much that the reality of the next morning had been swiftly ignored in favor of being there for Kakashi that night.

“I killed someone precious to me,” Kakashi blurted out and he immediately wished he hadn’t.

But the shock or revulsion that Kakashi had dreaded never came. Iruka only turned his head slightly to indicate that he was paying attention. Other than that, he let Kakashi speak.

“It was a long time ago,” Kakashi added because it felt important to say. Only then did he realize that Iruka probably already knew this story because it had earned Kakashi a rather hateful and widespread nickname. But Iruka didn’t know the details. He couldn’t have. Everyone who had known them, except for Kakashi, had died. “She was a member of my genin team.”

Iruka looked at him, face neutral. Yet more space and time being given.

“The other member died during the war. He sacrificed his life for mine and gave me a gift,” Kakashi said and gently touched the closed eyelid hiding his sharingan. He lowered the hand again. “And then she- She died by my hand. And sometimes I kill her again, in my dreams. She keeps dying, impaled on my arm. And-” Kakashi swallowed. “And when I wake up, her blood is still there.” He looked at his hands.

Iruka was still observing him and Kakashi’s heart pounded with anxiety, waiting for judgment to fall upon him. But Iruka didn’t deliver it. He didn’t scowl or sneer, his demeanor didn’t turn icy or disgusted. Instead, his hand gripped Kakashi’s thigh a bit more tightly and his face was sorrowful. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was my job to protect her,” Kakashi said because he had to make Iruka understand. “I promised- And I didn’t. I killed her instead.”

Iruka’s brows knit further together and he leaned a little closer. “I’m so sorry that that happened to you.”

Kakashi stared at Iruka, bewildered. ‘Happened to him’? Nothing had happened to him. He had happened to her, to Rin. He had happened to Obito, who would have still been alive if Kakashi hadn’t been such an asshole back then. Or if he hadn’t been saved. But as he looked at Iruka’s sad brown eyes – sad for his sake and his sake alone – he couldn’t bring himself to say any of that. To insist on his own guilt and to make Iruka understand how awful he was. It felt like Iruka was looking into the depths of him, inspecting his soul and seeing something that even Kakashi was blind to.

Iruka didn’t ask for details that he could dissect and evaluate. He didn’t ask Kakashi to explain why. Or what exactly had happened. He didn’t try to condemn him or to excuse him. He did none of that, Kakashi realized, because he had faith in him. So much faith that he wasn’t going to blame him. Iruka’s judgment had already happened a long time ago and he had judged him favorably. The rest was faith and trust.

“I’m sorry for troubling you with this,” Kakashi said because he didn’t know what else to say. The magnitude of Iruka’s faith was overwhelming. It was all he could think about.

“Don’t apologize,” Iruka said. “You’re not troubling me with anything. You’re suffering and I’m there for you because I want to be.”

“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.”

“Yeah, probably. But that’s worth it if it means I can be there for someone who matters so much to me.”

Kakashi looked into Iruka’s eyes. There was no deception there. No hyperbole, either. Iruka was being earnest and genuine.

“It’s what you’d do for me, isn’t it?” Iruka asked.

Kakashi blinked and such a thing wasn’t even a question in his mind. “Yes.”

Iruka smiled. “Then let me do the same for you.”

Kakashi’s inner demons revolted at the idea. They told him that he had to handle this by himself. That he couldn’t let it taint Iruka. That it was his responsibility and his responsibility alone.

But as he looked at Iruka’s face, his gentle eyes and his kind smile, he thought that maybe, those demons were nothing but liars. Iruka had seen it, finally. This ugly side of him. His past sins outlined and presented for Iruka to scrutinize. And yet, he was there. Right there, with that unwavering faith.

And Kakashi felt more foolish than he ever had for even thinking about running away.

Because why would he have ever run away from his true home?

“It’s getting cold,” Iruka said as he shivered lightly. “Shall we head back?”

Kakashi nodded.

“Okay, let’s head home.”

Iruka smiled and it was brighter than all the stars in the sky.

They got up from the bench and started walking back to Iruka’s apartment. “It’s pretty cold for the middle of September,” Iruka griped softly as he rubbed his upper arms.

“The middle-? Oh.”

Iruka looked at Kakashi with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”

Kakashi blinked and thought for moment, counting days in his head. His father’s birthday, then a few days in Konoha, then the mission and now- “I think today is my birthday.”

“What-?!”

“The new today, not yesterday,” Kakashi clarified because they were in the small hours of September 15th.

The rest of the way back had Iruka complaining about Kakashi not telling him ahead of time while also apologizing profusely for not knowing in the first place. Somehow, that little piece of information had never been shared between the two of them.

As Iruka fretted about getting a last-minute cake – or a Kakashi-approved version of a birthday cake, which was going to be even more difficult – and finding a way to make the day special – ‘however that’s supposed to work since I have the Academy and a Mission Desk shift!’ – all Kakashi could think about was how he didn’t deserve him. But how he was glad to have him nonetheless.

Because Iruka truly was his home.

And he was a complete fool for not believing it sooner.

End of Act 1

Chapter Text

The sun shone over Konoha. It had been a lucky spring so far with many days of sunshine and clear skies. That wasn’t out of the ordinary for this time of year but it also wasn’t a given.

Junto recalled a couple of years where he’d spent most of spring waiting for better weather. But now, standing under the blue sky with the warm rays of the sun shining down upon him, he was perfectly content.

He was also on guard duty.

This was no more unusual than the weather, seeing as Junto was always on guard duty. His posts and the specifics of his assignments varied, but it was always guard duty. That sunny spring day, Junto was tasked with guarding the outer entrance of the central armory. It was one of Junto’s preferred postings – not that he had a say in the matter. It wasn’t as good as gate or watchtower duty but a sizeable cut above street patrol of wall surveillance. Generally speaking, Junto was drawn to the assignments that allowed him to people watch. It was like a pastime, observing those around him.

There was just something so interesting about seeing people living their different lives, imagining where they may have been going or where they came from. And there was beauty in their small everyday actions. Junto had always thought this way. It was why his friends’ suggestions to try to tackle ‘more ambitious jobs’ had been falling on deaf ears for over a decade.

The entrance to the armory was on a smaller side street but close enough to the main street connecting to it that Junto could watch the crowds moving.

And with weather this good, there was a lot to see. Lots of people out to enjoy the sun, with their friends or families, chatting amongst themselves as they walked at a leisurely pace. They were overtaken by vendors pushing or pulling carts this or that way. A small group of other shinobi passed, clearly just having come off duty and out to enjoy their free time together.

It was a common thing to see these days – people with smiles, having time to enjoy themselves. It had not been so common just a few short years ago before the large nations had joined into one alliance. Junto had noticed it a while ago, how the movements of the crowds and the public had shifted once Konoha had rebuilt itself after the war. Perhaps everyone felt a bit safer now than they had before.

Just as the thought formed in his mind, someone turned the corner of the street, drawing Junto’s attention. It was a kunoichi. She was dressed in the standard uniform and her dark hair was tied back into a ponytail. She wasn’t armed with anything special or carrying anything particularly noteworthy. Junto didn’t know her but he figured that she was going in for a typical restock – shuriken and kunai, the works.

As she drew closer, he noticed a prominent scar on her left cheek. It must have been quite the wound to have healed that way. Junto wondered what kind of weapon might have left such a mark on her face. Which made him wonder whether she used something other than kunai and shuriken in her day-to-day.

He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring when she noticed him looking at her. But all she did was give him a small smile and an acknowledging nod before she opened the door to the armory and slipped inside. As the door fell shut, Junto’s gaze wandered back out to the street. He wondered what she was going to leave the armory with.

People didn’t leave this place armed to the teeth as they used to. Not most of the time, at least.

Junto didn’t know whether this was a symptom of the peacetimes they now lived in or whether it was a deliberate change based on some kind of decision made by the Rokudaime. But before the whole mess with the Fourth War and the alliance and all that, things had looked much different. This was true for many things but it was also true for the way people armed themselves. For whatever reason.

His friends had mentioned sometime that the mission directions had changed. Since Junto didn’t take field missions and didn’t work in administrations, he had no way of confirming that. He carried a set of standard equipment, nothing more. And he even used that very rarely. If it hadn’t been for attacks on the village making him actually use his weapons, there probably would have been his very first set of shuriken at the bottom of the pouch somewhere, still.

The change in equipment – the one that Junto was largely unaffected by – was something that people had opinions on, he knew. And these opinions ranged from approval to disapproval. Junto thought it was probably a good thing if shinobi needed less weapons. But in general, he didn’t care how many kunai someone was carrying as long as they came back safe from their missions.

Junto’s mother had a bad habit of scolding him for not having enough opinions. It was something that she had been doing for as long as he could remember. Junto had always thought that he didn’t really need to be an opinionated person seeing as his mother had had enough opinions for the whole household and then some. He had never told her as much, of course, because she would have come after him with a raised sandal primed to ‘knock some sense into him’. She had never actually hit him with it. But she had threatened it several times. Junto wondered whether shinobi mothers threatened their unopinionated sons with worse. His mother was a civilian. His father was a shinobi, but he had rarely threatened him – with sandals or other things.

Shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts about his family, Junto went back to observing the people out on the main street. A group of four kids ran by, their laughter loud enough to be heard before and after they were in Junto’s field of view. He could hear them goading each other into a race and getting into people’s ways. It put a small smile on his face. They, too, seemed so careless and free. They could have been civilian kids or pre-genin, Junto couldn’t know.

Next, his eyes landed on a woman and a man, both probably a few years younger than him, walking by. Their hands were entangled, their fingers interlaced and they kept looking at each other and quickly looking away as though they were nervous about it. A couple, Junto assumed. The thought brought his family back to mind.

“You should settle down with a nice girl and start a family,” his mother had told him the last time they had seen each other. “I hear Hachirō-kun’s wife is expecting their second.”

She was. Junto’s childhood friend, Hachirō, had always been better at the whole ‘life’ thing than he had. He’d become a father not too long after the Fourth War had ended and had recently announced to him that he and his wife were going to have another child.

“Then they’ll always have each other,” Hachirō had said with a bright smile as he’d talked about his kids – the toddler and the unborn one.

Junto thought he would have liked to have had a sibling growing up.

But back when Hachirō and him had been kids, things had been different. The Third War had cut deeply into their childhoods. Not to mention the devastating attack of the kyūbi. Or Kurama as he had heard the beast was called. Having more than one kid would have been a luxury, a privilege almost exclusively enjoyed by clan members and civilians, who had different resources for childcare than small shinobi households had had.

Now, things were different. Hachirō had always spoken about having a family with lots of kids, in spite of being a field shinobi. Junto had always hoped the best for him, unlikely as that dream had seemed. And yet, that dream was becoming reality.

Junto didn’t have such dreams – lofty or otherwise. He’d been equipped with woefully few aspirations. But he rather enjoyed the thought of companionship. It was getting increasingly lonely in his apartment. Perhaps he was finally going to take Hachirō up on one of his numerous suggestions to arrange a date for him. Even if meeting new people and learning about them weren’t things that came easily to him.

“Now that there’s peace, it’s the perfect time to find a girlfriend,” Hachirō had said. He’d been saying similar things for a while now.

And it wasn’t entirely wrong, he supposed. Love was somewhat in the air with Naruto’s huge spring wedding not too long in the past.

Junto had actually met Naruto once. That had been back before the whole ‘saving the world’ thing. ‘Met’ was perhaps a generous word for their interaction, but it actually had been an interaction. Junto had been at Ichiraku’s, waiting for his meal when Naruto had come in ordering pork ramen only to look utterly crestfallen when Teuchi had informed him that they were all out. He hadn’t told Junto the same thing when he had ordered his pork ramen, so Junto had figured he must have gotten the last serving. Junto hadn’t really thought about it before offering his portion to the kid, but Naruto had smiled so brightly that Junto hadn’t been able to regret it. He’d even tried to brush it off when Naruto’s company – Umino Iruka, Junto had been pretty sure – had tried to make Naruto pay for Junto’s meal as thanks.

Naruto had seemed like a nice kid.

A nice kid who was younger and had already gotten married when Junto didn’t even have a girlfriend. It was the kind of thing that was maybe supposed to tug on one’s ego, but Junto was unbothered. He could figure things out in his own time. His last girlfriend had joined ANBU sometime before the Fourth War and they had drifted apart afterwards. Junto wondered if she would have married him if she hadn’t taken up the job. Probably not.

He could have probably found someone new if he had put in the effort. He considered himself to be pretty average looking and he didn’t have the most interesting job, but people had told him that his dry sense of humor was funny and he liked to read a lot, so he knew things that other people found interesting. He figured having a kid would be nice, but he didn’t need one to find happiness. He really just wanted someone to have a good time with. Maybe to do some non-mission traveling with. He had always wanted to see the Land of Tea in spring.

Junto rolled his shoulders and stifled a yawn. It really was too pleasant weather to be getting lost in his own head.

The kunoichi he’d seen before emerged from the armory a moment later, a large wrapped weapon strapped to her back that, for all intents and purposes, looked like a strangely shaped battle axe.

Junto’s eyes widened at the size of it. This, he had not expected.

The kunoichi started walking away.

“Um, hey,” Junto called out before he could think better of it and the kunoichi stopped and turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, surprised but not outwardly bothered.

“Hey?”

“I was just wondering- um. That’s- I noticed you have a pretty cool weapon. Is that your specialty?”

She blinked and her face relaxed, something pleased appearing in her features. “Yeah, it is.” She patted the axe over her shoulder. “I normally keep her with me, but she got damaged so I had her fixed up.” She paused and looked him over. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, um, Junto.”

“Nice to meet you, Junto-san. I’m Misa.” She smirked. “You know, if you want a weapon’s demonstration, I’m free all day.”

Junto’s face heated. “I’m off duty in an hour.”

“Great! It’s a date. Shall we say Training Ground 9?” she suggested.