Chapter Text
The last weekend before summer began, Kakashi suggested that they spend it at the Hatake Compound. Iruka hid his surprise at the suggestion, instead agreeing with a smile and helping pack for their short holiday. He wasn’t even sure in what state they would find the ancient home, but he kept his reservations to himself.
It was still early in the morning when they got there, hand-in-hand and with a medium-sized scroll slung over each of their backs. A quick glance around made Iruka realise that Kakashi had kept the place warded and sealed, so it was mostly just a little bit dusty and stuffy. Opening all sliding doors and letting the late-spring air waft through the rooms while they did a little sweeping and dusting largely took care of it.
A little past their usual lunchtime, they were settled in the engawa overlooking the main courtyard, sipping chilled sake and chatting about nothing in particular. The Hatake Compound boasted a smaller house than other clans, but Iruka thought of it as cosy rather than cramped. It felt like a place where one could lean into a lover’s side and cuddle as the overgrown grass swayed with the breeze.
Which was exactly what Iruka did. Kakashi made a pleased little sound at the increased proximity, looping an arm around Iruka’s waist as he bussed Iruka’s cheek, lips wet and cold from the sake.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Iruka said.
“Don’t mention it, sensei.” Kakashi pressed a kiss to Iruka’s temple. “Thanks for coming.”
It was perhaps a bit odd of them to thank each other for something that should’ve been a given after a few months of dating, but Iruka wasn’t about to take anything for granted, and apparently neither was Kakashi. Iruka suspected that this mixture of care and gratitude was what made their relationship not only work but also thrive—it wasn’t just about whatever chemistry existed between them.
They stayed in the engawa for a while, basking in the sunlight, trading soft looks and touches as they conversed until the sake grew too hot for such a warm day. They retreated inside, carrying their sake dishes and the half-full bottle. Once they were done putting everything away, Kakashi tugged at the hem of Iruka’s shirt.
“Iruka,” he said, voice pitched low. “Come with me for a second.”
Iruka followed Kakashi down a corridor and into a room that looked like it might have been an office at some point. There were cabinets and bookcases built into the walls, old wards against prying eyes carved into their surfaces. Iruka ghosted a hand over one of the symbols—it was exquisite in its intricacy, and he couldn’t help wondering if one of Kakashi’s ancestors had engraved it or if they had commissioned a fūinjutsu master to design and apply it. Either way, Iruka was impressed.
“That one’s cool,” Kakashi said, hooking his chin over Iruka’s shoulder. “But I’ve got a cooler one over here.”
Iruka let himself be guided to a tatami mat in a corner of the room. Kakashi knelt down and gestured for Iruka to do the same, then flicked his hands through a series of seals. Once he finished, he pressed both hands to it and, after a quiet hum of chakra settling, moved the mat aside. This exposed a floor panel that Kakashi also unlocked, this time going through a different series of hand signs, and then pulled open to reveal a secret compartment. A scroll sat inside, large enough to fit snugly in a vertical position and tall enough that Iruka suspected it would probably reach his neck when lifted out.
As though reading Iruka’s thoughts, Kakashi said, “Some help? It’s almost as tall as you.”
Between the two of them, they had the scroll out and lying on the floor after a minute of careful maneuvering. It wasn’t just big—it was also very heavy, no doubt in part due to the added weight of all the chakra signatures Iruka could sense bound to the paper.
“What’s this?” he asked, eyes darting over it.
There were no telltale signs, no hints as to what kind of scroll it might be.
“Summons contract,” Kakashi explained, tone hushed, almost reverent. “It’s been in my clan for generations. From time out of mind, beasts and humans alike have been invited by the pack’s alpha to add their chakra signatures to it. Doing so makes you an official part of the pack.”
Kakashi didn’t say ‘part of the family,’ but he didn’t have to.
“Who’s the pack’s alpha now?” Iruka asked, pretending it wasn’t obvious.
Kakashi gave him a small smile. “Me.”
Iruka smiled back. “And if you wanted to add someone to the contract, would you need your ninken’s approval?”
“Not really, but it’s polite to ask,” Kakashi said, then bit his thumb. A drop of blood welled up, and he let it drip onto the blank round surface holding the scroll’s ornate latch closed. It fizzled and a complex seal became visible. “And I already asked. Pakkun says they all like you very much.”
The scroll unfurled, and Kakashi caught it before it went rolling out of the room. There were no recognisable signatures at first glance—only the bloody imprints of paws and thumbs. Iruka scanned the patch of scroll whose contents were on display, trying to guess which mark was Kakashi’s. He found it at the bottom, a small thumbpad that was about as big as an adult’s ring finger. He reached to touch it, then thought better of it and didn’t.
“Tiny,” Iruka said.
“I was young,” Kakashi said. He lifted his thumb toward Iruka. “Want to join the dogpile?”
Iruka laughed. “Yes!” He offered his dominant hand. “Do I just bite my thumb?”
Kakashi took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I can get a kunai.”
“No, it’s fine,” Iruka said. He was no stranger to seals that required blood to work, and one didn’t always have a sharp object at hand to facilitate things. He tickled Kakashi’s chin before retrieving his hand, prompting a small gigglesnort from Konoha’s Rokudaime, and then bit his thumb. Blood broke the surface of tanned skin through the small wound, a perfect red dot awaiting its fate.
Iruka smeared it over his thumbpad with his index finger, then offered his hand to Kakashi again, who held his wrist gently and wordlessly instructed him where to leave his imprint on the scroll. The old parchment was dry and stiff under Iruka’s fingers, and it accepted his offering of blood and chakra greedily.
When Iruka pulled back, he felt a sudden warmth wash over him—all the other signatures in the scroll, life forces past and present, welcoming him home. He hadn’t expected that. He blinked at Kakashi, and Kakashi’s smile was radiant.
“How about meeting the rest of the pack now?” he asked.
“I already know your dogs,” Iruka said, pressing a hand to his chest. His heart felt too full, though he thought he could get used to that. He smiled back. “But I’d like that.”