Chapter Text
Iruka first started to wonder when Naruto showed up for class in a rumpled shirt. It didn’t smell, but was the sort of rumpled that implies it was fished out of the laundry basket. Naruto was only 7 and kids that age like to dress themselves but lack any and all common sense, so he brushed it off.
Iruka started to get suspicious when Naruto showed up for class with a fever and a cough that shook his whole little body. The 8 year old staggered into class, dropped into his seat, laid his head down on the desk, and was out in seconds. Iruka had to shake him awake and send him to the nurse’s office propped up between Kiba and Shikamaru.
The nurse let Naruto sleep in her office until lunch time and then she sent him home with fever tablets and a cough suppressant. She told Iruka not to worry. Kids this age were basically germ factories.
Iruka started asking questions when the week before the annual physicals, he found Naruto eating raw carrots and broccoli. The kid was going to town like he was starving and the vegetables were some sort of delicacy, but his face said he was doing his best not to cry or puke.
“How’s lunch?” Iruka asked.
Naruto stared up at him with a fading black eye and sighed like he was weary of the world at only 9 years old. “Horrible, but I read you’ve got to eat vegetables to grow.”
Iruka snorted. Naruto was a good 2 inches shorter than the other boys in the class and like all kids his age, it was a sore point.
“I don’t think cramming in vegetables before your physical is going to make much of a difference,” Iruka teased. “You really can’t cram for stuff like this.”
Naruto stared down at the half eaten head of broccoli in his hand. “Well, after last year, the nurse already told me she was going to check my shoes for padding, so this was kind of plan B.” He then took another sad bite of the broccoli. “Iruka-sensei, why are vegetables both expensive and disgusting?”
Iruka shrugged. “They’re not that expensive and I think they taste better cooked.”
“They’re more expensive than instant ramen and I guess some of them tast okay if you put them in the ramen, but the flavors don’t always go together.”
Iruka laughed. “You really need to eat something other than ramen.”
“I don’t know how to cook anything else. Except rice, but it always boils over and then I have to clean the stove and if I clean the stove, I don’t have time to do laundry,” Naruto lamented.
Iruka’s face fell and a dozen questions crowded his tongue. “Do you always cook and do the laundry?”
Naruto nodded. “There’s no laundry fairy.” He grinned up at Iruka like he’d said a great joke. “I also vacuum and dust and scrub the bathroom, but not as often as I should. There’s not enough hours in the day, you know?”
Iruka looked like he’d been slapped. “Yeah, I know.” There was a pile of laundry sitting in the corner of his little apartment that needed done. He’d eaten out for the last week, because there wasn’t time to go grocery shopping. The spider in the corner of his windowsill had been there long enough that Iruka had given it a name. But those were adult problems.
Naruto wasn’t grinning anymore. He mirrored Iruka’s frown and tried to figure out what he’d said wrong.
“Hey, Naruto, would you like to learn to cook some more stuff?” Iruka asked.
Naruto’s grin returned.
---
Iruka arrived at Naruto’s apartment (he’d found the address in Naruto’s school records, because the kid was horrible at giving directions) a little after 5 that evening with an armload of groceries.
The hairs on the back of Iruka’s neck prickled as he got close. He could feel Naruto’s chakra, the Fox’s chakra.
Iruka shoved aside his unease and pasted on a smile. Naruto was not the Fox and Iruka refused to treat them as one and the same.
Naruto was watching the street and came jogging down the stairs to help carry everything up to the third floor where he lived.
Iruka surveyed the little loft while Naruto ransacked the bags of groceries. The only decorations on the walls were a small child’s drawings. The bed was made, a bit rumpled and crooked, but an obvious effort had been made. A few well-worn plush were neatly set up on the bed, because of course that would be a kid’s priority. The dirty clothes were mostly contained to a not quite overflowing laundry basket. A couple shirts that Iruka recognized as Naruto’s favorites were laid out on the floor to dry and a bucket of soapy water was sitting by the laundry basket, waiting for the next load.
It wasn’t a bad space, but it confirmed Iruka’s suspicions. There was only one person living here. There’d only been one person living here for a long time.
Iruka closed his eyes. He’d been on his own for a long time, too. After he lost his parents, his Aunt and Uncle gave him a room in their house. They kept him fed and clothed until he made chuunin and he could support himself. They never tried to fill the void his parents’ left, but he was still grateful to them. Naruto didn’t even have that.
“I brought stuff to make a casserole. It’s really easy and I think you’ll ike it because all the vegetables are hidden under a bunch of cheese and potatoes,” Iruka said.
Naruto set down the green pepper he was suspiciously sniffing and nodded.
“First, we start preheating the oven…”
Iruka showed Naruto how to layer the food in a big glass dish.
Naruto kneeled on a barstool to see the countertop and chattered the whole time.
Neither of them noticed anything amiss until the smoke alarm over the stove started to beep.
Iruka turned around to see black smoke billowing out of the oven door.
“Is that supposed to happen?” Naruto asked. “I’ve never used the oven.” He looked up at Iruka curiously, not yet concerned.
For 3 heartbeats, Iruka just stared. DO NOT PANIC! he ordered himself. DO NOT PANIC AND SCARE NARUTO!!!!
“Laundry water,” Iruka stammered at last. His voice was surprisingly level.
Naruto cocked his head to the side and frowned.
“Take the clothes out of the washing bucket and bring me the water,” Iruka repeated. His voice was just a little higher pitched than normal and his hands twitched at his sides, unsure what exactly to do.
Naruto jumped off the stool and did as he was told.
Iruka grabbed the oven mits off the counter, turned off the oven, and, when Naruto reappeared with a bucket of soapy water, Iruka yanked the oven door open and chucked the whole bucket inside.
The mess inside steamed, sputtered, and smelled awful-- like burning plastic and garbage.
Iruka gagged and turned to Naruto. “What was in there?”
Naruto ran a hand through his hair and winced at the smouldering mess. “I don’t know. Junk I don’t use and the garbage can. I keep it there so I don’t have to look at it all the time.”
Iruka refilled the bucket from the sink and dumped it in the oven again. The fire was good and out, but the whole apartment skunk horribly and the kitchen area was covered in a fine layer of soot.
“Let’s go to Ichiraku. I’m buying.”
Naruto whooped and bolted for the door to put on his shoes.
Iruka just stared at the ruined oven and shook his head. This is like the adult version of microwaving the instant noodles without water, only worse. The place would need scrubbed and aired out. Naruto would need a new stove and some place to stay for a few days.
“Before we go, why don’t you throw some clothes in a bag. You should probably not sleep here until I can get this cleaned up,” Iruka told Naruto.
“Can I stay with you, Iruka-sensei?”
“Yup. And we’ll try cooking lessons again tomorrow.”
Naruto laughed and beamed. “I’ve never had a sleepover before. If I knew all it took was a flaming oven, I would have set that thing on fire a long time ago!”
Iruka laughed too then. It was either laugh or cry and he didn’t want to cry in front of Naruto.
A one night sleepover became a week. Bit by bit, Naruto’s things materialized in Iruka’s apartment. Iruka taught Naruto how to make katsudon, casserole, and ramen from scratch that they both agreed wasn’t quite as good as Ichiraku Ramen.
No one questioned the change when Naruto came to school everyday in clean clothes with a balanced lunch. Or when he suddenly was completing his homework and no longer napping during the day.
Iruka still had a pack of dust bunnies under his bed and Kuro-chan was paying rent in dead flies from the windowsill, but the laundry in the corner didn’t pile up anymore. Laundry was Naruto’s favorite chore, especially since Iruka’s apartment building had an electric washer and dryer in the basement.
Iruka did his grading from the kitchen table now. Naruto sat across from him and did his homework after dinner.
At 10, Iruka steered the kid to the little office turned bedroom. The bed was sloppily made, but a handful of well loved plush were carefully arranged by the pillow and Naruto thought it was the best bedroom in the world.
---
Dear Esteemed Hokage-sama,
I am writing to you in regards to Uzumaki Naruto’s living situation. His apartment is currently uninhabitable. There was a small kitchen fire (absolutely not Naruto’s fault), but it was sufficient to fill the small apartment with smoke. I take full responsibility for the situation and have taken Naruto back to my apartment. He will stay there as long as need be. It could easily be a couple months at least. The oven will need replaced and the smoke probably sunk into the drywall, so all of that will need to be ripped out and replaced. I did some research, and with the age of the building, there could be asbestos in the walls, so the demolition isn’t something that can just be done willy-nilly…
Hiruzen set the letter down, it rambled on for another page and a half, and picked up a pen.
Iruka,
If you are comfortable with the arrangement, I agree it’s best that Naruto stay with you indefinitely. Please endeavour to avoid any further incidents. Children are impressionable and have enough of an affinity for fire as it.
-Hiruzen Sarutobi