Chapter Text
Iruka was on his way home, walking slowly in the gathering twilight. It was a nice, quiet end to a long day. People passed and he would receive greetings here and there from the ones he recognized. The longer he worked at the school and Mission Desk the more that number grew. The foot traffic was dwindling, however, as people found their way home or to their respective haunts for the night.
He would have startled at the arm slipping into the crook of his elbow and the figure falling into step with him, if Anko hadn’t broadcast her presence so well, saying, “Heard we almost lost you today.”
Iruka shifted his bag so it wasn’t squished between their hips as they walked, replying lightly, “Oh, no, Ino’s aim has really improved, if she wanted to land a hit with that throwing star, she would have.”
“You’re hilarious,” Anko deadpanned and poked him in the side, “Obviously, I mean pissing off the glorious Cyclops of Fire Country. Bold move, Umino.”
“I’ve couched plenty of Jounin before, Anko,” Iruka glanced at her from the side, smirking, “I’ve couched you before.”
“Yeah, but my reputation is cute and cuddly in comparison to Hatake,” Anko shrugged.
“You know I ignore gossip,” Iruka replied.
“You wouldn’t be friends with me if you didn't,” Anko grinned up at him wolfishly.
“No, I probably still would,” Iruka swerved them around a lamp post and turned down the street to the residential area, “I’d just carry extra barrier seals.”
“You already carry extra barrier seals.”
“ Extra, extra barrier seals.”
Anko snorted but poked him again, “So, what happened that had the Masked Matador looking like someone kicked his nin-kin when he left the Mission Room.”
“Nothing,” Iruka shrugged sincerely, used to Anko worrying over the typical altercations he ran into in the Mission Room. She always offered back-up, but Iruka was both without need and too scared to ask for it, “He was kind of a jerk about it when I told him to rewrite his report but he did it. Then he left it on the couch and bolted before I even had a chance to tell him off for it being late on top of it being a ten year old form.”
“Well, you left an impression,” Anko said, “Kurenai dragged him into the bar and he spent the whole time moping around. Then Gai showed up and even he nearly got his head taken off before Kurenai made them make up.”
“I’m starting to feel bad for the guy,” Iruka glanced back at the store fronts they were leaving behind as though he could catch a glimpse of a sad copy-nin. Then, realization hit and he turned back to Anko, “Wait, were you eavesdropping on him in the bar?”
Anko gave him a look that said she clearly thought he was an idiot, “Yes? Of course?”
Iruka shook his head, saying without conviction, “He’s your superior.”
“Barely,” Anko waved her hand, “And he was too focused on you sassing him to worry about me. Never have a conversation you don’t want overheard in a ninja bar.”
“I suppose,” Iruka muttered, not in the mood to argue the point. Anko wouldn’t listen anyway. “I wasn’t trying to insult him, but he wasn’t going to get paid with a report like that. It’s weird, though, I’ve never even seen a report that old. Or had to explain that we update them.”
“Well, Hatake jumped ahead in a lot of ways. Never technically finished at the Academy,” Anko contemplated, kicking a pebble in their path and watching it skitter away, “Geniuses don’t usually have to sit through A Shinobi’s Guide to Practical Policies and Procedures like the rest of us.”
Iruka hummed. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He knew Kakashi had a very elite status, but it was easy to forget that he was only a few years older than Iruka himself. He would have been thrown into the world of adults at a much younger age.
As Iruka was contemplating that in its entirety and realizing that Kakashi probably had missed out on a lot more than Iruka realized, Anko was clearly on to a different topic.
“Soooo,” she drawled, the intent in her voice clear, “Mizuki - “
“No,” Iruka tried to stop her, but was unsuccessful.
“Oh, come on,” Anko weedled, “He’s cute, he likes you, and he’s already asked you out like three times. You could give it a shot, it wouldn’t kill you.”
Luckily they were nearing Iruka’s building and Anko would probably leave him so she could have her own late night that didn’t involve grading essays about proper weapons care, “I’m not saying you’re wrong, I just . . . I dunno, doesn’t feel right? I just don’t see him that way, I guess.”
“He protests too much,” Anko shook her head and let go of his elbow when they reached the staircase to his building, “Just think about it. I can’t be your friend-date forever. You catch plenty of interest, it’s not a crime to return it a little even if it doesn’t end in wedding bells, that’s all I’m saying.”
Iruka smiled at her, noting the veiled worry in her eyes and how she crossed her arms as if to pretend she didn’t care as much as she did, “I know that, Anko. I’ll . . . think about it.”
“That’s what you say every time,” Anko griped, but smiled approvingly, “Have a nice night Iruka.”
“You too, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Iruka called to her retreating frame in the streetlight.
Anko laughed uproariously at the suggestion.
The next time Kakashi found himself in the Mission Room, he was on time with his report. Mostly.
Late enough to stay on brand, but he’d had people under him for this one, so he didn’t want to be a complete dick and make them go for a month without pay.
When he entered the Mission Room after a particularly uneventful escort mission to the Land of Earth, it wasn’t very busy and much of the staff was either conversing with each other over tea or busying themselves at their desks. There were several desk workers free for Kakashi to choose from.
He got in line behind the Chunin standing at Umino’s desk.
And pointedly ignored the raised eyebrows his choice received, “Thank you, for your hard work,” Umino said to the Chunin after a moment, in a way that sounded rote, and stamped the scroll before stashing it in a basket with several others. The other Chunin gave a little salute and left, Kakashi stepping into his vacated place in front of Umino’s desk.
The teacher/desk worker/overall-pain-in-ass-who-also-happened-to-be-kinda-cute looked up and Kakashi was greeted with another surprised stare followed by Iruka’s subtle glance around the room at all the clearly available desks. When his gaze finally landed back on Kakashi, the Jounin eye-smiled so the other could see, “Good morning.”
“It’s two in the afternoon,” Umino said in confusion, flipping his wrist to glance down at the watch he was wearing. Because of course this guy wore a watch.
“Eh, close enough,” Kakashi muttered, reaching into his flak jacket, fishing for his report, and holding it out once he found it, “Hope this one is to your liking.”
And it had better be, in Kakashi’s opinion. He’d gotten an updated scroll from Gai and filled out every section with more attention to detail than he’d paid anything that wasn’t a new jutsu or Icha Icha novel in a long time. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove to a desk
Chunin but here he was waiting for a silly little stamp like it would validate his new status as . . . well, ‘not-ANBU anymore’ he supposed.
Umino’s head tilted to one side quizzically, a small smile playing across his lips, but he took the scroll and unrolled it with no other comment.
He stared at it for a moment, eyes scanning the page until he seemed to come to a certain part that made him look up at Kakashi. Then back down at the page. And then he bit his bottom lip in a way that made Kakashi’s stomach drop. The couch, just in his line of vision behind Umino, mocked him with it’s lumpy greeness.
“What’s wrong?” Kakashi asked a little more harshly than he meant.
Umino’s eyes cut back up to him, almost apologetically as he replied, “. . . It’s the wrong form.”
“Are you shitting me?” Kakashi said, and several heads turned as he leaned over the Chunin’s desk again, so he half-whispered, “That’s the updated Mission Report form, the same one you gave me last time.”
“It is, you’re right,” Umino replied, putting his hand over the form and lowering his voice cajolingly to match Kakashi’s (interesting, considering this was about when he’d been on the verge of yelling at Kakashi last time, but he’d log that little detail away for later), “ But last time you were on a solo mission. This time you were on a team and also the mission lead, which requires a different set - “
“ Are you shitting me ,” Kakashi hissed again in a whisper that sounded slightly hysterical to his own ears.
“Kinda wish I was,” Umino muttered under his breath but continued in his normal, still quiet tone, “Listen, I know you haven’t done this in a while - “
“That shouldn’t matter, why is it this hard?” Kakashi ranted, which was ignored.
“And a lot’s changed,” Umino shot him a glare that only teachers could perfect, the one that said shut up, I’m trying to help you, “So, I have a booklet that I think can help.” He opened a top drawer to the desk and pulled a small, stapled paperback that read Policies and Procedures: A Guide for Genin. Umino slid it across the desk with a small smile, one hand going to rub across the scar across his nose in a nervous tic, hurrying to say, “I realize you’re not a Genin, of course, but it’s pretty comprehensive - “
“I do not need that,” Kakashi said before he could stop himself, something illogical and probably a little too prideful in him severely insulted that something as simple as paperwork should take this much effort from him. He regretted it as soon as Umino’s face fell into that same mix of disappointment and shuttered ire in the time it took Kakashi to realize he’d fucked up again.
“Nevermind then,” Umino’s voice had gone flat as he slid the little booklet back into the top drawer and shut it too forcefully. He began to rifle through a different drawer, “But I still can’t accept this form, so if you’ll please have a seat . . .” He let his voice trail off and didn’t look at Kakashi again even when he handed him the correct paperwork.
Kakashi sighed and took it, torn between annoyance at the Chunin and the desire to apologize. He knew Umino was just trying to be helpful, but Kakashi wouldn’t be Kakashi if he just made things easy on himself. He knew he should have asked Gai or Kurenai or someone, but he was being stubborn.
The couch welcomed him with open, lumpy cushions and Kakashi spared a thought for every ounce of tedium it must have seen before he sprawled onto it with an alarmingly loud creek from the ancient springs.
There was only one other worker willing to come rescue Iruka from the tension that had fallen over his area in the wake of his latest interaction with Hatake. Unfortunately, Iruka wasn’t sure if he would have preferred he stayed away.
Nevertheless, Mizuki rolled his desk chair over to Iruka's, cup of tea in hand, trying to adopt a casual air, and asked the question, “So, whatcha doin’ this weekend?”
Iruka chose to answer honestly, even if he knew it would only lead to more unwanted attention, “Oh, you know, the usual. Lesson plans, make sure Naruto eats at least one vegetable over the weekend, got a new book on seals I’d like to get into . . . ” He let his voice trail off as, at the mention of Naruto, Kakashi, who was just in Iruka’s peripheral, tilted his head ever so slightly as though he’d taken a sudden interest in their conversation. Normally, that would have caused Iruka a bit of dread, but Kakashi said nothing, just continued to scowl down at the report in his hand, occasionally tapping it with his pen.
“Sounds boring,” Mizuki said, giving no sign that he’d noticed Kakashi listening now, barrelling along as he always did to get to his point, “You should go to dinner with me, at least one of those nights. It’ll liven things up a little.”
Iruka was, bizarrely, grateful that Hatake was the only person in earshot. There was no way he would give a damn about Iruka’s dating life and a hell of a lot less likely to spread it around the village like a gossipy Genin.
“Mizuki,” Iruka said quietly, his tone clear that he was about to turn his colleague down again.
“Oh, come on,” Mizuki all but whined, twisting restlessly in his seat, “ One dinner, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage here.” He laughed humorlessly.
Iruka tried smiling apologetically, trying not to embarrass Mizuki but also getting tired of this repeated conversation, so it felt brittle, “I’m flattered, really, but - “
“There’s that new restaurant Kyoko-sama opened,” Mizuki tried, talking over him.
Iruka felt his blood pressure pick up and had to bite the inside of his lip to not shout. It never failed to rile him when people talked over him like that. And Mizuki knew it.
He was trying to calculate what to say and not lose his temper, when Kakashi spoke up from the couch, “Kyoko opened a restaurant?”
Iruka and Mizuki both looked over to him, Iruka surprised at how interested Hatake sounded so suddenly. Mizuki was the first to stutter, “Uhm, yeah, she did.”
“Huh,” Kakashi actually seemed to be smiling under his mask and it showed in his voice, “Good for her. Hey, I had a question.” The last was aimed solely at Iruka and he was pointing at the form in his lap with his pen.
Surprisingly relieved, Iruka muttered, “Sorry,” to Mizuki who grudgingly wheeled himself away as Iruka moved to help Kakashi, “What’s your question?”
“Oh, I didn’t really have one,” Kakashi replied quietly, with a one-eyed glance at Mizuki and readjusting the scroll in his lap, “You just looked like you needed a save.”
Iruka blinked at the Jonin in shock, “You - ”
“No need to thank me,” Kakashi eye-smiled at him in a way that reminded Iruka of smirking and he was swiftly reminded of why this man was annoying.
He wanted to roll his eyes but the truth was Hatake had saved him - if only temporarily - from Mizuki’s doomed attempt at asking Iruka out. He didn’t have to be so smug about it, though.
Anyway, it didn’t seem Kakashi needed a verbal thanks as in the next moment he gave the form in his lap a little stab with the pen as if putting down a final period and handed it over to Iruka, “Alright, Sensei, check my work.”
Iruka huffed and took it, “I’m not your teacher, Hatake-san.”
“May as well be,” Kakashi mumbled while Iruka checked the form, brushing his thumb down the side as he read the scribbled handwriting. Seriously, if not for years of reading through children’s amateur writings and Jounin’s messy scrawl there’s no way Iruka would have been able to decipher this.
Instead of answering once he’d finished, Iruka reached over to his desk behind them, grabbed the stamp marked ‘approved,’ and pressed it into the form, saying, “Thank you for your hard work, Hatake-san.”
“Finally,” Kakashi sighed and stood to stretch with his arms over his head.
Iruka dropped the finished scroll in the basket to be taken to Records, and returned himself to his desk only to look up once more as Kakashi called on his way to the door, back already to Iruka, “Have a good afternoon, Sensei.” He was waving over his shoulder with a booklet titled Policies and Procedures: A Guide for Genin.
Brow furrowed, Iruka blinked and opened the top drawer of his desk. The copy he’d put there earlier was gone.
Iruka laughed in surprise and started to say, “When did you - “ But Kakashi was already gone. If Iruka grinned a little too broadly for the rest of his shift, no one commented on it. Hatake was still annoying though.
Kakashi once again found himself at the bar, this time without as much convincing. Partly because he knew Kurenai wouldn’t give up until he showed his masked face and partly because he was still trying to prove to Gai that he didn’t hate him.
Asuma was right across from him again, Kurenai next to him and Gai in the seat next to Kakashi. A newer addition was Genma, back from a long mission and doing his level best to catch up on the gossip he’d missed in the time he’d been away.
Apparently, Kakashi getting couched was the funniest thing he’d heard since he got back.
In between snorts of laughter Genma had choked out, “Oh, gods! What I would have done to see it!”
“It really wasn’t that big a deal,” Kakashi pouted from behind his booklet.
Gai had taken an interest, tilting his head to read the title Policies and Procedures: A Guide for Genin (except Kakashi had marked out the word ‘Genin’ with a red marker and replaced it with ‘Geniuses’), “My rival . . . is that the booklet they give children when they graduate the Academy?”
“And he gave you homework!” Genma gasped, red faced from laughter and looking like he might pass out, “Where’s Anko? Does she know?”
Kurenai reached over and flicked his cheek with her red-tipped finger in an effort to get him to behave, “Take a breath already. See?” Kurenai looked to Kakashi, leaving Genma to his asphyxiation, “Iruka-sensei just wants to help.”
Kakashi glanced at her over the booklet and arched an eyebrow, “I prefer to see it as my enemy letting slip vital intel and that I would be remiss not to take advantage of it.”
“Whatever gets you through, buddy,” Asuma raised his glass to Kakashi, smirking.
“My rival has never turned down a challenge!” Gai exclaimed, saluting Kakashi with his glass as well, “And the Academy Sensei is a worthy opponent!”
“Thank you, Gai,” Kakashi eye-smiled at him, and glowered at Asuma, “See? He gets it.”
“Uh-huh,” Asuma was still smirking as he lit a cigarette.
Meanwhile, Genma had spotted a kindred spirit, “Anko! Come’re,” He was waving at the purple haired Kunoichi sitting at the bar like the mad-man he was. She arched an eyebrow at his antics but shrugged and came over anyway, loudly dragging the stool with her.
Genma didn’t have a chance to say anything before Anko smiled a little too wide at the booklet Kakashi held, letting her stool drop with a thud next to Kurenai and climbing onto the seat, “So Iruka took pity on you then?”
Kakashi let the book fall to the side, and corrected, “Let slip vital intel.”
“You are a child,” Kurenai sighed, “And you’re taking this a little personally, we’ve all been couched before. It’s not uncommon.”
Asuma muttered, “Although, it is more often the kids,” and got a half-hearted kick under the table from his girlfriend for his trouble.
“Kurenai doesn’t,” Anko said innocently, taking a sip of her drink, “Least not as often as us heathens.”
“Huh,” Genma seemed to consider something, looking over at Kurenai, “You know, that’s true, I’ve never seen you get couched.”
“Well, I have,” Kurenai said primly, straightening in her seat much to Asuma’s amusement, “Just . . . not in a long time.”
“Teacher’s pet,” Anko stage-whispered to the table in general. Genma snickered.
Kurenai scoffed but otherwise didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she turned to Kakashi, saying, “I do have some suggestions if you’d like to hear them?”
“Yes!” Gai boomed in answer before Kakashi could, “We have much knowledge amongst us you could benefit from, rival!”
And all of a sudden Kakashi was the subject of five sets of eyes. Kurenai and Gai looked a little too eager, but that was to be expected. He didn’t realize Genma would jump on board with, “Yeah, I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but it’s worth a try.”
Anko surprised him again with a shrug, “I do have some pointers on what Iruka prefers to see in a report.”
Kakashi felt a nudge at his forearm that lay on the table and looked up to see Asuma sliding the bowl of peanuts to him like a peace offering, saying sagely, “Couldn’t hurt.”
For reasons beyond his understanding, Kakashi had the sudden urge to bolt from the table. He expected Kurenai and Gai to be enthusiastic about helping and he expected to turn them down, hole himself up in his apartment and work the issue out himself. That’s how he’d always done things and while he wasn’t opposed to depending on people (he hadn’t lived this long entirely on
his own wit) he wasn’t prepared for this many to volunteer, to insist on helping him. And with something so inconsequential. It was overwhelming in the strangest way.
Kakashi cleared his throat, noting he’d been quiet too long, and said with every intention of shooting them down, “I don’t - “
“Before you say no,” Kurenai stopped him, with the careful urgency of someone trying to catch a cornered animal, “Just . . . think about it? We promise we won’t hang over your shoulder or anything.”
Anko laughed into her drink, “Kurenai, you’re literally the only other person here who would want to do that. Besides this one,” she jabbed her thumb at Gai, who grinned and nodded as if she had meant that as a compliment. Then she looked at Kakashi, “The rest of us just want you to stop griping. It’s bringing down the vibe.”
“I’m also invested in whether or not Iruka’s going to eviscerate you,” Genma said to which Asuma laughed way too hard.
And Kakashi wasn’t sure why but Anko and Genma somehow managed to comfort him more than anything else that had been said.
“I guess . . .” Kakashi said unenthusiastically, but it was all Gai needed to jump up on the table and shout in victory.
The rest of the evening was spent with Kurenai trying to get Gai to stop making a damn scene (Kakashi wished her luck), Anko and Genma exchanging their own ‘When I was couched stories,’ and Kakashi trying to ignore them all from behind his booklet. He wasn’t sure but he thought Asuma was the only one who could tell he was smiling.
Upon his third mission report, Kakashi was feeling pretty smug.
He was prepared. He had read the handbook cover to cover, thrice, and triple checked that he wasn’t using the wrong form. He even took up Kurenai’s offer to proofread it. And then took up Gai on his offer to proofread it. The latter being a little less helpful considering Gai felt Kakashi should spice up the “Mission Summary'' portion with a little more “Youthful Storytelling Flare” but he caught a spelling error he and Kurenai both missed so it wasn’t a total waste.
All in all, he was certain this was the one. He was not getting couched today. No, sir.
The Room was busier today, and there wasn’t a single desk without a line, including Umino’s, so Kakashi didn’t raise any suspicion this time when he stepped into his queue. A couple of the desk workers were looking a little frazzled, Kakashi noticed as he scanned the room and he reached for the book hidden in his flak jacket. He wondered what it said about him being in ANBU so long that the mere thought of someone wanting to make small talk with him filled him with such dread he’d started carrying a book in front of his face just to keep people away. But that was an existential crisis for a different day. The busy room was making him twitchy and he needed a buffer. There was a Genin already sitting on the green couch behind Umino and Kakashi wondered briefly if Iruka had sent him there or if it was one of the other desk workers. A curly haired Kunoichi was behind her desk looking ready to come to blows with a tokubetsu Jounin Kakashi vaguely recognized from around the village and yet another Chunin was hurriedly weaving through the room with a stack of scrolls so large it almost obscured his tearful face. Yet, when Kakashi looked over at Umino, the man seemed, not only perfectly calm, but somehow, thriving in the chaos. There was a certain confidence coming off Iruka even as he answered a question from the scroll carrying Chunin and stamped a report for the Shinobi standing in front of his desk with that practiced, “Thank you for your hard work.”
The smile on Umino’s face, the way his brown eyes sparkled, tapped into a certain respect in Kakashi that he hadn’t been expecting. It reflected that little bit of smugness Kakashi had felt himself upon entering the Mission Room.
And Umino did have a nice smile.
Genma walked in at that moment, caught Kakashi’s eye over his book he wasn’t really reading and smiled, throwing a very Gai-esque thumbs-up, before getting into one of the lines that looked slightly shorter. Kakashi wondered pessimistically if Genma had saved his report to be in the Mission Room at the same time as him, but that may have just been his overactive paranoia talking.
It took a few minutes and a disagreement over whose signature should go where (because this entire room was a tedious purgatory that made Kakashi want to crawl out of his skin) but he finally made it to the front of Umino’s line.
When he stepped up, Umino was turned around in his chair taking a scroll from the couched Genin saying lowly, “ . . . just fine, I’ll take it from here. Thank you for your hard work.” Except this time the rote thanks sounded a little more genuine and the young genin beamed cheerfully before hopping off the couch and jogging across the room to join what had to be his Jounin-sensei and the other two thirds of his Genin team.
And Kakashi was surprised by the sudden flash of nostalgia when the Jounin reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair, probably uttering a ‘good job.’ Kakashi watched them leave the room, startled a little when Umino cleared his throat in front of him.
“Hatake-san?” Umino asked expectantly from the desk.
Kakashi shook himself and stepped up, lowering his book and eye-smiling at the Chunin, “Good, ah - “ He made a slight show of looking at the clock across the room, “Morning, it would seem.”
The corner of Umino’s mouth quirked in a wry smile as Kakashi pulled his report from his vest and handed it over, a little trepidation squirming in his stomach. Umino unrolled it, read for a few minutes and trepidation turned to triumph as he reached for the stamp to approve it.
“Excellent job,” Umino said with sincerity, smiling up at Kakashi brightly after stamping the form, “Thank you for your hard work, Hatake-san.”
“Great,” Kakashi watched Umino toss the scroll into the wheeled basket that would most likely take it deeper into the bowels of hell. “Good, then.”
“Yeah, third time’s the charm,” Umino said cheerfully, a little laugh escaping him. Kakashi found he didn’t mind the miniscule joke at his expense like he thought he would, merely smiling back.
A beat passed.
“Uhm,” Umino shifted awkwardly in his desk chair and Kakashi realized he was just standing there like an idiot, “Was there anything else you needed, Hatake-san?”
“Ah, no,” Kakashi said quickly, laughing a little and tapping his book on his leg, “No. Just never got this far this quickly before.” Why was he still talking? And why did his little victory suddenly feel somehow . . . anticlimactic?
“Well,” Umino said slowly, brown eyes shifting past Kakashi and to the person standing impatiently behind him in line, “Now you have more time to go and . . . do whatever it is you do when you’re in the village.”
Kakashi knew a dismissal when he heard one and knew he was holding up the line . . . but for reason’s Kakashi couldn’t fathom, it still annoyed him that Umino was trying to politely shoo him away.
Once more shaking himself for being ridiculous, Kakashi cleared his throat and muttered, “Have a good one, Sensei.”
“You, too,” Umino called after him, attention already elsewhere in the busy room.
He noticed Genma’s stare and met it with a falsely cheerful wave as he left, hoping the confusion he felt didn’t show too badly.
“. . . I’m confused,” Tenzou said after a long pause.
Kakashi had had to use nearly every stealth tactic he knew to avoid Kurenai, Asuma, or, most challengingly, Gai, on his way out of the Hokage tower to make it to Tenzou’s apartment. He may have woken his kohai up from a deep sleep to start ranting about his dilemma, but Tenzou was more or less used to that sort of thing from Kakashi.
“Well, that’s not helpful. So am I,” Kakashi shot back from where he lounged in one of Tenzou’s kitchen chairs, slowly prying a kunai out of the windowsill that he had narrowly dodged on his way through said window.
“To get this straight,” Tenzou ignored him sleepily, stifling a yawn, “You were mad that you couldn’t get your paperwork turned in without getting couched. So, you fixed the problem, turned in the correct form, but now you’re mad that you . . . didn’t get couched? Do I have that right?”
“And that Umino Chunin being extremely annoying about the whole thing, yeah,” Kakashi didn’t think anything about his story was overly complicated but Tenzou was staring at him clearly baffled. Although, that could be the sleep deprivation. Kakashi was starting to feel a little bit guilty about that. Just not guilty enough to not want his help.
“Was . . . there anything else?” Tenzou asked, a little more exasperated.
“No, that’s pretty much it,” Kakashi replied impatiently, wiggling the kunai more vigorously. It was stubborn.
“Uh-huh,” Tenzou nodded, “When was the last time you had a psych eval?”
Kakashi groaned dramatically and sank farther into the chair, “ Tenzou.”
“I can’t help you if you’re not making any sense, Senpai,” Tenzou said simply, a little laugh in his voice.
“Maybe it’s something in the air,” Kakashi mused, half-serious, “Do you think Umino put something in the vents of the building to keep people wanting to actually come back there to turn in their reports on time? Is that a thing?”
“I think you’ve been reading too many novels,” Tenzou replied, his head tilting to the side as he watched Kakashi half-heartedly wrestle with the kunai, “And you keep bringing up Umino-san.”
“Well, he started all this,” Kakashi grouched, thinking it was rather beside the point. He gave the kunai a hard tug but it didn’t budge.
“It sounds like he was literally just doing his job,” Tenzou shook his head, laughing, “Which is something I thought you’d appreciate, by the way. It’s not his fault you suck at paperwork.”
Kakashi sighed and let go of the kunai for the moment, irritation at the Chunin renewed, “He doesn’t have to be so . . . infuriating about it! What does it matter if you left out a section or forgot to sign it? Then he acts all offended I didn’t want his children’s guide book - “
“Trying to help you,” Tenzou corrected.
“ - And then that little snark today,” Kakashi ignored him, well on his way to a rant, “‘ Go do whatever it is you do.’ What is that supposed to mean? I do a lot of things! Maybe those things aren’t as important to Umino as sitting behind a desk clutching his precious paperwork, but I . . . I have hobbies! I can’t think of any right now, but . . . what?” Kakashi trailed to a stop because Tenzou was now looking at him like he was finally putting together the last pieces of a puzzle, the tiniest smirk playing across his face.
“So . . . you were annoyed because of Umino?” Tenzou asked carefully, as if Kakashi were a feral cat and the wrong move might startle him away.
“Yes, Tenzou, please keep up,” Kakashi replied impatiently.
“I think I’m doing alright, Senpai. Listen, I have an idea,” Tenzou sat up a little more fully on his futon and Kakashi perked up.
“We stake out the Hokage Tower and see what substance Umino is putting in the vents?” Kakashi asked eagerly.
Tenzou gave him a look that never failed to make Kakashi feel like the younger of the two, “ No. You’re going to screw up your next report.”
That gave Kakashi pause, “What?”
“You’re going to get couched again,” Tenzou went on, holding his hands up in a hear me out gesture, “And I want you to just . . . see which annoys you more.”
Kakashi stared at him for a moment, wondering briefly which of them really needed the psych eval, “That makes no sense.”
“Then it’s on brand with the rest of this conversation,” Tenzou sighed, his own irritation finally showing through as he scrubbed a hand through his hair and down his face, “Look, just try it , okay? We’ll be scientific about this and you can report your findings afterward.”
Skeptically, Kakashi returned to wiggling the kunai out of the windowsill just to give his hands something to do while he thought that over, muttering under his breath, “Seems kind of flawed.”
“What can I say? You caught me at a bad time,” Tenzou spread his hands indicating his rumpled bed, “What have you got to lose, anyway?”
“Another hour of my day,” Kakashi replied, giving the kunai another hard tug, “My hearing after Umino chews me out - ,” the kunai finally came free with the sound of splintering wood, “- my sanity if I have to sit in that place longer than I have to.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want any sanity to be lost,” Tenzou muttered, finally seeming over this entire debacle and flopping back down onto his pillows, “That would be tragic.”
Kakashi huffed at him, but conceded, “I’ll try it, but don’t be surprised if Konoha is down an Academy teacher afterwards.”
“By the tales you’ve told, I’d be less surprised if Konoha were down a Copy-nin,” Tenzou replied tiredly, “Now get out of my house, or I’m not missing again.”
“You didn’t miss, I dodged,” Kakashi said in parting, standing to leave his kohai to sleep.
“You keep telling yourself that, Senpai,” Tenzou muttered half-asleep as Kakashi slipped out the window, locking and warding it on his way. He could hear Kakashi’s laugh through the glass.
While still alarming, the muffled screech that came from Iruka’s window was a welcome relief. He had been grading a stack of essays that were just as tedious to read as he was sure they had been for his students to write. He’d have to formulate a much more hands-on lesson to go over weapons maintenance in the future, because there was no way this would stick with his students, no matter what Principal Kamiya-sensei said.
The screech was followed by the window supposedly bursting into flames only on the outside and Anko’s shouts of, “It’s me! Turn it off! TURN. IT. OFF!”
With a snort of laughter Iruka hurried to the window and made the hand seals to release the genjutsu, then unlocked and leaned out of the window. Anko clung to the fire escape railing like a startled cat, glaring at him, “Rude.”
“You should try the front door, next time,” Iruka chuckled and backed away to let her in.
She clambered in with ill-grace still glaring, “Or you could just add my signature to the wards so I can break into your house like a proper friend.”
Iruka rolled his eyes and smiled, “Buy me lunch tomorrow and we’ll talk.”
Anko punched his arm, crossed the room, vaulted over the back of the couch and flopped down, nearly toppling the stack of essays laid on the arm, “Genma will probably be here in a minute, get him to buy you food.”
Iruka rubbed his now sore arm, opened his mouth to answer, but got interrupted by a cheery knock on the front door. It was, in fact, Genma, who walked in with no more dramatics than strictly necessary.
“How come he doesn’t get jutsued?” Anko asked grumpily, throwing an arm at Genma.
“He used the front door,” Iruka replied simply, watching his essays teeter precariously on the arm of the couch.
“Oh, did you try the window?” Genma asked with a sympathetic smile, “Did that a few weeks ago and got ejected right into the dumpster out back.”
“Iruka, who hurt you?” Anko asked as Iruka picked up a few papers that had fallen to the floor and moved the stack to a safer place, “I’ll kill them, you just have to ask.”
“I’m just making sure my seals work,” Iruka said, pushing Anko’s feet off his couch and sitting down where they were. She flung them back up and rested them in his lap.
“By using your friends as test dummies?” Anko asked.
“Only the ones who refuse to use the door,” Iruka grinned at her. She pouted.
Genma wandered into the kitchen to grab a few drinks Iruka kept in the fridge just for them. Anko always made fun of him for keeping track of his friends favorite beverages until she let slip she was partial to mango juice and he started keeping it on hand. When Genma came back he asked casually, “So what did you do to Kakashi? He looks like he has more of a stick up his ass than normal.”
“He started it,” Iruka replied, “And I was trying to help, but apparently I offended him. More so than the first time somehow. Or the second time. He turned in a good report today though, so I don’t know what his problem could be.”
“I think you just caught his attention,” Anko contemplated, “And it really annoys him when he has to step out of his own head now and then.”
“Who gave you a psych degree?” Genma muttered.
“I hang out with Ibiki sometimes,” Anko shrugged awkwardly from her horizontal position on the couch, smiling at Iruka’s disturbed look, “It keeps things interesting.”
“Sounds traumatizing,” Genma shuddered, but continued with, “But I have a counter theory, if you’re interested.” He held out a mango juice with a raised brow.
“Do tell,” Anko finally took her feet off Iruka and sat up to take her drink. Iruka settled in for another one of his friends’ banter sessions.
“Hatake has a crush on Iruka,” Genma said simply, settling down at the kotatsu with his drink.
Anko choked.
“You think everything’s about sex Genma,” Iruka sighed, giving Anko a solid pat on the back while she coughed.
“I didn’t say anything about sex,” Genma protested, “Although, I do believe a lot more problems could be solved with it. That’s a conversation for a different day. Anyway, I said he has a crush .”
Anko managed to wheeze out, “Please . . . stop saying that . . . I can’t . . .” Her coughing was slowly turning to chortles, “Hatake Kakashi . . . with a schoolboy crush . . .” She was fully laughing now.
Iruka just shook his head at the both of them, “He’s an elite Jounin who hates paperwork and is annoyed that I make him do it. If that’s the criteria needed to conclude someone has a crush on me, then half of the village Shinobi must be madly in love with me. Hell, you two should be showering me with flowers right now, instead of breaking into my house and eating my food.”
“First of all,” Genma pointed his bottle at Iruka with a suggestively raised brow, “There are plenty of people in this village who would cheerfully shower you with flowers or whatever the hell else you’d like, but you won’t give any of them the time of day.”
Anko snorted as Iruka blushed and pursed his lips at the unexpected suggestion, “It’s true, Iruka.”
Iruka opened his mouth to protest but Genma spoke up again, “Second, I saw him sulking out of the Mission Room today after you shooed him out.”
Iruka blinked in confusion, “He turned in a good report, he shouldn’t have been sulking. And I didn’t shoo him, the room was busy, his business was finished, what did he think was going to happen?”
But Anko was looking thoughtful, saying, “Shocking as it is, you could be onto something here, Genma.”
“Right?” Genma ignored the slight and latched onto Anko’s agreement, “You said yourself, our Iruka caught his attention!”
“Because I sit at the desk closest to the door,” Iruka objected, “He was hoping to make a quick escape.”
“The first time,” Anko pointed out, “But after that, he sought you out.”
“That’s - “ Iruka started, but Genma was a dog with a bone.
“There are plenty of Chunin in there that would have gone easier on him,” Genma was grinning wickedly now, “Elite Jounin who hates to do paperwork is pretty intimidating to lesser desk workers, Ruru.”
Iruka frowned and wrinkled his nose at the nickname, “Gross, don’t call me that,” then he tried to change the subject by turning to Anko, “I thought you were trying to set me up with Mizuki?”
“You’re interested in Mizuki?” Genma questioned skeptically.
“No, but -” Iruka started.
“He’s just the only one who can ignore Ruru’s death glare long enough to ask him out,” Anko supplied ignoring Iruka’s frown, “Hatake might be made of tough enough stuff though.” Genma was nodding agreeably.
Iruka could sense the conversation devolving into a place he didn’t want it to go and switched to a guaranteed tactic to get his friends off it.
“Alright, I’ve had enough,” he said in his best teacher voice, standing and pointing for the door, “Get out of my house.”
That resulted in both of his friends coming together in a chorus of Oh, don't be like that and other pleas to stay until Iruka expectantly relented and made them promise not to talk about his dating life anymore that night. They settled into a different conversation after that and Iruka relaxed.
It was a ridiculous notion, anyway. Genma and Anko liked to joke, but Iruka knew he wasn’t the type of person people sought after. He was boring and preferred to be in the village more than most. Mizuki was the first to show interest in years and Iruka already knew they’d get on like oil and water.
And Hatake Kakashi saw him as an irritating desk worker who he had to one up. Iruka wasn’t stupid, he knew why Hatake chose his desk everytime he entered the Mission Room. Iruka had bruised the other man’s pride (over a mission report of all things) and Hatake had to remedy that. And, he had succeeded when he turned in a correct report.
It wasn’t Iruka’s fault if that wasn’t enough for the Jounin.