Chapter Text
The end of Hazuki (葉月, "Month of Leaves"; August), six years before Naruto’s graduation
Iruka first meets Naruto when he is sixteen.
It’s barely been a year since they told him that his jōnin-sensei was killed, just a year since he’s been trying to put himself back together, piece by piece. It’s been a new sort of hell, but through gritted teeth and an iron-clad resolve, he has become a freshly minted chūnin and an afternoon sensei at the Academy. He hadn’t expected it, but he finds himself ready to teach with every fiber of his being: in fact, he prepares with all his might for his last exam of the specialized sewa rank that would allow him to teach as a morning sensei. Life is getting slowly better, getting liveable again, less hellish with each passing day.
Then they tell him that the Nine-tails will be under his care, and he feels like it’s all falling apart.
He barely sleeps the night before classes start, keeps seeing those eyes full of hate, keeps feeling his mother’s rattling breaths under his palms, keeps hearing his father’s voice… keeps struggling, again and again, against that unknown shinobi taking him away from those people he should have died with.
Would have been so much better to die with.
He tries to imagine what the child-fox could even look like, this great horrendous creature he hasn’t seen since that horrible night. He’s only ever heard the half-whispers of the other villagers, but he is sure that it must be like one of those manga characters; a humanized fox, or maybe like a normal boy but with fox-tails that it tries to hide. Either way, he thinks, it has to have very evil eyes. (He has little understanding of how the seal works, to be honest.)
The next morning, Iruka enters the classroom with a heavy heart and a grim determination to face the monster incarnate, to take revenge if he can for his parents, for ruining his life, to punish and rage and - and… he finds that Uchikawa-sensei's introductions to the class fade into a background noise... because instead of anything he had imagined, there is only a blond little boy sitting there. He is small, so small, younger and skinnier than the others, and he can’t help but notice how he tries to be loud enough to be seen.
His thoughts falter as his heart begins to yell in rebellion.
Naruto has the sweetest blue eyes.
The end of Satsuki (皐月, "Early-rice-planting Month"; May), four years before Naruto’s graduation
Two years in, when he is just about to be eighteen, the morning sensei - Uchikawa-sensei -, under whom Iruka has been steadily amassing experience retires, and he is booted up into her place as the youngest in the history of the Academy. (Mostly due to budget and staff reasons, honestly.) His afternoon sensei becomes Mizuki, a soft-spoken older man who refused the promotion. He seems kind enough towards Naruto, kinder than anything Iruka would have expected, if a little lax in his teaching.
Naruto.
Having Naruto in his life has changed so many things. It had made Iruka realize how very little he understands the seal by which the fox is contained; so he had dusted off his parents’ books a year ago and now spends his free time in the library, sometimes pestering Sandaime with his questions about fuinjutsu theory at their biweekly meetings where he reports on the boy’s progress. Luckily, the old man humors him, pointing Iruka to more and more scrolls to consult. It makes him think of his father and the scroll he carried on his back, and when he reads, soft memories of brush on paper come back; he cries the first time he recognises the ward against fire as the one his mother used to paint on their door every full moon. It’s sometimes enough to make him never want to look at a seal again.
But he wants to understand how such a small child, with his hay-blond hair and sky-blue eyes, can even live containing in his body such a tremendous evil, so he keeps going.
Not that Naruto is lacking in... vitality. Iruka is also certain that his understanding of karma has by this point surpassed that of any abbot, because Naruto gives him back all the trouble he caused as a student at least twice fold, if not thrice. (But at least he doesn’t have time to think of his jōnin-sensei, or his now dead genin teammates, when he is running around the village yelling at the top of his lungs. So.) Chasing the boy around town becomes a weekly event, a well-rehearsed play filled with yelling, capturing, dragging, punishing, and always, always a meal. This is the most important part; not that the village supplied fare that’s handed out thrice daily in the Academy mess hall is bad, - it’s just, Naruto is so small.
And he just doesn't want his student to die of malnutrition. That’s all.
Really.
The middle of Shiwasu (師走, "Priests Running"; December), three years before Naruto’s graduation
Once, he tracks Naruto to his home, and immediately feels sick to his stomach; what he sees is everything he remembers of Konoha's failing orphanage program, and it brings back vivid memories of pain and loneliness and neglect.
He tells himself (again and again and again) that as his teacher, he absolutely cannot get involved. It would be the end of any semblance of professionalism that Iruka may have, and he’d rather not risk having Naruto taken away into another class, to another teacher who won’t care about why he is so loud, why he keeps misbehaving, or why he is so small.
(He fills up Naruto’s fridge weekly after that, in an operation so covert that ANBU would be proud.)
The end of Satsuki (皐月, "Early-rice-planting Month"; May), two years before Naruto’s graduation
The first time Naruto flunks, Iruka is twenty years old and he panics hard. He knows his colleagues, and none of them can handle the sheer energy the boy gives or their own inhibitions towards him. He knows some of them would even be downright cruel, or would simply graduate him unfit and allow him to come to danger out there, in the bloody sadistic real world Naruto knows nothing about. When Iruka shuts his eyes, his mind shows him images of the boy’s wrecked little body, so he gets another tattoo on his arm, because concentrating on patterns and seals is about the only thing keeping him marginally sane at this point.
Then later that summer, as though by the will of the gods, Natsume-sensei announces her pregnancy, and it's decided that as one of the teachers at the end of their four-year terms, Iruka would take over her class for the remaining two years. They also decide to stick Naruto with the new class, because it is composed of mostly his peers, (and no one outside of Iruka wants to teach him), and allow him another shot at graduation at the end of the year.
He flunks again, but this time, Iruka knows he has one more year, and at least he’ll graduate with children his own age. He has to.
(He begins to pray regularly.)
The end of Satsuki (皐月, "Early-rice-planting Month"; May), the year Naruto graduates
On a not completely unrelated note to Naruto's turbulent graduation, Konoha’s medi-nins do not get enough recognition. They really, honestly don’t, and he isn’t saying this because he knows trace amounts of healing jutsu. No, he is saying this because the amount of small fingers he has seen them reattach over the years to wailing children with absolute finesse is astounding, not to mention the job they did on his back. (Naturally, he got scolded for running about after yanking the shuriken out of himself, especially because someone of his training should really know better on both accounts. He doesn’t mention the strange feeling that had enveloped him after the metal left him, cold and hot and heavy underneath his skin.) Iruka is saying this because he thinks it’s pretty damn amazing that he is discharged two days after the incident, walking and all.
Of course, they were unable to operate the orange ball of worry off his hip, so there is that.
“Iruka-sensei”, Naruto grabs his hand as he whines, forcing him to stop, “the medic said you cannot be walking around. Don’t be a dumbass!”
Iruka sighs, and adjusts his grip on Naruto's hand as he locks his door and puts up his wards. They’ve just dropped his stuff off from the hospital and there is absolutely nothing easily edible in his fridge or his cupboards, so at the very least they need to make a stop at the corner store, if not eat at the yakiniku a block away, because he does not feel like cooking. “Naruto, I can take care of myself-”
“No you can’t!”
Iruka shoots the boy a dirty look for a) interrupting, b) so rude. The boy stares back with a stubborn pouty squint that is quintessentially Naruto.
“I can, but thank you for worrying about me. That's very sweet of you.”, he says, and the loud little child who is no longer his student ducks his head to hide a smile, “But we need to head out to find something to eat, because I’m absolutely famished! Hey, do you have any idea what we should eat…?”
Naruto grins at him, shouting 'ramen!’ with such enthusiasm (and decibels) that one of his neighbors on the upper floors begins to yell about house rules over the railing of the inner courtyard, and Iruka has to apologise repeatedly as he pulls the boy towards the stairwell as quickly as he can with his injury. When they are finally out of sight, Naruto chirping happily about his favorite and second favorite ramen toppings and still holding tightly onto his hand, a strange sensation comes over him.
He stops.
“Iruka-sensei?”, his little companion says, squinting up at him against the sun.
Iruka blinks around, unsure if he zoned out or not, until his eyes settle on Naruto again.
“Iridofu. I really want to eat iridofu. Is that okay?”
This is actually an understatement. He feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t eat iridofu today; like he needs to cook it to be able to breathe. Like the world will collapse in on itself if he doesn’t do this; like there is no other purpose to life than for him to cook iridofu right now. It’s a rather disconcerting feeling to have, and Naruto seems to sense something of this strange phenomenon, because he looks at him thoughtfully for a moment before sullenly saying, “Eh… but I can’t cook, Iruka-sensei.”
Iruka smiles fondly, squeezing the little hand in his. “That’s okay, I’ll do it! Will you help me bring the groceries home?”
Please, he adds in his thoughts.
“Fine…”, Naruto whines, as though this is a huge chore and as though he is not actually smiling at the thought of a home-cooked meal. As though he hasn't noticed something isn't quite right.
Iruka chews on his bottom lip as he watches Naruto sleep in his parents’ old futon, comically small. It’s been four days since the Mizuki incident, two since he has been discharged from the hospital, and the boy has not left his side since, fussing over him every time he tries to stand or walk. It's really sweet, if a little annoying, seeing as Iruka is a battle-hardened shinobi who was deployed in war and experienced shit you would not believe, thank you. Anyway, they are obviously no longer teacher and student. They are…
He scratches his facial scar as he heads into his kitchen slowly, quietly.
The events with Mizuki have at least made it clear to him that despite years of desperate professionalism, he has come to really care for Naruto. Maybe because he is the last true war orphan in Konoha, with no family to call his own, only the stupid system there to furnish and feed him. Just like Iruka was. And Iruka knows the orphanage system; it never worked well, and he can only imagine how well it worked for Naruto. His other students couldn’t even begin to comprehend what he and Naruto know as a reality: the endless stream of second hand things, the subpar food supply and the school lunches, the broken heating and the badly insulating windows; the dreams of a family, of buying something new, of being whole and home. Not even Sasuke, who inherited not only vast wealth but a personal accountant to see to his worldly needs. (He knows for a fact that the boy lives in a better apartment with better things than he does.)
He unscrews his coffee maker, fills the bottom with water.
What exactly are they then with Naruto? What can Iruka even be? What can he give to him that he needs?
He begins to pack the coffee into the filter, pushing it down with every spoonful.
Clothes are always good. Food… well, he’s been doing that for a very long time, honestly, but maybe he could squeeze in a bit more. He could take him to the weapons shop too - they were set to meet their new jōnin sensei a couple of weeks later, and he should be well prepared…
He screws the coffee maker together tightly, and sets it on the stove.
Cooking was also nice. Not that Iruka is anything but a moderate cook, but listening to the boy ramble on while chopping vegetables, boiling tofu or scrambling the eggs was a wholesome experience, and Naruto's face at a home cooked meal, made for him specifically, was utterly priceless. It was a good idea to make iridofu. He should cook for them more often.
Iruka turns the rice-cooker on, heating up yesterday's rice. He fishes some umeboshi out of the fridge, and a couple of eggs to make into a tamagoyaki - and some miso soup to reheat in the microwave.
“Iruka-sensei, what are you doing bending?”
He turns around to find Naruto rubbing his eyes, looking quite put upon to find his former sensei misbehaving.
“Breakfast.”
“What?! You're cooking again...?!”
He could get used to Naruto being underfoot all the time. He could.
He sends Naruto out for groceries on the sixth day, having made his decision. While the boy is away, he empties the single cabinet in his bedroom, moving the few clothes he has into the large built-in closet in the living room. He does the same with the small nightstand, and strips the bed.
He bought Naruto a new set of duvet and pillow covers for his birthday last month. It has ninja frogs on it, so it's fantastically cute, but is also of a great durable quality, and it's easy to wash. He puts them to use on his old bed.
Iruka is just closing the door to the bedroom behind himself when the keys rattle in his lock. Naruto grumbles with his two huge bags of groceries, pushing the door closed behind himself with his bum. He shouts ‘I’m home’, obviously unaware that Iruka is standing right across from him at the end of the hall. They are going to have to work on this awareness thing.
“Welcome home.”, Iruka says with a smirk, watching Naruto jump and almost fall over.
“Iruka-sensei! What are you doing there?”, he shouts back at him, then points an accusing finger suddenly, “Were you bending again?!”
Iruka grins mischievously at the boy, heading towards the forgotten groceries on the floor. “Of course not, is that how you know me? As someone who disobeys rules?”, he says slyly, reaching for one of the bags on the floor.
“You are doing it right now!!!”, Naruto shrieks, gathering up the bags and running into Iruka's tiny-ass kitchen with them as if his life depended on it. Iruka laughs, following him in a more sedate pace.
“Did you get everything on the list?”, he asks. Naruto shoots him a dark look, a sort of 'I’m onto you’ glare.
“Yeah, even though I had to go all the way to the other end of town. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Iruka grins again. He likes how there is an easy mischief between them now that they aren't teacher and student, that he can let go of the sternness he has to bring to the classroom. Naruto putters around in the kitchen, slamming cupboards as he puts the food away (from his tiptoes on a chair). He looks comfortable here, but Iruka senses a distress beneath - the boy is probably anxious about his getting better and sending him home. Iruka understands this from the depths of his soul, - and no one ever did for him what he is about to do for Naruto.
“Naruto”, he says quietly, “could you come with me please?”
Naruto hops off the chair and walks behind him with a somber expression, probably expecting some kind of rejection. He looks up in surprise when Iruka stops in front of the bedroom.
“I admit, I did send you on long errand, but I had a good reason.”, Iruka says softly, and opens the bedroom door. The boy peeks in, then stares up at him with furrowed brows and a pouting lip, the picture of confusion. Iruka huffs a laugh. “This room is yours now.”
Naruto's eyes widen.
“You can stay here as much as you like. If you-UPH!”, his monologue is cut short by the boy slamming into him, a ferocious hug around his midriff. Iruka kneels carefully, puts his arms around Naruto, and squeezes him tightly.
“If you want”, he continues softly into the very blond hair, “you can stay here all the time. If you don’t want, then don’t. All I want is for you to know that you will always have a place here.”
Iruka doesn’t mind that his shoulder is becoming wet.
The middle of Minazuki (水無月, "Month of Water"; June), the year Naruto graduates
Iruka is quite shocked to learn that the jōnin Sandaime had picked for Team Seven had never passed a team before. Sure, sometimes teams didn't make the cut, either because of teamwork or abilities, but to never pass anyone? Did the man even want this position?
(... knowing his Hokage… there was a chance he didn't…)
So he is surprised to find out from Naruto - still tied to a stump on the training ground - that they made it. Delighted, he takes the boy out for ramen, and Naruto even beams when Iruka drags him back to the notorious stump after to practice escaping from ropes. (He gets it all down in an hour, so it’s painfully clear to him that if Naruto would have had this type of guidance during his academy days, he never would have flunked even once. He suppress the feeling of guilt that rears its ugly head.)
Iruka waits patiently on one of the tree branches near Team Seven’s meeting point, favorite murder mystery in hand. He promised Naruto he'd meet him here after their first ever successful D-rank, but he made sure to be concealed enough just in case his presence would disrupt Kakashi-sensei's pedagogy. Lord Buddha knows he hates it when worrywart parents hang about his lessons.
Not that he is Naruto's parent… or guardian… He thinks about the dull ache in his chest for a full minute before arriving at the conclusion that Sandaime would never let him, because Naruto is the vessel after all, and they simply don’t get adopted. Naruto most likely has to be an Uzumaki.
So Iruka is not really here in a pseudo-parental capacity at all. Except that he is, actually. Oh, his professionalism is in tatters, he knows. He just… he just hopes the jōnin will prove to be a better teacher to Naruto than he was, especially when it comes to things like... stealth. And staying alive. And not getting betrayed by comrades. Because Iruka is really bad at that last one.
“So that was our first mission? Man, I thought we would get to do something a little more awesome than help old man Takashi fish!”
(Iruka cringes. That was some ANBU level mission right there, stealth, with the way Naruto’s default volume was set at loud.)
He closes his book to observe Team Seven approaching from the woods. Naruto is, as expected, complaining loudly with his arms crossed behind his head, Sakura is yelling at him angrily, and Sasuke looks bored. Kakashi-sensei… Kakashi-sensei is an epitome of jōnin-ness, he decides, with his aloof manner and slouched posture, strange hair and questionable choice of reading material. Iruka pegs him for a future hokage from his service record. (Being a sweet-talking mission desk worker had its perks.) The jounin glances at him briefly as they arrive, and he bows his chakra back politely.
“Man, Iruka-sensei is still not here? I hope he is okay…”
Iruka twitches. Will Naruto ever accept his chuunin status? He doubts Naruto even knows what that means. Will he have to beat him at a spar to shut up about the shuriken in his back? Probably. Is it worth the effort? Not yet.
Once they are dismissed and the other team members are out of visual range, Naruto busies himself playing tic tac toe with the tip of his kunai, crouching with his back to the tree. Iruka drops down behind him silently, intent on getting some revenge for that earlier comment.
“I bought those for you so you’d have nice sharp ones.”, he says, taking pleasure in the huge scream of surprise that follows, catching the knife the boy throws away easily and twirling it around his finger.
“Iruka-sensei, don’t scare me like that!”, Naruto turns to him, hand clutching his chest. Iruka throws the whiner his kunai back.
“Idiot! You're a ninja, you’re supposed to be aware of your surroundings!”, he mock-berates as Naruto tries to step on his game of tic tac toe in the dust, and Iruka lets him. He ruffles the blond hair, enjoying the way the boy tries to swat away his hand while not really. They begin their slow walk back to town, the late summer sun warm on their skin.
“I’m proud of you.”, Iruka says simply after a while, and grins at Naruto as the boy stares at him with those big blue eyes, “Good job on your first mission! What would you-”
It happens again, that weird chill running down his spine, ice cold and he feels almost outside his own body. He realizes Naruto is shaking his hand with a worried look on his face.
“Hey, Iruka-sensei. What's going on?”
“I… I need to make donburi.”, Iruka whispers, a little frightened at this returning sensation of a consuming need to cook, but Naruto just smiles at him kindly after a moment of scrutinizing Iruka’s face.
“Okay.”, he declares as he pulls him along the road, “That sounds pretty great! I’ll tell you all about my first mission while we shop, okay Iruka-sensei?”
Naruto is so brave, Iruka thinks, and holds the little hand tighter.
The end of Minazuki (水無月, "Month of Water"; June), the year Naruto graduates
Iruka is walking home with that huge, no-good folder under his arm when he runs into Team Seven. Naruto tackles his side so forcefully he almost drops the paperwork of doom, but he can’t stay mad at the orange phenomenon of glee that jumps up and down, tugging on his hand with shouts of ‘food, food, food!’.
“Ah, you must be the famous Iruka-sensei.”, Kakashi-sensei says, and Iruka can’t help a small blush. He’s never been on this side of the parent-teacher meeting before.
“Infamous, maybe.”, he replies as he shakes the jōnin’s extended hand, managing to disentangle himself for a moment. Naruto scrunches his face up at them.
“You don’t know each other?”, he says slowly, and Sasuke scoffs next to him. “But you know everyone, Iruka-sensei.”
“Idiot”, Sakura cuts in with a punch to his arm, “Konoha is huge. How could he?”
Naruto throws his arms into the air, volume doubled as they descend into a squabble, and Iruka shares a look with Kakashi-sensei; they need no words to feel their camaraderie. Silently, they turn on their heels and begin walking down the street. The kids will eventually notice.
“Thank you for taking such good care of them.”, he says to the other man with a tilt of his head. “I know they are a handful.”
Kakashi-sensei chuckles darkly, his hands slipping into his pockets.
“I can’t imagine how you teach an entire class. Were any of us ever so inattentive...”, the jōnin mumbles, that one dark eye examining the folder under Iruka’s arm with faked causality before moving on to the other parts of the street; rooftops, corners, trees, Iruka notices, a lookout for anything at all.
“Well, being deployed straight into war had that effect on us.”, he replies softly, glancing behind himself to see the three children running after them, “I’m glad that’s not how they start their careers. They’ll pull through later, once they get their first serious assignment. They have the will of fire.”
Kakashi-sensei’s eye is back on him, and there is something warm in his gaze; Iruka has no time to decipher its meaning, as Naruto crashes into him again, this time hopping onto his back for an illegal piggy-back ride. He hisses in pain as it justles something that should probably not have been justled, and Naruto is off him in an instant, looking tearful and afraid. They both stop to look at him, as do Sakura and Sasuke behind him.
“I’m so sorry! I forgot what the nurse said!”, Naruto shouts almost hysterically, clutching his face, but what worries Iruka more is his genuine concern behind it, “Oh no, please Iruka-sensei, I don’t want you to not be able to walk again, we need to get you to the hospital-”
“What.”, he realizes his tone is flat, flat like it used to be, but he does not like where that morsel of information is leading, and disregards the strange looks the children give him. Kakashi-sensei takes one step closer to him. “Which nurse told you what now?”
Is this where this has been coming from? Did someone seriously try to play a trick on an orphan child when he was by the bedside of someone he cared about? Did someone think making Naruto needlessly worry was funny? His rage is ice in his veins.
“The-the blond one with the glasses. She-she said if I’m not careful you’ll break your back and won’t be able to walk or teach or be a ninja at all, and I-”
Surprisingly, it's Sakura who puts a calming hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “I-It’s okay Naruto. Iruka-sensei is fine, see…”
Well, he isn’t. He is barely keeping his murderous intent in check, and is a hair’s width away from hunting down this nurse and killing her with his bare hands; Kakashi-sensei has probably picked up on it anyway, because he turns to Naruto and simply says, “She lied to you.”
Iruka is gone by the time Naruto shouts ‘what’ and ‘why’, leaving the jōnin to deal with his mess. He’ll apologise later, when he cut that bitch.
Kakashi blinks slowly at Genma from his seat next to Asuma and Kurenai as the man rambles on about the latest juicy gossip in their booth at the Blind Bear, an establishment strictly for adults. (Buddhas know he needs a little time with no children, especially after having dealt with the consequences of someone telling cruel lies about Iruka-sensei to Naruto. Frowning, he drinks some more beer.)
“So, okay, I’ve got another great story.”, Genma begins. Anko snorts loudly next to him, grabbing a handful of peanuts away from Gai, who’s sitting at the end of the table on a poor rickety chair, but that’s what you get for being late to the usual Thursday night drinking session. (Kakashi is always early, because he absolutely will not sit with his back not against the wall and with no view of the exit.) “You’ve heard of Umino Iruka of the Academy, right?”
Oh great. He did murder someone.
“See, at the end of graduation, the jinchuuriki steals a forbidden scroll from the Hokage, right? Except, as it turns out, he got tricked by one of the teachers. Mijuku or something.”, Anko tries to interject that the correct name is Mizuki, but Genma just shakes his hand that it really doesn’t matter, and soldiers on, “So our fellow Iruka finds the kid in the woods before anyone else, takes a fuckin’ fūma shuriken in the back that almost severs his spine, and still leads the traitor on a merry goose chase until the ANBU get there.”
(It’s not Genma’s fault he doesn’t know about Naruto’s surprising victory, as the Hokage immediately classified it; Kakashi is only privy to it on account of being the boy’s teacher.)
“Okay, what’s the point Genma?”, Asuma says between drags, “This is old stuff.”
Kurenai lifts her arm to order another round from the retired shinobi behind the bar, as well as something else to eat. Kakashi isn’t sure that eating at the dinghy Blind Bear is a good choice for their health, as he is certain the place would never pass a health inspection without a copious amount of money placed in an envelope and slid across the table quietly. But the beer is cheap, and the owner doesn’t mind Gai’s loud bursts, so it’s where they always come.
“Yes, but I had to make sure all parties present are up to date.”, Genma says as he shoots Gai a pointed look, who is notorious for never knowing anything yet always possessing some new form of juicy gossip, as though to spite Genma, “The real good part starts today, when my man Raido here got a gloriously stupid head injury and we were waiting at the hospital.”
Across Kakashi, Raido sighs, adjusting the bandages covering his face and looking somewhat embarrassed. “You promised not to talk about that.”
“I’m not. I’m talking about fucking Umino Iruka strolling in there with killing intent dialed so high, even chūnin were pissing themselves. It was great people, I thought it was going to be a massacre, but no, he goes up to the head nurse, and starts demanding loud enough for every shinobi on the whole floor to hear that”, their beers arrive, and the narrative is broken by huge gulps, “Yeah, to make an official complaint or some shit against this nurse who was needlessly frightening and misleading a student or some shit. Fuck knows, that’s not the interesting part. See, it turns out this bitch was on thin ice anyway, on account of being a freakin’ Suna spy people.”
“Eh? And how do you know that?”, Anko says around her mouthful of peanuts. Kakashi wishes she would stop talking like that.
“I asked some people who know some people, Anko. So, like, ANBU has been circling her for weeks! That’s the point, okay? And get this, when my man Iruka comes in ready to murder someone, she flips, and tries to off him right there in the middle of ER. I mean, it was a quiet day, but it was still full of shinobi. Totally crazy. So she tries to senbon him, but he not only elbows her in the face, but takes the senbon, shoves it most beautifully in her upper arm point, so she has no function of the right arm. And! And before I even get up from my pretty little tush, he lightwrote her, people.”
The table erupts into cries of denial and disbelief, glasses clinking and beer spilling, and Kakashi tries to picture the kindly smiling Iruka-sensei as he draws a minimal part of the seal directly with his fingers onto the Suna spy, pushing not only his chakra, but the rest of the seal out as well - as far as he remembers, it’s sort of like what happens with summoning, except not one part of it is pre-scripted or pushed through by the summons, and that high level of intent and concentration along with the close combat factor makes it mostly unusable in battle today. But it is an old-school high-level seal technique... the last person he knows of that could do it was Kushina-san, actually.
(But he knows now why Sandaime kept Naruto under Iruka-sensei’s watchful eye.)
“You forgot to mention how the ANBU had to make Iruka-sensei put his katana away.”, Raido quips in. “He was really about to cut her head off.”
“You’re lying!”, Kurenai says in disbelief, “I’ve met Iruka-sensei. He’s sweet.”
Anko snorts, but Kakashi can’t help but think that he does seem like a genuinely kind man, even if it is a bit at odds with being a shinobi; but he supposes it’s a prerequisite for teaching small children well.
“Yeah, well, I think they took him for a cooler in T&I after that.”, Genma laughs, and they move on to other topics.
It’s two, possibly three hours after Iruka had left Naruto on the verge of tears with his cell when he finally gets out of T&I. Normally, they'd put someone like him in an all-nighter, but Iruka knows everyone and they know him, so he gets out after having a brief heart to heart with Ibiki about disregarding ANBU instructions when they are trying to apprehend a spy, and the stupidity thereof. All Iruka can think about during all this is the hurt in Naruto’s eyes.
He shouldn't have left him there.
That was a dreadful mistake, a horrible mistake. That Suna spy wasn't worth it, not by a long shot, but he was so furious… Iruka clenches his teeth as he runs as fast as he can to the boy’s shoddy apartment complex within the limits of allowed speed. It was selfish, that’s what it was. That violence hadn’t made things better, it just made Iruka feel better while Naruto was left all alone again with the betrayal and the hurt - he has no doubts that he’d put on a brave face in front of his new cell, flashing that toothy grin he’s gotten down to perfection that doesn’t reach his eyes at all.
He’s absolutely disgusted with himself.
When he arrives, he opens the window with practiced ease, barely making a sound as he slips in out of habit; Naruto is curled in on himself on the bed, unaware and facing the wall.
What an idiot he is. What an irresponsible, childish thing to have done that.
“Hey.”, he says gently, taking the few steps between them and sitting down on the edge of the bed. The boy turns his head in surprise, pain so evident on his small face it makes Iruka want to burn the world. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you there.”
Naruto blinks at him, turning wholly around. His bed creaks, and his sheets look like they haven't been washed in a long while; now that he has graduated, the system treats him like an adult, and there is no more caretaker coming by every week. (It’s a moronic system, Naruto is still twelve, but Iruka has learned on his own skin that the system doesn’t care. The expectation is always that orphans get adopted out before graduation.)
“I was so angry.”, he hesitates, unsure if his touch would be welcome, before placing a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, “I wanted to hurt the person who said that to you so much that I left when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry Naruto.”
Naruto sniffs loudly, nose obviously stuffy, and sits up, scrubbing at his eyes. “I don’t want it.”, his voice is small and cracking, “I hate the fox. They hate me so much because I’m the fox. I don’t - I don’t wanna -”, he begins to cry again, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks; this time, Iruka doesn’t hesitate, puts his arms around him and pulls him close, feels little fingers clutch at the back of his vest with all the force they have, smooths down unruly blonde hair over and over again as sobs wreck the small body.
It’s just not fair, that a little boy would have to suffer this much for a peace that barely exists.
“Come on.”, Iruka whispers after a while, not letting go until Naruto raises his head, eyes red and puffy, “Let’s go home and eat something delicious.”
And that’s what they do; Iruka stuffs the boy with the leftover mapo tofu he has before bringing out the big guns (high quality chocolate bars), watching stupid late night competitions and making shadow figures on the wall from under the cover of his futon (table put aside), until Naruto smiles again, until he laughs again, until he falls asleep, snuggled into his side, so small and precious.
Iruka wants to kill everyone who has ever hurt him. (Starting with the Yondaime.)
The beginning of Fumizuki (文月, "Month of Books"; July), the year Naruto graduates
Kakashi ambles along behind his little team, tuning out their usual bickering - this time over who was supposed to pick which row of carrots - almost pulling out his book in boredom when his eye lands on one Umino Iruka turning onto their street, again with that huge dossier under his arm. Naruto notices him at the same time he does, like some sort of fine-tuned radar set to his favorite person, running forward with loud cries of 'Iruka-sensei’, tackling the man with an enthusiastic hug. Iruka-sensei laughs, ruffling the blond hair, and Kakashi can very well imagine him fucking up that nurse in the hospital for hurting his sensei's son. It's pretty sweet.
“It’s so nice to see you all again!”, Iruka-sensei says to them, “Are you coming back from a mission?”
Sakura and Sasuke also seem fond of him, though not in the way Naruto is. They discuss their harvesting thrill-ride of a mission, - he is tuning out again -, before Naruto interjects that he is hungry and that they all should have dinner now, together.
Iruka-sensei opens his mouth to reply and freezes.
It makes Kakashi switch into field-mode immediately, but nothing happens: the man just stands there, eyes glazed over, lips slightly parted. Like a computer that's shut down.
“I-Iruka-sensei…?”, Sakura stammers, but Naruto shakes his head at her, and his reaction surprises Kakashi even more.
“It's okay.”, the blond says, “It’s been happening ever since he had the shuriken in the back. He just really wants to cook something after.”
Kakashi narrows his eye. That… is far from okay, if probably harmless. Iruka-sensei is still standing there, staring off into the distance.
“How long does it take?”, Sasuke asks, and Naruto shrugs, taking the sensei's hand into his.
He has a good eye for seeing connections and noticing details, he knows, but over the course of his career, Kakashi has learned to trust his gut over almost anything. And right now, his gut is telling him that he should investigate. He frowns, leaning forward to his genin, “New mission. We accompany Iruka-sensei tonight.”
“You just want free food.”, Naruto says with a pout, just as Iruka-sensei comes out of it with a small shudder. The boy looks up at him with a grin. “What are we having?”
“... su-sukiyaki.”, Iruka-sensei whispers with a small blush, avoiding Kakashi's gaze.
“Eh, never had that before!”, Naruto laughs, and his genin begin to loudly discuss the merits and variations of sukiyaki as they begin their journey towards the market, no doubt to lift the unease apparent on Iruka-sensei's face. They are cute little gremlins like that, and they naturally drift forward, leaving him to follow with the chūnin by his side. He tries to smile reassuringly, but he is neither very good at it nor is the other man looking at him, so his efforts are ultimately a failure.
“I apologize for leaving so suddenly last time. My temper got the better of me.”, Iruka-sensei says after a while, and Kakashi can’t help a chuckle.
“Oh, I’ve heard.”, the other man’s head whips around so quickly, his ponytail smashes into his face, “Genma was there in the ER. I don't know if you know him, but he is the biggest gossip Konoha has ever known.”
He surmises from the quiet groan that Iruka-sensei knows exactly what kind of man Shiranui Genma is, and just how fast and in how many circles the retelling of the events have probably occurred.
“He was wildly impressed with you!”, Kakashi tries to reassure him, but all he gets is a flat disbelieving look as they enter the market.
It’s a cooling evening by the time they arrive at Iruka-sensei’s apartment, a couple of blocks from the Academy where the civilian and the shinobi residences intermingle. It’s not a bad neighborhood, like Naruto’s apartment, but it’s not very great either, like Sasuke’s - or Kakashi’s, though he chose his living accommodations to suit his very particular set of needs that had little to do with the class of the neighborhood. (The realtor thought he was an avid feng shui follower, but nothing could be further from the truth.) There are still many people outside, and Iruka-sensei waves to a remarkable number of them. They climb the stairs - the inner courtyard around which the homes are arranged halved into a tiny training ground and a more domestic area, with a carpet beater and a clothes dryer -, and the other man undoes a sufficient number of wards for Kakashi’s liking before unlocking the three separate locks on the door. Truly, a man after his own heart.
Inside, there is barely a genkan for them to take their shoes off (it looks impossibly cluttered with all their sandals - Iruka-sensei yells at Naruto for not putting his down properly), which continues on into a small corridor with doors to the bathroom on the left. It smells clean - he can detect a faint citrusy smell of some cleaning product. His nose appreciates the smell, along with the faint hint of incense. As soon as his shoes are off, Naruto runs forward, throwing open the door at the end of the hall: he can see a bed with shuriken patterned covers, and a mess that’s very Naruto-ish.
“This is mine!”, the boy beams proudly, like the bedroom is his greatest treasure and he wants all the world to know, “Iruka-sensei lets me stay whenever I want! Look, look, I even have some awesome scrolls on ninjutsu! And a very cool bean bag.”
Kakashi hears Iruka-sensei mutter behind him ‘how did he get that back in here again’ under his breath as he reaches the corridor’s end; to his right there is a large room with tatami, and what seems to be a balcony looking out into the garden encircled by the continuous block of the neighbouring complexes. It’s as quiet and private as it gets in this part of the village.
Iruka-sensei turns left, and disappears around the corner to what Kakashi assumes to be the kitchen. He enters the washitsu instead, curious. There is an old tv set tucked into the corner next to the balcony door with a bookshelf that has seen better days housing various books. The titles range from technical to murder mysteries (and can Iruka-sensei’s ratings in Kakashi’s book go any higher, because they are alphabetized), all second hand by the looks of it; interestingly, there are no pictures save for the small ancestral shrine under the balcony window.
A shinobi couple stare back at him happily from the photo. The incense has burned away, but Kakashi can see the small altar is particularly well-cared for, even if it's very simple. He offers a small prayer to them, before letting his gaze wonder further.
Above the altar, plants line the windowsill, small orbs of water hovering over them; a curious little jutsu. The sunshine dances in delightful patterns on the floor as it breaks through them. A bit back, in front of him and in viewing distance of the television set is a worn low table, the only other furniture in the room, with zabuton pillows on the floor - one a newer in blinding orange. There is a single piece of calligraphy that hangs on the wall in an old frame, but he has always been very bad at cursive script and can't really read it. He notices that in the back of the room is an oshiire, probably housing the futons and whatnot.
Very nice, Kakashi thinks, an absolutely stellar apartment that passes all tests. He could even sleep here.
He heads towards the kitchen, taking a peek at the genin huddled around a scroll or something in what is ostensibly Naruto's room. “Hey, aren't you going to watch Great Mecha Samurai?”
(Sasuke’s embarrassed flush gives him life, it really does.) A moment later the three troublemakers storm into the living room, and he hears the opening theme of the show play. It's good that they can be kids still, unlike they were.
Iruka-sensei is busy preparing the vegetables when he enters the narrow kitchen. He likes the little bar under the window opposite the workstation, allowing for a view of the street below.
“You have a lovely home.”, Kakashi says, and Iruka-sensei blinks at him rapidly in surprise, before deciding that Kakashi really does mean it, and smiles back sincerely.
“Thank you.”, he says quietly, “I’m sorry for ruining your plans this evening.”
Kakashi takes the bowls that are set out.
“Nonsense, I’m the one getting a good meal here… but, I have to ask. Have you consulted a medic, Iruka-sensei?”
The other man’s hand stills, holding the knife for a moment in the air before resuming chopping.
“I’ve always known my brain has faulty wiring.”, he replies almost inaudibly, “And as it poses no danger, there is really nothing to consult about.”
Naruto begins shouting insults at Sasuke, and Kakashi drags himself away from the conversation in order to end the squabble before something is on fire.
A little while later, the sukiyaki is ready: Kakashi is surprised by how much he looks forward to it, his mouth watering at the smell as Iruka-sensei brings the pot into the living room. After a short introduction to Naruto about the merits of dipping the vegetables into the egg, they are all enjoying an absolutely delicious meal. Whatever is making Iruka-sensei cook, it has great ideas.
“So, Sakura, have you started on your medical training yet?”, Iruka-sensei asks conversationally between bites, but seeing the girl look at him, then at Kakashi in confusion adds hurriedly, “Oh, sorry. I just thought since you have the best chakra control, you’d be the designated healer.”
“Designated healer?”, Naruto says with his mouth full. Kakashi will never know if he actually listened to anything Iruka-sensei ever thought him in school, but the answer is probably not. Sasuke sighs dramatically.
“Dumbass.”, the Uchiha grumbles, “every cell is required to have someone with at least some medical knowledge. In case someone gets hurt.”
Sakura blushes sweetly. “I would like to, I guess…”
“I haven't decided yet who should be the designated healer.”, Kakashi says as he puts his sake cup down, “The kunoichi isn’t always the best choice, if the boys are not of matching range and elemental disposition.”
Iruka-sensei nods as he pours him another round.
“That’s true. It was the case for my genin team too, so I ended up spending my hours in the field hospitals. Not that I was anything but moderate, but it came in handy when I applied for the sewa specialization.”, the other man replies with a chuckle, putting some udon into the sukiyaki pot.
“Eh, the what now Iruka-sensei?”, Naruto says - thankfully between the two bites, instead of in the middle of one.
Iruka-sensei looks like he is reevaluating his vocation for a moment, before putting down his bowl to point at himself in exasperation. “Me. I’m a chūnin with sewa specialization. You know, shinobi who work in the nursery, orphanage, academy and parts of the pediatrics? ...You never listened to me at all, did you?”
Kakashi tries not to laugh at Naruto's sheepish reply of 'sorry’ and Iruka-sensei’s following exclamations of 'how are you ever going to be a hokage if you don't know who does what’ and 'Sakura please give me back my faith that someone listened to me talking for two years, because I’ve been yelling at this dumbass for six and Tenjin help me I’m losing all faith in my teaching abilities’ (dramatic sob), or Naruto indignantly shooting back 'you shouldn't make everything so hard to understand then’.
Having sukiyaki was quite fun in the end. Iruka was slightly apprehensive about what Kakashi-sensei would think, especially given the way the idea came up, but he was nothing but charming. He finds that talking with the jōnin is easy and effortless, and not talking even more so; they seem to be quite similar in their habits and thoughts, and being with Kakashi-sensei is like holding a pebble washed smooth by the river, intricate veins on the surface that catches the eye so you take it home with you.
Interestingly, this 'sukiyaki incident’ starts a habit of weekly dinner parties - without the aid of his new found something suggesting food, thankfully. He invites Team Seven come every Friday, and he always cooks something else. It's… pleasant.