Chapter Text
Okay, so he had a Chuunin and a small child to watch over and look after.
No big deal.
The day before had been a hectic sort of thing, ending with Uchiha Shisui coming off-duty and following them after hurrying out of his armor and mask. Kakashi had caught his chakra signature as they walked to his apartment, vaguely past where the Uchiha compound was. He had to have been on his way home, he knew, and Shisui was one of the most rules-bound of the ANBU. Honestly, it was a surprise that the kid hadn’t lost his mind and followed them before taking off his mask and armor.
It would have made the agreement harder to come to, the way Iruka had slipped past his defenses and gotten him to quiet down and sit to eat and possibly agree to be a babysitter. Harder, but not impossible. Kakashi was noticing Iruka had a way with people and knew how to move around them.
Umino Iruka should have been an ANBU, really.
Well, Kakashi reflected as he got dressed for the day, slipping a clean mask into place, ruffling his hair so that it at least looked somewhat groomed, perhaps not. He held the ear of the Hokage, had constant scheduled meetings with him for tea and Shogi. Someone like that probably should stay safe in the village.
Besides, that permanence, the constant staying in place? That was part of why this was going to work to take care of Sensei’s kid.
Iruka was always nearby for Naruto if he needed him. Kakashi’s reputation, name, and money would provide protection. His wards and defenses would keep attackers away. Iruka’s presence would keep him safe and happy. It was a good balance. Between the two of them, they could make sure Naruto would be okay.
Today, he didn’t have anything scheduled. His only business was making sure he had everything on hand for the kid and the Chuunin.
His guest futon wasn’t in the greatest of shape, and he was pretty sure Iruka had noticed the difference in rooms when Kakashi had guided them into the master bedroom. Brown eyes had narrowed at him, studying him for something Iruka hadn’t named, and Kakashi had felt nervous under his gaze. While Iruka had insisted on clearing up the dishes from dinner, Kakashi had hurried to tidy up his bedroom and tuck away his various small disasters, as well as move a supply of clothes into the second bedroom so that he wouldn’t have to wake Iruka and Naruto up when he got dressed in the morning.
A couple of clones dispatched to acquire a few things, supplies, and a couple of new futons, Kakashi hurried to pull together a breakfast for the three of them.
He vaguely remembered what clothing shopping for a small child was like.
It had been a long time since his last experience doing so. Or, rather, the last time he had done for a small child that had acted like a small child instead of an ANBU or a Jounin, ignoring all of their emotions and pretending they had nothing other than their missions to focus on. He had still, technically, been small when he had needed to shop for himself.
Iruka would hopefully know how to do that for Naruto, because Kakashi had no idea. He’d never wanted bright colors or patterns or anything resembling the things he knew other children had wanted.
If Naruto were anything like Sensei, he would want those things.
That had been why Kakashi had gotten him blankets with dogs and frogs on them. Colors were supposed to be good for kids. Helped them develop correctly and also helped them be happy. Sensei had also liked those things, so he’d guessed that maybe his son would as well. Honestly, Kakashi already felt a little like he was in over his head, but he knew things would be okay from the moment he’d seen Iruka holding Naruto and reading to him.
The Chuunin had been so careful with him. So calm and kind. Even when Naruto’s nose was snotty, and he rubbed it on Iruka’s sleeve out of habit, Iruka hadn’t flinched and had just helped him, letting it happen with the patience of someone who was used to it.
With the calm of someone who was a natural at taking care of children.
When his clones returned, groceries and futons in hand, Kakashi started on breakfast and airing out the futons on the windowsills. By the time he had a successful meal prepared, Iruka and Naruto had been summoned from their sleep by the smell of it, following the scent, seeming to just wake up. The two of them wore nearly identical expressions, barely awake, and it was something to behold. Naruto’s pajama top was too small, exposing a sliver of a belly that was thinner than someone his age should have been.
He knew enough about small children to know they were supposed to be round. He’d heard mothers of plenty of children talking about chubby cheeks and little round bellies and the like – Naruto did not have such things.
Iruka was a little bit of a distraction from his panic over the state of Sensei’s son.
His hair was down, and his eyes were soft, his borrowed sleep yukata tied messily. Naruto’s hand was curled in the fabric of it as he followed along next to him, a haze of blond hair making him look remarkably like a duckling. The two of them were a sight as Kakashi stepped away from the stove and guided them to the table, careful to keep them from knocking into anything. “Breakfast is ready,” he offered quietly, serving plates for both. “Did you sleep well?”
“Your bed is comfortable,” Iruka muttered. “I am sorry we kicked you out of it.”
Kakashi paused, his hand settling on the coffee pot.
He had noticed.
Tamping down on the flicker of panic, Kakashi poured Iruka some coffee and set it down in front of him. “Thank you,” came the response, a careful hand pushing Naruto’s hair out of his face.
He watched Naruto eat, ignoring the feeling of being a creep as he did. The boy’s cheeks were too thin, a little worrying – not to the point of starvation, but he’d have put good money on him not getting nearly enough food at an orphanage that didn’t even care enough to know Naruto’s name. When blue eyes turned to him, curious, Kakashi grabbed the nearest dish and held it up. “Did you want some more?” he asked, offering gently. “I think I may have made too much for me to eat. And even with Iruka’s help, I do not think the two of us can finish it.”
There was something in Naruto’s eyes for a moment that made him feel violent. A look of distrust, as if Naruto was unsure Kakashi was actually offering him more food. “Yes, please,” he spoke softly, the small lisp of his voice nearly swallowed by the way he sank into himself.
“Here,” Kakashi put more on his plate, stopping only when he saw his eyes go wide. “If you can’t eat that, just let me know. We can store it away for later, too.” He patted Naruto’s shoulder, then turned to his own food. His mask was –
Did his mask matter, really?
The two of them would be living here, and they did not seem the type to go running off to tell people what he looked like. Iruka had helped him steal Naruto away from the orphanage without hesitation, and changed his plans at the last moment to do so. Naruto was a child, and he seemed more likely to be in danger of getting his snot on him than Naruto telling others what he looked like or trying to take photos of him. Slowly, Kakashi pulled his mask down, eating a few bites and keeping a careful eye on Iruka for a reaction.
Iruka took a sip of his coffee, ate some more of his breakfast, and reached out to wipe a mess off Naruto’s face.
Glancing at him, Kakashi adjusted his mental notes.
It might have been on the edge of enough food for a normal child, perhaps, but Naruto was hosting a demon. The amount of chakra inside of him needed more energy to maintain itself, or he would burn out.
He wondered, for a moment, how quickly Naruto would turn from a sleepy and shy little boy into a rambunctious ball of energy as Sensei had been. Especially if they figured out a better meal plan for him. Once everything was better and he was well taken care of, Kakashi had no doubt his heart would ache at the familiar sight Naruto would create. He had known his parents well. He had known both of them. Even with his low energy and him barely being awake, Kakashi could tell where Kushina’s expressions were.
He was a mixture of both of them.
Feeling very underprepared, Kakashi finished his food and took his time with his tea. He watched Naruto’s glass of milk, making sure he drank it, and made certain Iruka’s coffee did not fall off the edge of the table when he fumbled it sleepily.
He could do this.
He could not do this.
Children’s clothing was a hell someone had created to torment him; he was sure of it. Kakashi carried the basket, trailing along behind Iruka as he ushered Naruto through the shop. They needed durable items, things that would last, but he would no doubt be growing soon if they fed him the right amount. He needed to put on weight to be the right size for his age – children were supposed to be chubby – and if they got stuff that fit him perfectly now, he would just grow out of it in a few weeks.
“Hey,” Iruka’s voice was soft, a hand hovering over Kakashi’s wrist. “Take a deep breath for me?”
Stopping in his tracks, Kakashi breathed in through his nose, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly. Iruka nodded, a finger tapping Kakashi’s wrist. “Thank you. You didn’t seem like you were breathing.” He kept his voice quiet, his head tilted towards Kakashi, and it was a relief. Glancing down, Kakashi spotted Naruto, his hands clutching the fabric of Iruka’s pant leg. They had put a small mask on him before leaving for the day, to hide the marks on his face.
People were awful, but they weren’t going to use today as an occasion to take a stand about what treatment he would be getting.
After a moment, still breathing carefully, Kakashi offered his arms to Naruto. The boy scurried into them, clinging to him and holding on tight as he lifted him off the ground. The too-thin child fit easily into his grasp, held against him like a protective ward.
He could do this.
He had help.
He had things and people to focus on.
They resumed shopping. Iruka held up clothing, measuring them against Naruto, before glancing at Kakashi. With a nod of confirmation, each article would get set into the basket. If Naruto made a noise of excitement about something, Iruka would pick it up in a few different sizes. “He’s small now,” Iruka explained quietly. “So he’ll fit toddler sizes for a time. In a few weeks, months at most, he will be into new clothing. If he outgrows his favorites, there will be tears.”
He had thought of that first part. The second? Not so much.
He had chosen well when he had asked Iruka to help him. The Chuunin was well-versed in childcare and keeping, and he knew how to make sure Naruto listened, even when his most stubborn streak showed. His hands were deft and sure, quick enough to snag the back of Naruto’s shirt when he tried to wander off, and he seemed to always be aware of what the boy was doing.
He was going to be a great teacher, Kakashi could tell. He had patience for children, from what he had seen, and he cared for them more than he cared for anyone else.
It settled something wild and howling in his chest.
Sensei’s son would be watched over by someone who would make sure he was happy and safe. Someone who would think of the littlest details.
Umino Iruka was a good man.