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Chapter Text

Iruka stifled a groan as another tell-tale tug jerked low in his gut, a sure sign that another team had opened their scroll and he was about to be summoned again. A quick glance at the clock in Anko’s makeshift office showed that the time for the second chuunin exam was almost over. Hopefully whoever was opening the scrolls this time was actually inside the tower. If he appeared in the Forest of Death again, he’d have to knock the team out just like the others who had broken the rules and doing that this late in the exam would just be sad.

The tug intensified until it felt like he was falling, and then the next second he was blinking as summoning smoke burned his eyes. An incredulous and very familiar, “Iruka-nii!” greeted him and a tension that he hadn't realized he’d been holding fell from his shoulders. 

Iruka crossed his arms and grinned widely as the smoke cleared away completely and Team 7 came into view. “Long time no see,” he welcomed them. “You three are looking a little worse for wear!” His eyes roved over all of them to search for serious injuries, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t spend a little longer examining Naruto. Once he was satisfied that the worst of their injuries only appeared to be superficial scrapes and bruises, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why’d you appear out of a summoning scroll?” Naruto asked, eyes scrunched up in confusion.

“I was assigned the all-important task of welcoming the test-takers at the end of the second exam.” Iruka glanced down at his watch. “And it looks like you three made it just in time. Congratulations! I wish I could treat you all to some Ichiraku Ramen to celebrate, but—”

“Ramen!” Naruto shouted, cutting straight through Iruka’s sentence. The blond dredged up enough energy from somewhere to launch himself at the chuunin and wrap his arms around the man’s waist like a monkey. “I want ramen! We deserve it after that dumb forest with all the snakes and leeches, believe it!”

Iruka ruffled Naruto’s head. “As I was saying, I would like to treat you, but there is unfortunately one more thing you must do.”

Naruto let go of Iruka’s waist with a disappointed groan. “I wanted ramen,” he grumbled.

“When you’re finished here I’ll take you out for some,” Iruka promised. “But first, I need—”

“Iruka-sensei,” Sakura said, raising her hand like she was in class, “what exactly does the writing on the wall over there mean? We didn’t quite understand it.” 

“Who cares, we passed!” Naruto yelled.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Barely.”

Iruka glanced over his shoulder at the broad paint strokes on the wall dictating the role of a chuunin as defined by the Hokage. “Ah yes, explaining that is actually one of my duties.” He launched into the spiel he and Anko had put together. He talked about the importance of having both a knowledgeable mind and a strong body so that a chuunin could successfully lead their squad. He did go a little off script, choosing to personalize the message and give pointed advice to these three that he knew so well, although from their grimaces and complaints it didn’t seem like they exactly appreciated the effort.

“Now, you must move on to the next stage of the chuunin exams. Make sure to remember what you learned here as it will guide your path to chuunin status and beyond.” Iruka flexed his fingers as his gaze came to rest on Naruto and before he could stop he heard himself saying, “And please, be careful going forward. I worry about you.”

“Aw, Iruka-nii, I’m not an academy student anymore!” The blond tapped his headband proudly. “This is proof that I’m a full-fledged shinobi! I may still be scatterbrained and unpredictable, but I’m not a kid anymore. Believe it!”

Iruka’s heart nearly ground to a halt. “That’s what I’m afraid of!” he wanted to shout. Instead, he angled his eyes down to the ground, an act of contriteness. “I see. I’m sorry, Naruto. I believe in you, I do.”

Without further ado, he pointed them in the direction of the tower's center where the other chuunin candidates were likely already gathering. The group filed out with two bright waves and a reserved nod, and Iruka could’ve sworn his lungs went with them. None of his breaths felt deep enough. Instead they were coming quick and shallow. 

The room was completely silent, yet still too loud. The lights glared down at him. Movement made the room blur. The world at the edge of his vision fell away as black began to creep in in its stead. In the back of his mind he was vaguely aware that he was spiraling. He could feel his anxiety rising up to worrying levels, but he couldn’t get a hold of it. He was grasping at straws to try and center himself but it was the equivalent of trying to get a tight hold on a bar of slippery soap. It wasn’t working and the more he tried the worse it got. His lungs wheezed. His fingertips were going numb. Before he could tip over into a full blown anxiety attack though, an exchange he’d had with Anko before the second exam punctured the overwhelming thought bubble in his mind. 

“Iruka, I know you’re still hung up about this,” Anko had said, “but eventually you’re going to have to accept it and move on. Naruto—and the rest of his classmates,” she added when he opened his mouth to argue that he worried for more than just Naruto, “are growing up. They probably won’t all pass the exam this time, and frankly I’d be amazed if any of them pass despite what their jounin sensei say, but they will start taking on more dangerous missions after this, likely without a jounin to watch over them. You have to let them grow up.” Anko sighed and ran a hand through the spiky ends of her ponytail. “Kakashi wants what’s best for him, even if you don’t agree with it.”

Iruka flashed back to the present and gulped in a huge breath of air. He stumbled over to the wall and rested his hands on the cool stone, letting his arms take his weight. It felt so good to rest there a minute and steady himself against the solid surface, simply breathing. Once his heart no longer felt like it was beating with the force of Gai-sensei’s fists, Iruka let his head fall back so that he was gazing up at the words written on the wall.

“‘The one who guides,’ huh?” Iruka read the final words. “I guess that’s not really my role in Naruto’s life anymore.” Iruka shook his head. “Whether I agree or not, you might be the one to truly understand his strength, Kakashi.”

Another quick glance at his watch told him it was time to be moving on whether he was ready or not. The next stage of the exam was about to begin and as Anko’s assistant he was technically supposed to be present to turn things over to the next proctor. Iruka took one more moment to settle himself and catch his breath, and then he flickered over to the arena. He quickly took his place in line with the other proctors and assistants. Anko must have notified the jounin instructors of the passing teams because they were all present, including Kakashi. Seeing the man made Iruka hesitate for just a couple of seconds before he managed to get himself moving again. He’d paused for such a short amount of time, but even so, the slight variation in movement had been enough to catch the jounin’s attention. As Iruka took his place in the formation, he could feel the silver-haired man’s stormy gaze searing into the nape of his neck. He swallowed uncomfortably and fell into a parade rest stance.

As Iruka stood there, his mind kept turning itself in circles. He was actively ignoring Kakashi’s presence, trying to pay at least a little bit of attention to what was being said, and flickering back and forth between accepting and resisting Naruto’s status as a full-fledged shinobi, as well as his possible promotion to chuunin. Iruka knew that Naruto was old enough as well as capable of taking on more dangerous missions, but try as he might his mind rebelled when he tried to tell himself it was okay. He couldn’t see Naruto as more than a child. Back and forth his mind went.

He was conscious of the Hokage giving a speech of some sort, as well as Hayate stepping up and explaining the next phase that was about to take place, but he didn’t actually hear anything that was being said. The only reason Iruka noticed the older white-haired boy withdraw from the competition was because his eyes kept worriedly sweeping over the rookie nine.

At last, a hand clamping down on his shoulder alerted him to the fact that everyone but Hayate, the chuunin candidates, and their jounin sensei were filing out of the arena. 

“Come on, Iruka, it’s been a long five days,” Anko said as she pushed him towards the entrance. The bright lights from the fighting arena gave way to the more shadowy hallway that led to an exit.

“It has,” Iruka agreed. He’d been summoned enough times that he hadn’t even seen Anko since the first day of the exam.

Anko threaded her fingers together and stretched her arms back over her head as they walked down the tunnel-like hall. “I’m going home to get the longest, hottest shower that has ever been taken, and then Izumo, Kotetsu, and I are going to hit up a bar. I desperately need a drink or five so I can forget this entire, miserable exam.” Anko’s arms slowly lowered down to her side, one of them taking a detour to squeeze Iruka’s shoulder hard enough for him to feel it through his flak vest. “What do you say, Iruka? You coming?”

Iruka opened his mouth to reply when the absolutely defeated tone that Anko was using registered with him. “...Anko,” Iruka began as he turned to face his friend. Her hair was unusually frazzled and even in the dim light her skin looked pale and clammy, almost sickly. Dark shadows stained the thin skin below her eyes. “Did something happen?”

The kunoichi flinched, but her fake smile failed to drop away. “No. Nothing happened.”

Iruka surreptitiously glanced around, and noticing a tall shadow approaching on the floor, he forcibly dragged his friend into a small side room off the main hall. “Anko, what happened,” he asked as soon as the door had shut behind them.

The tokubetsu jounin instinctively backed up against the gritty, grey wall. Her shoulders curled in, making her look much smaller than her boisterous personality usually made her seem. “I can’t talk about it right now,” she murmured, refusing to meet Iruka’s gaze. Her hand drifted up, seemingly without any conscious effort from her, and rested over the area where her cursemark was. Usually that gesture wouldn’t set off any alarm bells since rubbing at the mark left by her old sensei had become a bit of a habit in the years after he’d forced it on her. This time though, the gesture looked more protective than habitual.

Iruka grabbed Anko by the biceps, feeling his temper rising from the ashes, sparked to life by worry and dread. “Is he back? Anko, you know I have high clearance. You can tell me!”

She shook her head. “It’s need-to-know right now.”

“Anko!”

“Iruka, I’m fine, I promise. He didn’t come after me.” Anko finally looked up and met his gaze. Her smile was a little watery and it lacked the usual bravado, but it was still her. “I’m fine. Now, are you coming out for drinks or not?”

Iruka backed away from the kunoichi to give her some space. He was feeling suddenly torn. “I’m not sure. I was going to stay here and act as an intermediary for the medics.” He gestured back towards the arena. “I’m sure there will be injuries from what comes next.”

“Okay, you stay and do that. Put your mind at ease,” Anko decided for him. “We can always get drinks another time.”

As Anko stepped around him, Iruka couldn’t help saying, “If you need someone, you know where to find me.”

Anko waved without turning back around to look at him. “Same to you, Iruka!” And then she was gone.

Iruka made his way to the room where the medics were stationed so he could check in with them and offer his help in carrying any injured genin. Then he took up a position near the arena where he didn’t have to see his former students fighting but could still hear when each match was finished.

Even though he didn’t have much to do besides stare at the drab, grey wall and listen to the dull thud of punches being thrown, the time still passed quickly. The first match came to a swift end, and if Naruto’s echoing cheer meant anything, the person he was rooting for must’ve won. Iruka signalled to the medics that they were likely needed. He was about to join them to help carry a stretcher if needed, when Sasuke strolled right past him. The seconds slowed to molasses as Iruka registered the terrific glare plastered on the boy’s face and the way he was covering the juncture between his neck and shoulder like he was staunching the blood flow from a wound.

Iruka attempted to flag him down. “Over here, Sasuke! The medics are set up in the room down this hall. They’ll be able to treat you in just a moment.” He smiled warmly, but Sasuke’s glare didn’t soften one bit. If anything, he only seemed to become stiffer from the offer of help.

A quiet sense of unease prickled at the back of Iruka’s mind. He stepped forward with a hand held out, about to try and comfort the genin, but a shadow fell across him, stopping him in his tracks. Iruka looked up to find Kakashi looming in the doorway, his usual laidback slouch nowhere to be seen. Being in the presence of the Copy Nin while he was standing at his full height with his shoulders back and his eyebrow furrowed in a frown gave Iruka a glimpse of how imposing the jounin must appear to enemy nin seconds before they breathed their last. A cold shiver zipped along his back and through his limbs.

“This is out of the medics’ league,” Kakashi stated flatly. “I’ll take care of him.”

Iruka could hear his blood rushing in his ears. “What’s wrong? What happened to him?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

A protective instinct threatened to overwhelm Iruka’s senses. “What do you mean it’s none of my concern?” he snapped. “I care about him, so I’ll be concerned if I want! He was my student—”

“Exactly.” Kakashi’s cold voice cut through Iruka’s hot rage quickly and efficiently. “He was your student.” Not bothering to expound on that statement, the jounin rested a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder and together they swept past the chuunin without giving him another glance.

Iruka stood there floundering like a fish out of water until they had almost disappeared into the darkness. At the last moment he managed to pull himself back together enough to shout an indignant, “Kakashi-san!”

It was too late though. They had vanished into the depths that led further into the tower. Iruka almost decided to follow out of sheer spite, but then the medics came bustling by with Sasuke’s opponent in tow and Iruka remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He sent one last glance towards the darkened corridor where Kakashi and Sasuke had disappeared and then trailed after the medics to lend his aid where he could. 

And that’s where Iruka remained throughout Sakura’s shocking upset, Naruto’s chaotic win, Hinata’s near-death, and Lee’s crushing defeat. Long enough to go through an entire roller coaster of emotions, ending with the unnecessarily heartwrenching realization that Kakashi had rejoined the observers in the arena at some point and had snuck past Iruka to do it. When the chuunin candidates were finally dismissed, Iruka stubbornly refused to walk back into the room where Kakashi was even though he knew it made literally no difference. There was no doubt in his mind that Kakashi likely hadn’t given him a second thought. But still, he hovered in the hallway and waited for Naruto to find him there.

And then he immediately offered to treat Naruto to Ichiraku’s, not only because he’d promised but because he also desperately needed a pick me up, and if he chose alcohol like Anko had, he might accidentally drink himself into a coma.

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Iruka slid gratefully onto a stool at Ichiraku’s counter next to Naruto and nodded pleasantly at Teuchi. The older man glanced out past him into the darkening twilight and hummed under his breath.

“Looks like you two will be my last customers of the day,” he commented.

“Sorry, we’ll be quick.” Iruka scratched underneath his ponytail. The preliminary matches had gone on for quite a while and the trek out of the Forest of Death had also taken longer than expected even though the majority of the walk had been through an underground tunnel.

“No, take all the time you need,” Teuchi replied with a wave of his hand.

“We’re celebrating me making it to the last part of the chuunin exams!” Naruto shouted, slapping his hands on the counter.

“Really now, you made it all the way to the third round? That’s pretty impressive.” Teuchi grinned. “Just for that, I’ll give you an extra helping of pork, on the house!”

Naruto’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Really?”

“What do you say, Naruto?” Iruka asked, giving the boy a slight nudge with his elbow.

“Thank you!”

“Of course! You deserve it, kid.” Teuchi grinned and then turned to focus on the noodles.

Naruto was bouncing in his seat so energetically that he was just about rocking the stool enough to tip it over. Iruka smiled and was about to rest a hand on the blond spikes and tell him that the ramen would be done soon enough, when Naruto shifted his focus to the chuunin.

“Iruka-nii, do you think Kakashi-sensei will train me for the third exam? I have to win!”

Iruka’s jaw instinctively clenched at the mention of the older man’s name, but he quickly pushed his annoyance out with a long breath. Kakashi was still Naruto’s jounin sensei after all, and as long as he held that position Iruka would have to put up with him.

“I don’t know, Naruto,” Iruka answered, hoping the lightness in his tone didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Why do you ask?”

Naruto crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “When he came back after Sasuke’s fight he said something about Sasuke needing extra attention when he gets out of the hospital.”

“Sasuke’s in the hospital?” Iruka blurted. “What happened? He didn’t seem that badly injured after his match.”

Naruto shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Kakashi-sensei wouldn’t say, and Sakura says she doesn’t know although I don’t know if I believe her. But Sasuke was acting kind of funny in his fight.”

“Funny how?”

Naruto shrugged again. “Just funny. He kept acting like he was in pain, and he didn’t dodge attacks he should’ve been able to— but I’m not worried about him,” Naruto quickly denied. “No way! If he’s hurt too bad though, he might have to miss the last part of the chuunin exams, and then we won’t be able to see who’s better, believe it!”

Teuchi chose that moment to turn back around and place their bowls in front of them. “There you go, as promised, extra pork!”

“Thank you for the food!” Naruto grabbed his chopsticks and dug in.

Iruka followed suit, but he was still distracted by the situation with Sasuke. “Hm, maybe we should go see Sasuke in the hospital tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Naruto swallowed a giant mouthful of ramen. “Okay! But I’m not worried about him!” Naruto jabbed his chopsticks at Iruka to emphasize his words. 

Iruka shook his head and decided not to point out that less was usually more when it came to lying. That was a lesson he was happy Naruto hadn’t learned. Instead, he said, “That’s okay, I’ll be worried about him enough for the both of us.”

Naruto nodded firmly. “Good!”

They devolved into silence as they both focused on the meal in front of them.

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The true test for how worried Naruto actually was about Sasuke came the next day when Iruka knocked on his bedroom door to wake him up so they could drop by the hospital.

“Naruto,” Iruka murmured lowly, “it’s time to get up. If we’re going to visit—”

“I’m already up, believe it!”

Iruka shoved the door the rest of the way open, not quite believing it until he saw it with his own eyes. Even when he did see it, he still didn’t completely believe it.

Naruto was fully dressed, sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling his vibrant orange jacket on over his mesh shirt. He zipped the jacket up and jumped to his feet. “Let’s go!”

“Now hold on, I still need to get dressed,” Iruka protested.

He threw on a shirt and pants and then swiftly tugged his hair up into its customary ponytail. Shuffling noises and the sound of water pouring came from the kitchen as Iruka wet his toothbrush, but he didn’t think anything of the noises. Iruka was halfway through brushing his teeth when he put two and two together. He stuck his head around the bathroom door and, trying not to dribble toothpaste down his shirt, he shouted, “Do not eat instant ramen for breakfast!”

A complaining groan echoed through the small apartment. Iruka ducked back into the bathroom with a quiet snort.

Not too long after that, they were on the way to the hospital. Naruto was still grudgingly munching on a few last handfuls of dry cereal. It was early enough in the morning that most people were still at home, so they made quick time through the streets and reached the large medical building in no time. 

Naruto immediately looked lost when he walked through the doors, but Iruka placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him over to the staircase. They climbed up to the third floor where patients recovering from battle injuries were usually kept. From there, they should’ve been able to get a room number from a nurse and then gone directly to Sasuke’s bedside. However, there was a kink in the plan that neither Iruka nor Naruto foresaw.

“What do you mean he isn’t allowed to have visitors?” Iruka asked. For once his shouting came from confusion rather than anger.

“I can’t see him?” Naruto asked. “But why not? We came all the way here!” He nearly jumped onto the nurse station counter, but Iruka caught him and set him roughly back on the floor.

“Can we at least get a status update?” Iruka pressed down on Naruto’s head to keep him from launching himself at the nurse again or sprinting down one of the hallways to find Sasuke on his own. The genin was practically vibrating under his hand. “We just want to make sure Sasuke is okay.”

The nurse’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish. She still hadn’t managed to utter any words by the time someone else’s matter-of-fact voice answered.

“Sasuke is doing just fine.”

Both Naruto and Iruka swivelled to stare at Kakashi. Naruto’s gaze was full of hope while Iruka’s was closer to a glare.

“Are you sure?” Naruto asked.

Kakashi’s shoulders and eyebrow moved in a way that indicated a sigh, although no sound came from him. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Can I go see him?”

“No.”

This time it was Iruka asking, “Why not?”

Kakashi glanced at Iruka for approximately two seconds before moving his dark gaze back to Naruto and addressing him as if he’d been the one to ask the question. “Sasuke is recovering right now. He needs to focus on getting better, which means he doesn’t need to be distracted by those with supposedly good intentions.”

Iruka could feel himself bristling like an angry dog.

Kakashi continued, “Besides, shouldn’t you be thinking about your training for the chuunin exam?”

Naruto took the bait so easily that Iruka almost wanted to scold the boy. 

“Oh, Kakashi-sensei, I want you to train me!”

“Unfortunately,” and his tone said it was anything but, “I have important matters to take care of, so I don’t have time to trouble myself with you.”

The pure fury that thrummed through Iruka’s veins blinded and deafened him to an alarming degree. He didn’t come back to himself until Ebisu was stepping out of a side hall, nodding hello, and introducing himself as Naruto’s new instructor. Iruka kept silent through it all, allowing his anger to simmer just below the surface.

Naruto protested, because of course he did, but he did end up going with Ebisu. Iruka didn’t even mind that because the tokubetsu jounin certainly had some skills that Naruto would benefit in learning, even if the sunglasses-wearing man was rather useless in all other aspects of life. But as soon as the two of them left, Iruka allowed himself to boil over.

“Kakashi-san!”

The jounin gave him the most bored look that Iruka had ever had the privilege to see, and he’d taught Shikamaru. 

“Ah, Iruka-sensei, it’s nice of you to save your protests until after my student left.”

“You really think I’d be unprofessional enough to undermine you in front of a student?” Iruka ground the question out through a clenched jaw.

Speaking of professionalism, he glanced over to the nurse’s station and was relieved to see that the nurse had abandoned her post at some point. Iruka would rather not blow up at Kakashi in front of an audience for a second time.

“Now don’t think you can distract me the same way you did Naruto! I am not a twelve year old child.” He jammed his hands on his hips, dimly regretting the fact that he probably looked like a caricature of an angry teacher, made even more ridiculous compared to the ever-cool Copy Nin’s effortlessly unimpressed appearance. “I want to know what happened to Sasuke!”

Kakashi’s shoulders heaved tiredly and he shifted his weight minutely. “Sensei…”

“Don’t ‘sensei’ me!” Iruka snapped. He wouldn’t have been surprised if smoke started pouring from his ears.

Kakashi squinted at him, scrutinizing, and nodded to himself. His gaze slanted across the room and he scratched at the edge of his mask before leaning in towards the chuunin. “It’s need-to-know only.”

Iruka waited for the jounin to elaborate, but when he remained silent and simply swayed back to his customary almost-upright position, Iruka frowned so sharply that the edges of his scar were tugged uncomfortably downwards. “You have got to be kidding me! You really have the nerve to say that?”

Kakashi’s eye widened for half a heartbeat before narrowing again and shuttering out all emotions. Iruka was too busy barrelling forward to notice, though.

“I mean really, I may not technically need to know, and that’s fine! But Naruto and Sakura do need to know! They’re his teammates! It’s only right!”

“Maa, I beg to differ,” Kakashi stated, his tone indicating a forced indifference that was only skin deep.

“What?”

“They will not be fighting as a team in the final round of the chuunin exams. In fact, they may even end up in combat against each other,” the jounin noted matter-of-factly. “Therefore, they do not need to know what happened, and it would be in Sasuke’s favor if they didn’t find out.”

Iruka fanned the flames of his anger higher to cover up the logical voice in his head that said Kakashi had a point. “You mean you actually—”

“I’ll be taking Sasuke out of the village to train him,” Kakashi cut in. He turned his body like he was expecting the conversation to end, like he was dismissing Iruka. “Let Naruto know so he doesn’t worry.”

“So you’re just abandoning your other two students?” Iruka bit out.

Kakashi glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not abandoning them. I found perfectly legitimate substitutes.” He stepped forward, beginning a slow stroll away.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not escaping that easily.” Iruka performed a smooth shunshin and landed so flawlessly in front of the Copy Nin that ordinarily he would’ve been proud of his execution. At the moment though, that was the farthest thing from his mind.

“Do you really think that Ebisu-san, of all people, can give Naruto the training he needs— deserves?” A humorless laugh dropped out of Iruka’s mouth like a rock before he hurtled on. “No, you’re just doing the bare minimum to keep yourself from feeling guilty! I should’ve known that my first instinct about you was right! You should’ve never been assigned to Team 7. You’re picking favorites just like I worried you would!”

The only outward sign that indicated Kakashi was feeling uncomfortable was the way his hands furtively dug deeper into his pockets. Iruka was too furious to care even if he had noticed. He had a kunai and he was aiming to cut to the bone.

He jabbed his finger at Kakashi’s chest, careful to never actually touch him. “You don’t care about your students! If you did, you would make sure they all had the tools to be equally successful in the chuunin exams. As it is, you don’t care enough to make sure they get the training to pass, let alone survive! You might even be happy if they didn’t make it. At least then they wouldn’t be your problem anymore!”

Iruka twisted the kunai in deep, feeling a wave of sticky, bloody satisfaction as he catalogued Kakashi’s stricken facial expression. For once, even with the mask, he was stripped bare. His wide eye reflected a deep pain that Iruka hadn’t realized he had the ability to inflict. 

Iruka brushed past Kakashi, knocking the man’s shoulder as he went. The chuunin wasn’t quite sure what his own face was showing, but no one tried to talk to him or stop him on his way out of the hospital.

Knowing that he would only be needlessly cruel if he tried to go home and grade papers at the moment, Iruka ran across the village’s skyline over to one of the training fields near the academy that was sure to be empty. Thankfully no one tried to stop him for a chat. Everyone in the village was giving him a wide berth. 

When Iruka landed in the training ground, he went directly to the wooden training dummy and began taking out his remaining anger on it. Chakra-hardened fists kept him from getting splinters as he punched and punched and kicked and kicked until the heady, addicting feeling of anger began to fade. And rising up immediately to take its place was icky, guilty regret. Iruka punched the dummy one last time, hard enough for a chunk of wood to go flying, before crouching down low to the ground. 

He let his head hang down and pressed the balls of his hands hard into his eye sockets as Kakashi’s shocked and pained expression kept flashing through his mind. He knew he was probably imagining the wetness that had gathered at the corner of that charcoal eye, but it felt accurate, which was almost worse.

“Why, why, why,” Iruka moaned to himself. “Why did I say that?”

He had almost found the strength to stand up again when something else from that anger-filled conversation filtered through his mind: “It’s need-to-know only,” Kakashi had said with an odd amount of fidgeting. The same thing Anko had said at the tower while fingering her curse mark, a painful jutsu that was certainly out of a regular med-nin’s league like Kakashi had determined Sasuke’s injury to be. Anko’s troubled voice echoed like an omen, saying, “He didn’t come after me,” a statement which at the time had been cause for relief. Now though it just made Iruka feel like someone was sliding an ice cube down his back as his dawning realization solidified. 

“He didn’t come after me .”

Iruka’s head whipped back around in the direction of the hospital. Orochimaru was after Sasuke. And Iruka had just berated, rebuked, the man who was trying to protect him.

No wonder he didn’t want Naruto and Sakura to know what was wrong. Telling mere genin that their friend was likely to be abducted by a legendary, evil Sannin for unknown but likely horrible reasons and that there was almost no one around who was strong enough to stop it was not something Iruka would condone had he known—had he listened to what was actually being said to him. Kakashi’s call was correct. It had also likely been mandated by the Hokage like Anko’s silence was, like Sasuke’s upcoming time in a secret location outside the village with his incredibly powerful jounin sensei also probably was.

And yet Kakashi had tried to give Iruka a hint. Kakashi had done his best to fill Iruka in in the only way he could. Look underneath the underneath he always said. And Iruka hadn’t listened and had essentially called Kakashi a monster who would be okay with his students dying.  

The tidal wave of crushing misery, regret, self-loathing was so strong that Iruka nearly tumbled forward, barely catching himself on the training dummy. Anger filled him again, but this time it was all directed inwards at himself. Tears welled up so fast and so thick that they obscured his vision, and he found himself on his hands and knees crying on the ground like a child.

Chapter Text

Iruka couldn’t even remember how he made it back to his apartment. He was numb. Dizzyingly so. The only thing he was conscious of was the irritated sting in his eyes from crying so much, the dull ache in his back from being curled up on the ground, and the nagging knowledge that Naruto would be home soon and would need some kind of nourishment after spending the entire day training.

Iruka moved on autopilot once he was behind his closed apartment door. He tugged his vest off, shucked off his shoes, ripped the hair tie out of his hair, and began puttering around the kitchen, attempting to put together some kind of meal from the meager selection in his fridge and pantry. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that he’d meant to drop by the market after visiting Sasuke in the hospital. Clearly, that hadn’t happened. 

He had just decided that omelettes with a variety of chopped add-ins were looking like a good option for supper when the apartment’s wards gave a small welcoming pulse seconds before Naruto threw open the door. “Iruka-nii, I’m home!”

Iruka forcefully shook off the melancholy that had wrapped itself around him like a python. “Welcome back!” he called, injecting some hastily summoned cheerfulness into his voice. He swiped his hands across his eyes, hoping that they didn’t look as red and swollen as they felt. “How did your training with Ebisu-sensei go?”

The familiar clunk of Naruto’s shoes hitting the wall as he yanked them off too forcefully made Iruka wince. “He said I waste too much chakra when I make shadow clones!”

“Your chakra control could use some work,” Iruka commented as he plodded over to the wide entryway between the kitchen and the living room.

“Well he also said that Sasuke’s chakra control isn’t perfect either, so there!” Naruto crossed his arms with a sage-like nod as if he was excused from any need to improve simply because Sasuke wasn’t perfect.

Iruka copied Naruto’s crossed arms and leaned against the wall, thankful to let something else hold him up for a moment. “Did you two do anything else other than talk?”

“He took me to the women’s bathhouse so I could learn to walk on water.” Naruto rolled his eyes. “Ebisu-sensei is such a perv! He fell for my Sexy Jutsu twice today!”

Iruka sighed and slunk back into the kitchen to start working on the simple, convenient dinner he had decided on. “Naruto, what have I told you about using that jutsu?” he asked as he grabbed the carton of eggs out of the fridge. 

“To not to,” Naruto grumbled. “But sometimes it comes in handy!”

“How could it ever come in handy?” Iruka questioned distractedly as he went back to the fridge and pulled out the random assortment of vegetables that were about to go bad. He spread them out on a cutting board and began dicing them with quick, efficient knife strokes that were maybe a little more violent than they should have been. He’d already taken out the majority of his misplaced anger on an undeserving man today, before taking out his correctly placed anger on himself, so the innocent vegetables were just getting the remaining bits of his bad mood. 

“It came in handy today!” Naruto protested. “I used it to convince an even pervier old man to train me!”

Iruka nodded as he finished chopping the vegetables with a flourish and picked up a couple of eggs to crack into a bowl. “Mm, that’s good, Naruto…”

“Yeah, believe it!” Naruto shouted in agreement. “Pervy Sage said he’s going to teach me how to summon giant toads! I’m going to be so strong that Sasuke and that horrible Neji guy won’t stand a chance!”

Iruka nodded again while absently staring at the stove top. He could still feel his anger and misery simmering below the surface, and as good as it would feel to let it have free range, he really did want to have something edible to show at the end of the process. Access to a flame was not what he needed right now. “Naruto,” he called into the living room, “can you come preheat the pan while I whisk the eggs?”

“Aw, fine.” Naruto grumbled, but he still hurried into the kitchen without any true complaints. 

Ten minutes later, the eggs were done, and thanks to Naruto taking over the cooking process, they weren’t burned. They were a little more scrambled than a typical omelette thanks to Naruto’s subpar flipping skills, but appearances weren’t important when it came to homemade food. At least, that’s how Iruka always viewed things. 

They ate their simple dinner at the kotatsu as they always did, although they both leaned on the table a bit more than usual, Naruto because of how exhausted he was from Ebisu-sensei’s training and Iruka because his back was still throwing a fit from his misery-induced time laying on the ground. 

“Thanks for the help in the kitchen,” Iruka said as he speared a piece of egg.

“No problem!” Naruto replied with a chipper grin. The smile quickly faded, though, leaving a worried look on his whiskered face that didn’t suit him. “But are you okay, Iruka-nii? You look kind of… upset?”

Iruka waved a hand and forced a smile onto his face. “It’s nothing, Naruto! Don’t worry about it.”

Naruto looked completely unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Kakashi-san and I just had some words after you left with Ebisu-sensei. He said that Sasuke is going to be out of the hospital in a few days, but, ah—” Iruka caught himself before he accidentally mentioned something about Orochimaru, “—he’s going to need some extra attention. So Kakashi-san is going to take him out of the village to do some training together, and they’ll be back in time for the chuunin exam final.”

“What!” Naruto screeched.

Iruka jerked away, hands instinctively slapping over his ears. “Naruto, inside voice!”

“Sasuke gets Kakash-sensei all to himself! That’s not fair!”

“No, it’s not fair,” Iruka agreed with a heavy sigh, “but it’s what has to be done. Kakashi-san has a good reason for it. Besides, your new sensei may be a secret pervert, but he has a lot of useful things he can teach you.”

Naruto shuddered. “It’s not a secret.”

Iruka blinked. Had Ebisu-sensei started reading the Icha Icha series openly, too? That must’ve been a recent development considering he liked to act morally superior to most other ninja. 

Naruto was still pouting about Kakashi leaving him by the wayside though, so Iruka decided to use the old standby to cheer him up. “It’s going to be all right, Naruto. Like you said, you’re going to learn so much that no one else will be able to keep up with you! Besides, if you had left the village with Kakashi-sensei, you wouldn’t be able to have Ichiraku Ramen for a whole month.”

The gears in Naruto’s mind seemed to make the necessary rotations and he nodded reluctantly. “Hm, that’s true. Can we get Ichiraku’s tomorrow?”

“We just ate there yesterday!”

“Yeah, but I’m going to be training hard, believe it! I have to keep my strength up!”

Iruka already knew from experience that pointing out the fact that ramen wasn’t the best food for maintaining stamina wouldn’t have any effect. So instead, he tried a different strategy. “Unfortunately, I think I’m going to be stuck at the academy a bit late over the next few days.” Before Naruto could protest, Iruka pushed on, “But, first thing next week, I’ll treat you. How about that?”

Naruto squinted at Iruka like he was trying to gauge how truthful he was being about his schedule. Eventually though, he gave in. “Fine, but no going back on your word!” He jabbed his chopsticks towards Iruka.

Iruka placed his hand over his heart. “Of course not. It’s my ninja way!”

00000

True to his word, at the start of the next week Iruka left the academy after school was out and went directly to Ichiraku Ramen. Somehow, he was the only customer there, which was a bit shocking considering he’d told Naruto he’d be able to leave the Academy at a normal time, finally. He nodded politely at Ayame when she greeted him and then asked, “Has Naruto dropped by and left a tab for me to pay lately?”

“Not since the last time, Iruka-sensei,” Ayame replied as she picked up a freshly washed ramen bowl and began wiping it down with a dry cloth. “He did stop by a couple days ago with his new sensei. I think he might’ve cleaned the man’s wallet out.” She chuckled.

“As the person who usually pays for Naruto’s ramen inhalation, I feel his pain,” Iruka commented good-naturedly. “It’s good that Ebisu-sensei is treating him to some food, though. It seems his training has been putting Naruto through the wringer.”

“Ebisu-sensei?” Ayame repeated. Her constantly moving hands froze. “Naruto did eat here with him once, but that isn’t who—”

“Iruka-nii!” 

Iruka spun around just in time to see a blur of orange hurtling under Ichiraku’s awning. “Ah, there you are! I was starting to think you’d gotten so caught up in your training that you’d forgotten we were supposed to meet!”

“I would never forget about ramen!” Naruto shouted, looking vaguely offended at the insinuation. “I wanted to leave thirty minutes ago, but Pervy Sage was too busy spying on a bunch of girls in swimsuits! I had to scare them away to get him to leave, believe it!”

Iruka grimaced. “I might need to have a word with him. His… hobbies sound like they’re getting a little out of control.”

Naruto gasped and clasped his hands together. “Please talk to him, Iruka-nii! If anyone could make him stop it would be you!”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but—”

“Naruto, are you in there?” a voice that sounded distinctly not like Ebisu-sensei called from outside. 

A confused frown tugged down on the corner of Iruka’s mouth as he swivelled on his stool to see the man Naruto had been training with duck into Ichiraku Ramen. Instead of the bandana style hitai-ate and dark spectacles, what greeted the chuunin was a long, spiky, white ponytail and crimson, tear-like tattoos extending from sharp eyes. The man was giant, both in body and presence, and he only seemed bigger because of the bright red haori he was wearing. A bolt of recognition struck Iruka and he let out a startled squeak. 

Jiraiya, one of the three legendary Sannin of the Hidden Leaf, grinned widely at Naruto. “You are here,” he commented unnecessarily before his dark gaze landed on Iruka. “And you must be Umino Iruka! It’s good to finally meet you in person.” He clapped Iruka on the shoulder, his wide palm a hefty weight. “I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I already know you!”

“Um, what?” Iruka blinked and shook his head, internally screaming at himself to get it together. “Where have you heard of me?” He couldn’t help his nose scrunching up in confusion and crinkling his scar as he contemplated what information this famous ninja had somehow collected about someone as unimportant as him.

“Oh, here and there. This one talks about you nonstop,” Jiraiya gestured at Naruto, “usually to complain and tell me that I’m inferior to you in every way. Lord Third has mentioned you almost every time I’ve dropped by for a visit over the last five years. He’s the one who told me you became Naruto’s guardian, and I have to say I’m happy to see that you’ve done such a good job helping him grow and keeping him out of trouble.”

All feelings of hero worship dissolved as a sour acid boiled up in Iruka’s gut from the unwelcome reminder that this amazingly powerful, yet blockheadedly irresponsible man was Naruto’s godfather, a fact that had caused a small bump in the road of Naruto’s adoption which Hiruzen had thankfully had the authority to smooth over. Iruka’s fingers twitched with the urge to tear into the Sannin, to yell at him, to rip him apart for abandoning Naruto. The urge was so strong that for a second his vision went red. But with the memory of his last blow up still fresh on his mind, he could not give in. So instead Iruka restrained himself with a sweet smile and said in his most pleasant, civilized tone, “Well, someone had to raise him.”

The undercurrent of pure, murderous, parental rage did not go unnoticed by Jiraiya. The larger man fell back a step, eyes darting hesitantly between Iruka and Naruto, who was placing his order and completely oblivious to the killing intent radiating off his guardian. After a moment, Jiraiya cautiously sidled around Iruka so that he was standing behind Naruto. He nudged the boy, plastering a carefree look on his face again as he did so. 

“Here Naruto, scoot down a seat. Your Iruka-sensei and I need to have a talk.”

“Aw, what about? I want to listen,” Naruto whined.

Jiraiya impatiently shooed the boy off his stool. “You’d be bored. It’s just some adult talk that—”

Naruto’s face immediately screwed up. “Ew, you better not be talking about girls again!” He shifted his focus to Iruka. “Yell at him and make him stop being so pervy, Iruka-nii!” And with that last demand, he climbed onto the next stool over to eagerly await his ramen. 

Iruka watched in bemusement as the Sannin took Naruto’s abandoned stool. “What do we have to talk about?”

Jiraiya quirked an eyebrow. “About how it was incredibly smart for Sandaime to appoint you as Naruto’s guardian.”

The embers of rage nearly rekindled in full at that statement. “I wasn’t appointed . I volunteered to be Naruto’s guardian because I care about him,” Iruka corrected disgruntledly. The distinction might not have been important to someone viewing their small family from the outside, but to Iruka it meant a great deal. “Don’t talk about our relationship like it was a mission I was assigned.”

“You’re saying that your guardianship over Naruto was in no way engineered by Lord Third? He didn’t push you towards the boy at all?” Jiraiya looked less than convinced.

“What? No! You’re making it sound like the Hokage manipulated me into taking in Naruto. That’s ridiculous!” Iruka argued.

“If he didn’t then the situation is awfully convenient, but that’s not what I’m here for.” The Toad Sage waved his fingers through the air, effectively sweeping the subject under the proverbial rug. “As I was saying before we got off topic, it’s a good thing you’re Naruto’s guardian.”

Iruka smiled thankfully as Ayame set his order in front of him. “I know that it’s a good thing I’m Naruto’s guardian, but why do you think so?” he asked as he picked up his chopsticks and gave the ramen a good stir, searching for a tasty bite.

“Well, while Naruto and I were training, I discovered that someone had tampered with the Eight Trigrams Seal keeping the Nine Tails locked away.”

Iruka dropped his chopsticks into his bowl, sloshing a bit of hot broth into his lap. “What?” he hissed, risking a glance around Jiraiya to see if Naruto looked any different than usual. The boy was the same as always though, right down to the enormous mouthfuls of ramen he was shovelling into his mouth. “Is he okay? It didn’t hurt him, did it?”

“I fixed the seal before it could become a real problem,” Jiraiya stated. “It was a fairly easy fix, too, all things considered, but the fact that someone accessed the seal and messed with it at all is worrying.” He pointed a thick finger at the chuunin. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I heard from Kakashi that you’re rather adept when it comes to fuuinjutsu.”

Iruka nearly choked and sent himself into a coughing fit. “Kakashi-san talked to you about me?” he rasped as soon as he’d hacked up the noodles that had tried to go down the wrong pipe.

“He did,” Jiraiya confirmed. “Wouldn’t shut up about you, in fact.” The Toad Sage took in Iruka’s flabbergasted expression and a regretful grimace took over his face. “Something is telling me that I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Iruka shook his head in denial. “It’s just that Kakashi-san and I, er, haven’t exactly been on speaking terms lately, so I’m just surprised he would speak so highly of me.”

“Ah well, speak highly of you he did. Excessively.” Jiraiya smirked and Iruka could tell that his amusement hid another emotion beneath it, but whatever it was the older man didn’t voice it. 

“But anyway, Kakashi’s high regard for you and your talents, as well as the Third Hokage’s trust in you, is why I’m here.”

“It is?” Iruka asked a bit faintly. 

“Yes.” Jiraiya paused, almost like he was hoping to create some kind of dramatic effect. Iruka crossed his arms impatiently.

Seeing that the chuunin sensei was not one to be impressed by his act, Jiraiya gave in. “At the moment, I am Konoha’s foremost master on fuuinjutsu, but from what I’ve heard you are well on your way to taking that title away from me. With a little practice, and some guidance from yours truly, you could be one of the best fuuinjutsu masters this village has seen in a long time!”

Iruka blinked. “You want to teach me fuuinjutsu?”

“You already taught yourself fuuinjutsu. I simply want to pass on some of my more advanced knowledge,” Jiraiya corrected. “That way, if anything ever happens to Naruto’s seal again, you’ll be able to handle it. You’ll also be able to protect him better than you can at the moment, keep him safe from anyone in the village who might want to do him harm, that kind of thing.” He cleared his throat. “And the elders will be able to turn to you with any seals problems that might crop up so they won’t feel the need to track me down and drag me back. It’s a win-win situation!”

“I’ll be able to protect Naruto better, huh?” Iruka squinted at the Sannin. “You’re just doing this because you’re trying to make up for not being around when Naruto needed you, aren’t you.” He kept his voice low so as to keep the boy from hearing his accusation.

Jiraiya sighed heavily. “Think whatever you’d like to; just accept my offer.” He pulled a thick scroll out, and pressed it into the chuunin’s space. “Besides, even if I am trying to make up for the past, it won’t change the present. You’re the closest thing Naruto has to family and nothing, not even an old man’s attempt at atonement, is going to change that. That is a missed opportunity I’m never getting back. Now please, even if you won’t accept my training, at least accept this scroll so you can continue to keep Naruto safe, even if he thinks he doesn’t need it.”

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut. It was like the Sannin knew exactly what to say to get Iruka to say yes. But, even if there was some manipulation happening, Jiraiya’s intentions were good. 

“What’s in the scroll?”

“It’s information about the Eight Trigrams Seal: how it works, its weaknesses, different troubleshooting methods if something seems to be going wrong or it begins to weaken.”

Iruka reached out and took the scroll. “I respect that you’re trying to make amends,” Iruka stated. “It may be a little late, but at least you’re trying. Because of that, and because it could help Naruto, I will gladly accept your training.”

Jiraiya clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He pointed at the scroll held firmly in Iruka’s hand. “Memorize everything on there, and once the chuunin exams are over and we both have a little more time on our hands, we can meet up for some more in-depth training.”

Iruka slipped the scroll into one of his vest pockets. “Sounds good. How long are you going to stay in the village this time?”

“As long as it takes,” Jiraiya stated vaguely. “I think this will be a good partnership. Minato would’ve liked you!”

Iruka had barely absorbed that statement before Jiraiya was standing up and ruffling Naruto’s hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow kid, bright and early! We’ve got to get your summoning skills up to par!” The Sannin ignored Naruto’s complaint about early mornings and nodded at Iruka. “Don’t forget to study, sensei!” And then he slipped out of Ichiraku’s and wandered off to who knows where. Most likely the nearest bathhouse, Iruka thought wryly. 

Naruto’s curious blue eyes locked onto his guardian. “Iruka-nii, what did the Pervy Sage mean by that? What are you studying?”

Iruka scratched at his chin. “Oh nothing much. He gave me a scroll about fuuinjutsu that I need to look over, and if he sticks around long enough I might become a student of his, too.”

Naruto’s nose wrinkled up. “Then we’d both have the same teacher. That would be weird!”

“Not weird,” Iruka protested. 

“Yes weird, believe it!”

“Not weird.”

“Yes weird!”

“How many bowls have you eaten already?” Iruka asked, breaking the loop before they got stuck in it. 

“Four!”

Iruka shook his head. “Four bowls already? It’s going to be a double digit kind of meal, isn’t it?”

Naruto gave Iruka a cheeky grin. “It sure is!”

Iruka pressed his lips together as he dug out his wallet to make sure he had enough money to cover the expenses he was about to incur. 

00000

Once Naruto had eaten so much ramen that he could barely sit up straight, Iruka put almost all the money from his wallet on the counter and hauled Naruto to his feet. “Alright, I think it’s time to head home. You need to rest so you can do your best tomorrow with— what was it you’re learning? Summoning Jutsu?”

“Yeah, I’m going to summon a giant toad! No more small fries! Believe it!” Naruto pumped his fist in the air and then nearly keeled over with a groan. “Iruka-nii, can you carry me?”

“Carry you!” Iruka chuckled. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

Naruto dramatically fell to his knees, reaching out like a dehydrated man in the desert. “I… can’t… walk….”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Fine, but maybe this should be a lesson in learning when to stop eating.” He turned and crouched down so Naruto would have an easier time climbing onto his back. Once the boy was in place, Iruka said goodbye to Teuchi and Ayame.

Iruka strolled slowly back towards the apartment with Naruto’s arms draped limply over his shoulders and soft snores breathing in his ear. As ridiculous as the situation was, Iruka couldn’t find it in himself to truly be annoyed at having to give the genin a piggyback ride. He’d been training hard after all, and even if he hadn’t been, Iruka knew he could never refuse such a simple request.

Iruka’s amused thoughts about Naruto had him circling back around to the unsettling comment that Jiraiya had said earlier: “You’re saying that your guardianship over Naruto was in no way engineered by Lord Third? …It’s awfully convenient if that’s the case.”

And it was. And now Iruka was ruminating on all the little things that had made it seem like the world was telling him that Naruto needed him. First it was Sandaime assigning a reluctant Iruka to Naruto’s class, which let him see that the Nine Tails Jinchuuriki was really just a lonely boy. Then a few stray comments here and there about how similar Naruto was to Iruka when he was the boy’s age. Then Lord Third making a few quick excuses whenever Iruka brought up Naruto’s deplorable living conditions. A delighted, but unsurprised Hiruzen saying he’d been expecting the news when Iruka announced his intent to adopt the boy. Iruka waking up after Mizuki’s betrayal to find that Hiruzen had already gotten Naruto to sign the adoption papers. Even the smooth way that Jiraiya’s guardianship had been pushed aside like it didn’t matter.

Iruka found himself at a standstill in the middle of the road as all his thoughts shifted into one alarming question: Had Lord Third actually manipulated Iruka into wanting to be Naruto’s guardian?

It seemed completely out of the question, and yet, it made a lot of sense. There were good reasons for Naruto to be placed in Iruka’s care, as fuuinjutsu and barrier seals may not have been flashy like other techniques, but they were especially useful when it came to protecting people. It had already been proven on a few occasions that Iruka’s wards were strong enough to keep out just about anyone. Not to mention Iruka was good with kids and was Naruto’s teacher at the academy, so anywhere he went Iruka would already be there to watch over him. 

The more Iruka thought about it, the more likely it seemed that the Hokage had, in fact, orchestrated his guardianship. It might have been subtle, but subtle manipulation was still manipulation. 

Something sour curdled in Iruka’s stomach. He forced himself to start walking again, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. The thought was too deeply wedged into his brain to go away though. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop dwelling on it, like a sore in his mouth that his tongue refused to leave alone. Over and over the discomfiting possibility twirled through his mind, making his lip curl.

By the time he reached the apartment, he was so distracted that he nearly forgot to undo his wards before opening the door, a mistake he’d only made once before. He walked directly to Naruto’s room and gently laid the boy down on his bed, careful not to wake him up. He slipped the boy’s shoes off, laid a cover on top of him, and quietly left the room.

Right before he clicked the door shut, he couldn’t help peeking back into the room at Naruto. His innocent face was squished into the pillow in his sleep, blond hair standing out starkly against the dark covers. A smile broke across Iruka’s face, and he closed the door.

Right then and there, he decided that it didn’t matter if Sandaime had carefully pushed Iruka into the slot he now filled in Naruto’s life. Even if he had actually been assigned guardianship over Naruto as a long term mission, it still wouldn’t matter. 

He and Naruto were family. Iruka had volunteered to be there for Naruto, and even if it wasn’t completely of his own free will, he wanted to be there. And that was what mattered.

They were family.

Iruka nodded firmly before striding into his kitchen to make himself a calming cup of tea.

“If the subject does ever come up though, I’m going to give Hiruzen a piece of my mind,” Iruka grumbled to himself. “And then we’ll have a long talk about the appropriate way to get people to do things.”

Chapter Text

Iruka never got to talk to Lord Third. The Sound and Sand’s attack on Konoha happened so quickly that it all just became a panicked blur. One minute he was standing in his classroom wishing he could be at the arena to support Naruto and the other genin; the next he was evacuating his students to the caves beneath Hokage Rock. It was a tense few hours trying to keep the children calm while swapping out guard duty with the other teachers. 

The roars and screams of fighting managed to travel through the thick stone walls into the dark tunnels. The noises were all the more worrying because it was impossible to tell which side was winning the struggle. Every clink of two kunai meeting or whoosh of a jutsu being used seemed to be amplified in the small space. Most of his time off guard duty was spent comforting the children who were cowering against the damp cave walls. Even the ones who were pretending that they weren’t scared in the beginning had given up the act a couple of hours in and welcomed any assurances that they could get.

At the insistence of Suzume-sensei, Iruka layered additional barrier seals onto the existing ones around the evacuation shelter’s entrance. Thankfully the extra precautions weren’t needed. Once the all clear was given and the wards were all deactivated, the students and teachers climbed out of the shelter only to receive the worst possible news. 

Hiruzen’s death had created a numb, unbalanced feeling in Iruka that he hadn’t felt in years. Not since his parents died. And he knew that Naruto was going through his own form of grieving because he hadn’t bragged even once about defeating Gaara of the Sand. Not even to say that he’d saved Sasuke. In fact, Iruka’d found out about the battle secondhand from Asuma, although Iruka was sure that once the sorrow passed, Naruto would regale him with his own version of the story that was twice as dramatic and full of explanatory onomatopoeias.

It was only now, as he helped Naruto find the funeral clothes they owned but had never worn, that Iruka’s numbness began to fade. Feelings of sorrow and regret over unfinished business were rushing in and filling him up. He was so close to overflowing, to breaking down, but he couldn't. Not yet.

Sasuke and Sakura were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs outside their apartment. Together the four of them walked solemnly to where the funeral was going to be held. It was the quietest Iruka had ever heard Team 7 be while they were all together. The gloomy mood was reflected in the overcast sky. The clouds were so dark and heavy that they seemed to sit right on top of the village, adding another layer to the despondent atmosphere. Watery sunlight kept attempting to sneak through, but every time a few rays managed to find their way to the ground they were smothered almost immediately.

A large crowd had already formed by the time Iruka and Team 7 arrived at the funeral. Like the trained shinobi that they were, everyone had naturally formed orderly rows without any prompting. As Hiruzen’s only remaining family, Asuma and Konohamaru were already in their honorary places at the front of the gathering. Iruka quickly joined the two Sarutobis with Naruto trailing quietly after him. As soon as he saw him, Konohamaru immediately latched onto Iruka’s leg, and Asuma took the opportunity to subtly press against Kurenai who had been hovering next to him. Iruka couldn’t help noticing that the kunoichi looked unusually pale in her funeral clothes; the black leeched color out of her in a way her usual reds and whites never did. 

Not too long after, the funeral started. Everyone took their turn paying their respects. Iruka coaxed Konohamaru forward so that he could have his chance to say his last goodbye. As Iruka stood there with his head bowed and his hand on the boy that was his nephew in every way but blood, he couldn’t help thinking about the day Hiruzen had found him weeping in front of the Memorial Stone a year after the Kyuubi’s attack. The Hokage had dried his tears, comforted him, and then brought him to his house, sat him down next to a confused Asuma, and fed him. He’d been a part of the Sarutobi family ever since. And now he needed to be there to comfort Konohamaru and Naruto the same way that the Sandaime had been there to comfort him.

As they shuffled back to their place in line, the grey sky opened up and rain began pouring from the heavens. To Iruka’s right, he heard Asuma mutter, “The sky has started crying, too.”

Iruka nodded, ignoring the pressure behind his eyes that was urging him to let go like the sky had. Instead, he knelt down and hugged a sobbing Konohamaru to his side.

Naruto tugged on Iruka’s left sleeve. “Iruka-nii, why do people risk their own lives for other people?”

“I know it seems confusing because dying means giving up all the dreams you have. But everyone has something that is even more important to them: their parents, siblings, friends, lovers, countless people that are precious to them.” Iruka squeezed Konohamaru tighter. “It can’t be explained by logic. People risk their lives for others because of the love they hold for them.”

Naruto sniffed. “I guess I kind of get it, but it still seems terrible to die like that.”

A subdued tenor belonging to Kakashi responded, sending a slight zip of alarm down Iruka’s spine that left an aftertaste of shame in his mouth. “Lord Third didn’t die for nothing. He left us something very important, and one of these days you’ll understand.”

“Yeah, I kind of get that, too,” Naruto murmured.

Iruka glanced over his shoulder at the silver-haired jounin who was standing ramrod straight for once and acting for all the world like he’d been in that spot since the funeral began even though Iruka knew for a fact that he hadn’t. Today was not a day for grudges or judgement, though. 

“Thank you,” Iruka mouthed with a small smile.

Kakashi dipped his head in acknowledgement, the minute movement enough for a shower of water drops to fling themselves off the ends of his hair.

00000

The rain came to a stop at almost the exact same time that the funeral ended. The gathered shinobi all turned and went their separate ways, and as the crowd dispersed Asuma sent Iruka a slightly pleading look with a quick motion towards Konohamaru. Kurenai’s hands were wrapped around the jounin’s bicep, her touch on the wet fabric a steadying gesture. Asuma was likely feeling a lot of emotions that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with, and if anyone could help him deal with those, it would be Kurenai.

Iruka nodded. “Konohamaru can stay with me tonight.” There was no need to make the poor boy sleep alone in what would be a very big, very empty house on the night of his grandfather’s funeral.

Asuma dipped his head in thanks and began walking in the direction of the jounin housing. Kurenai’s red eyes were wetter than usual as she whispered a quiet thank you to Iruka before quickly catching up to Asuma. They trailed away like ghosts in a fog.

Iruka straightened up and put one hand on Naruto’s shoulder and the other on Konohamaru’s messy head of hair to guide them back to the apartment. Naruto at least no longer seemed horribly upset. In fact, a bright glimmer of hope had taken root and chased away his sorrow, the same way the shining sun had overtaken the once cloudy sky. Konohamaru, though, was still silent with stray tears dripping down his cheek every once in a while, but he was no longer openly sobbing. He had likely calmed down enough that he would be able to eat, which was good considering that his stomach had begun growling loud enough for even Naruto to notice it.

Once they got to the apartment, Iruka herded Konohamaru and Naruto to the couch. He didn’t even bother scolding Naruto when he kicked his shoes off against the wall. The day was too tender for that. The wounds too fresh.

Iruka numbly heated up some leftover soup. He found himself mulling over the bubbling pot for a little too long and ended up scalding the bottom a little bit. Once he’d scraped out the burnt bits there wasn’t enough to make a full meal for all three of them, so he gave his entire portion to Konohamaru and made himself some tea instead. 

As soon as they were done eating, Iruka ushered the two boys to bed. It was still relatively early, but Iruka knew from experience that sorrow was exhausting and could sap the energy from even the most energetic of people. That fact was exhibited by Naruto’s slow blinks and barely stifled yawns.

Konohamaru climbed into the bed after Naruto, and Iruka tucked the covers around both of them. He smiled a bit roughly at the way both boys fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows. Iruka had to stop himself from wiping away the remains of tear tracks on Konohamaru’s cheeks and accidentally waking him up again. Instead, he simply turned out the light and let the door click shut behind him.

Silence descended, all the more powerful as this was the first time Iruka had been alone that day— maybe the first time since he’d received the news of Sandaime’s death. There was no one around to see him. No one around that he needed to put up a strong front for.

Iruka plodded back into the living room and collapsed into the drab chair usually reserved for unwanted guests. The springs poked into the back of his thighs, but he barely even felt them. His head fell forward into his waiting hands, and just like that, he let himself go.

Tears poured out of him in unending rivulets. His shoulders shook and his fingers tremored. He cried so hard he could barely even breathe. And yet he was completely silent. His sorrow was too intense to leave any room for noise. Just tears.

He cried for the village and the losses that everyone experienced. He cried for his students, current and former, who had to live through such a horrible event. But most of all, Iruka cried for the loss of the man who had been his leader, his father-figure, the first to encourage and trust him, the only one to make sure he had a home to go to.

Hiruzen had not been perfect, but no one really was. And now Iruka would never be able to talk to him again. His questions would never be answered and any wisdom or explanations Lord Third had left to give were silenced forever.

At last, Iruka’s tears began to dry, leaving his cheeks salty and his nose runny. He fell back against the chair’s stiff back cushion and stayed there until his thirst drove him to stand up. He moved to the kitchen and poured himself another cup of the now tepid tea. As he sipped at it, he meandered back to the chair, feeling a bit lost both mentally and physically.

He sat back down, winced at the pinch of the springs, and then nearly hit the ceiling when a rhythmic tapping echoed through the room. Iruka glanced around with a wet sniff. His eyes were so swollen and red that he found himself blinking much more than usual. So much more that he nearly missed the flash of silver hair outside the window. He blanched when he realized who he was looking at. 

“Kakashi?”

Iruka shook his head, but moved over to the window to deactivate the wards and traps. Once that was done he unlatched the window and swung it open.

Iruka cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly thankful for the dim lighting that would hide his red eyes. “Kakashi-san.”

“Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka waited for the other man to say more, or do something, but he remained impassive, dark eye locked onto Iruka’s face. At last he gave in. “You can come in if you want,” he offered a bit weakly. “There’s no reason for you to stay out there.”

Kakashi flowed into the living room like water being poured into a cup. He moved with such fluidity that it made Iruka feel like the man’s stiffly jointed namesake in comparison.

Kakashi’s footfalls were silent as he padded across the room. At first Iruka thought he was going to the genkan to remove his shoes, but instead he walked right by it to peek into the kitchen. 

Iruka’s nose scrunched up. “What are you doing here? Naruto and Konohamaru are already asleep if you’re looking for them.” He sniffed instinctively as his nose threatened to drip and cursed himself when Kakashi immediately turned to glance at him.

“I wasn’t looking for them. I came to check on you.” He dipped his head back towards the kitchen where Iruka knew the remains of Naruto and Konohamaru’s meal were lying in the sink. “I see that you haven’t eaten anything.”

The overwhelming wave of sadness that had nearly smothered him began to recede under Kakashi’s gaze. Iruka could feel his back straightening, preparing to carry the weight of strength and solidity again, however unwillingly. “I wasn’t hungry. I just made myself some tea instead.”

Kakashi’s eyebrow climbed towards his hair line. He picked up said cup of tea and gave it a quick sniff. “I’m no expert, but I do think that this kind of tea usually tastes better when it’s warm.”

Suddenly Iruka couldn’t take it anymore. There was a powerful river pressing against the dam he’d hastily erected and if he didn’t get Kakashi out of his apartment now, he was going to break down in front of the jounin, and that was a humiliation he didn’t think he could stand.

“Kakashi-san, thank you for coming to check on me, but I’m fine.” He moved back towards the window, talking as he did, “Now, if you would so kindly—”

“Iruka, stop lying.” Kakashi’s voice was so dry, so commanding, that Iruka couldn’t even find it in himself to protest. “I watched you at the funeral. You were the solid rock that everyone else leaned on. Even Asuma relied on you to keep it together so he could take time to mourn. But you were close to Lord Third, too. You need time. You need your own support.”

Iruka couldn’t help the small fire of offense and denial that blazed up. It gave him just enough strength to deny it once. “No, I’m fine. Today I got to see how Hiruzen passed down the will of fire to the next generation. The flame in their hearts burns bright and strong, and will shine over this village to protect us. That is everything I need.”

Kakashi’s eyebrow was doing a complicated maneuver now and displaying an emotion that Iruka couldn’t quite decipher. “Iruka-sensei, I’m not one of your students. You don’t have to pretend in front of me.” He gave a haphazard shrug of his shoulders. “You haven’t felt the need to do it before, so there’s no need to start now.”

Iruka sucked in a breath, fully prepared to deny that he was pretending about anything, but the sudden shift in Kakashi’s demeanor kept him quiet. The jounin was glaring down at his feet, his hands shoved so far into his pockets that it was a miracle he hadn’t torn them right out of his pants. Iruka observed the other man’s posture for a few minutes longer, and then instead of yelling out in denial Iruka found himself murmuring the jounin’s name. “Kakashi-san…”

“I know I am not the ideal person, but if you need someone to listen, then I can do that for you.” Kakashi’s voice was barely above a whisper by the end, but Iruka still heard every word. It unlocked something in his chest, something that he hadn’t even known had been locked. And yet the rush of relief he felt was tremendous. It made his knees so weak that he almost fell to the floor.

As if sensing his weakness, Kakashi hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him over to the couch. Iruka sat down sideways with a squeak of the cushions. His hands immediately went to the back of the couch and wound into the plush frog blanket laying there, just searching for something to latch onto.

Kakashi sat on the opposite side of the couch. He was doing his best to be unobtrusive to the point that the cushion barely moved when he settled his weight on it. This dear man, walking on eggshells around Iruka to try and bring him comfort when no one else would or could—

And Iruka had been treating him horribly for over a month now. He’d been so cold and needlessly cruel. Bad enough that he’d even managed to get a rise out of the unflappable Kakashi. And while it may have felt justified at the time, Iruka’s pride had been stripped away enough now for him to realize he’d gone too far. And as he’d already decided once that evening, this was not the day for grudges or judgement.

“Kakashi, I’m so sorry for what I said to you that day in the hospital.”

“Maa, sensei, don’t say anything you’ll regret now.”

Iruka kicked at Kakashi’s dangling leg, missed, and hit the side of the couch instead. “I’m being serious, asshole!” He knew the teasing in Kakashi’s voice must be the jounin trying not to get pulled into Iruka’s emotional black hole, but Iruka was tired, sad, and had already cried to the point of dehydration. He was not able or willing to put up a front now.

“I should never have said that you don’t care if your students live or die. It’s completely untrue, and I only said it because I thought it would hurt you. My temper got the better of me, and I am so, so sorry.” Iruka couldn’t bring himself to meet Kakashi’s gaze. The shame forced him to keep his flushed face tilted downwards. “I really am sorry.”

“I know. Although, now that you’ve admitted that, it means you’ve officially been wrong three times now.”

Iruka’s head shot up. “You’re still keeping count, I see.” He chuckled weakly. “But— do you forgive me?”

Kakashi's gaze was unwavering. “We’ll see.”

“Oh. That’s fair.” Tears once again flooded Iruka’s eyes, but they weren’t from despair at not being immediately forgiven. They were tears of relief from having finally addressed the shame that had been accumulating since their very first argument before the chuunin exams. He swiped at his cheeks as the tears poured down. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that.” Somewhere along the way, Kakashi had scooted close enough to be able to place his hand awkwardly on Iruka’s shoulder. It was now Kakashi who couldn’t meet Iruka’s eyes.

For the chuunin though, the simple touch was grounding and helped dry his tears faster. A touch on the shoulder was certainly not the hug that Iruka desired, but he was sure that if he attempted to get that from Kakashi the man might implode. He already looked so out of his depth. No, if Iruka wanted a hug he would have to wait until Naruto woke up.

Once Iruka’s tears had dried and his eyes had reverted to a more normal level of swollen redness, he sighed. “Thank you, Kakashi-san. You didn’t have to do this. I know that being surrounded by high emotions isn’t exactly your favorite thing.”

“Hm?”

“Well, I noticed that you missed most of the funeral. Not that I’m judging you. I know not everyone gets closure from them.”

Kakashi rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s not why I was late. I was actually paying my respects to an old friend first.”

Iruka blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright.” Kakashi glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. “Actually, I ran into Jiraiya while I was there.”

Iruka nodded slowly. “Yes, I noticed he didn’t show up at the funeral either.”

“Apparently the elders are already trying to convince him to become the next Hokage.”

“They sure didn’t waste any time,” Iruka noted with a half judging, half wet sniff.

“No, but if Jiraiya has it his way they won’t be able to ask him. I’m sure he’ll be leaving Konoha as soon as possible.”

A shard of disappointment pierced Iruka’s heart, although it was barely felt next to all the other emotions that were filling him to the brim. “Ah, there goes my chance to train with him,” he murmured.

“Maa, if you can find him before he leaves you might be able to convince him to hang around longer,” Kakashi suggested.

“No, no, I wouldn’t want to burden him. Besides, he gave me a scroll to further my fuuinjutsu knowledge already; I’ll just have to make the most of that.” Iruka scratched at his nose. “I should tell you thank you, though.”

Kakashi tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. “What for?”

“You’re the one who convinced him to teach me, aren’t you?”

“Ah.” Kakashi glanced away. “He told you that?”

The chuunin shrugged. “Not in so many words, but it wasn’t hard to figure out from what he did say.”

Kakashi scratched at the back of his head again. “Well you deserve it.”

A calm silence descended on them, almost like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Iruka pulled his legs up and curled around them, resting his chin on his knees. Even Kakashi’s breathing slowed to a more relaxed pace. Having him there was a bit like having a cat in the room with him: sleep inducing. Iruka’s blinks grew slower and slower and the whirling of his mind turned to a lazy crawl. His head had just dipped forward in the first stages of nodding off when Kakashi pushed himself to his feet.

“I should be going, and you need to go to bed before you fall asleep sitting up.”

Iruka stared blankly at Kakashi for a moment before the words finally sank into his sleep-addled mind. “Mm, you’re right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before hauling himself up off the couch. “My back will hate me for weeks if I fall asleep here.”

He followed Kakashi back to the window he’d come through. “You know, you could just use the door like a normal person.”

Kakashi gave him a dead-eyed stare as he flipped the lock on the window and pushed it open.

Iruka didn’t bother commenting again, just reached out to close the window back as the eccentric jounin climbed out. Before he’d shut it though, Kakashi turned back to him.

“If you ever need to talk or, or anything, my apartment is in the jounin residential area.”

“That makes sense.”

The silver-haired man hesitated a moment, then added, “Building 3, top floor, last door on the right. If you need anything.”

Iruka’s eyes widened. He could feel the urge to say something daring on the tip of his tongue. He could offer to drop by for a visit, bring some food, return the favor of company. Something, anything, to get closer again and erase the last month and a half from their memories. But the urge passed. This wasn’t the time.

“Thank you, Kakashi-san. For everything,” was all he managed.

Kakashi gazed at him for a moment. He looked like he was on the balls of his feet, ready for movement. But then he settled back down and a shadowy crease appeared in his mask. “Have a good night, Iruka-sensei.” And he was gone in a puff of smoke like he’d never been there at all.

The ache in Iruka’s heart returned full force, except now it was for more than just Sandaime’s death. When he closed the window it felt a bit like he was closing it on Kakashi, too. 

They had potential. The brief moment they’d had together as… whatever they’d been had proven that. But now, after everything that had happened recently… Maybe they were just ships passing in the night after all.

Iruka bit his lip and refused to acknowledge the pinch of tears that had once again appeared. With a resolve that he didn’t really feel, he locked the window tight with his wards, simultaneously slamming the door on another missed opportunity.