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With a bounce in his step, a flutter in his chest and a sliver of smugness to his smirk, Umino Iruka made his way in the morning light towards the Konoha Shinobi Academy. The cherry blossom season was nearing its high peak, the petals of the pale pink flowers twirling in the playful gusts of wind, the swirls of pink circling his sandal-wearing feet and uniform-clad figure as the dark-skinned tokubetsu jounin enjoyed the warm rays of sunlight that teasingly caressed his scarred nose and chin held high. As had the pale, long fingers of one peculiar silver-haired Rokudaime who had been left lounging under the rumpled sheets in Iruka's bedroom when he had bid his drowsy lover a good morning and left his home to greet the new day that dawned upon Konohagakure, with a memory of a passionate kiss tingling on his lips and the bittersweet aroma of coffee mixed with the distinct flavor of the lanky jounin tasting on his tongue.
As per usual, the sight of the Academy's fence banished the surfacing memories of the previous hours from his mind before he could have wandered any further into them. As he passed the gate, he scanned the school yard like he had always done, noting the groups of children playing ninja and other respective professions before the dreaded bell would ring for the first class to begin for the day. To that day, Iruka had never been able to observe the students, both young and older, without a smile tugging at his lips and an ache in his chest that came from knowing all too well that as much as they tried, the teachers of the Academy were never able to tell the future of the children who passed through the doors to their classrooms.
“Hey, hey, hey, Umino-san! Come here, quick!”
Of course the ache could have also meant the very first stage of a heart attack.
The shrill shout of a second grader, the little girl's name escaping him for the time being even though he pinned her living in a red-tiled house on the Third District, made Iruka mentally wince at what he could already guess from the little girl's voice: someone was punching the morning light out of someone else, and they were now calling back-up. Yet before he could have gotten in a word edgewise, small, sticky hands that were far too strong for a child that age, took a hold on his wrist and pulled the surprised headmaster after the small girl, their steps carrying them across the yard towards the echoing shouts and hoots that made Iruka's eyebrow rise higher with every single whoop he heard.
He could count ten of them, all eyes fixed in the center of the ring that the little bodies created. Unsurprisingly enough, he recognized the pair that was in the middle of it all: an Inuzuka girl with disheveled dreadlocks holding in a fairly impressive headlock a Yamanaka boy whose blonde ponytail had seen better times. The Inuzuka's puppy, a bright little thing with sharper fangs than it let on, yipped at the side of the brawling pair, and admittedly, Iruka was tempted to just stop and observe the fight closer, if only to see how the red-faced boy was attempting to escape from the impressively designed hold the girl had on him. Sometimes he wondered if instead of calling them troublemakers, they should really consider creating an advanced class for those who had a natural calling to not only cause property damage but to surprise everyone with the moves they pulled. The case of Uzumaki Naruto was convincing enough to have Iruka put that thought aside for later perusal. Now, however, it was all about preventing the two little twits from spilling any blood before the weapons training classes started. “HOLD IT YOU TWO!”
Despite the little voice in the back of his head wondering if it really did the children any good to be scared out of their wits this early in the morning, Iruka enjoyed the startled silence that fell around the courtyard, the echo of his rough bark still lingering between the stunned children and their disapprovingly staring headmaster. A slender, dark eyebrow rose inquiringly on the tan forehead at the sight of thirteen children, out of which ten were standing, two were sprawled on the ground and one was still squeezing his wrist with trembling little fingers. Gently but firmly, Iruka peeled the small digits from digging bloody nail marks on his skin, all the while keeping his darkening gaze on the tiny faces staring back at him. With all the naturally given authority he could pull from, the words that left his mouth were calm and measured: “Those who had not been involved in this fight will take their belongings and line up by the front doors to wait for the bell ring. Now.” The flurry of hasty feet and hands wasn't enough to make him miss his grab on the two little miscreants who really should have known better by now than try using the dispersing crowd as the means to escape their headmaster's sharp eyes and quick hands. “As for you two, I'll hear more about your morning in my office.” At least the young Inuzuka hound had sense to follow his lead without calling.
The stroll to his office had been a quiet affair, both of the misbehaving fourth graders knowing from earlier times that there was no sense in trying to make a scene when it came to Umino-san, as it would only serve to make the day even more miserable for them. The pair grudgingly followed the dark-haired headmaster to the office, the soft click of the closing door sounding like a bell of doom to the clan children who sat down on the small couch next to the wall by Umino-san's desk, the choreography of the situation familiar to both of them. At least, until they realized that the cue for Umino-san to start scolding them had long passed. In silence, the children fidgeted and watched as the tokubetsu jounin set down the leather satchel he had been carrying, took off his forehead protector and gave a rub to his temple before walking to the small kitchen corner next to the door, where a coffee maker and a water boiler were standing on the counter with a small heat plate next to them, with a small refridgerator underneath the counter. The tan hands opened and closed the wall cupboards in their search for two glasses, one cup, a plate and crackers, the rather domestic sight of the head instructor making the students exchange a bewildered look between them before they both peered more closely at what Umino-san was doing.
“It's rude to stare, you know,” Umino-san said, his warm baritone laced with receding annoyance that made the students turn their eyes to look at anywhere else than the man's back. Water started to boil in the background, the ring of the school bell carried through the window, and the girl and the boy, both known for having five legs and eight hands when let loose, were fighting a losing battle against stealing wary glances at the quiet adult who was strangely more interested in brewing himself a cup than yelling their ears off like usual. To her awkward notice, the Inuzuka girl saw her puppy happily prancing around Umino-san's legs and occasionally bumping into his shins, the little ball of fur engaged in a game of peculiar tag with the headmaster's feet. If the rumble of a chuckle that came from the grown-up at the little dog's antics made the both kids stiffen in shock from hearing such a warm and comforting sound leave the big thorn on their little sides, their peers would never hear about it. In fact, so focused they were on trying to figure out the thoughts of their headmaster that the clink of a small tray that was placed on a small table next to the couch made the Inuzuka and Yamanaka jump like startled rabbits. The sight of two glasses filled with juice, a plate of crackers and a steaming cup of strongly smelling tea held their focus for a whole minute before they risked a look at the amused face of Umino-san, the dark eyes of the man dancing with a joke that made both students feel like a punchline to it. “Don't know if you two like apple juice, but that's all I have to offer beside the tap water, considering that you may not like coffee or tea yet.”
It was only understandable that it took the pair a moment to decide that their headmaster hadn't gone off to the deep end and wasn't going to poison them, them both missing the sliver of pride passing in the man's dark eyes as he spied the children fail to be discreet when applying the newly learned poison detection jutsu on the juice and the biscuits. It seemed that the new curriculum for the fourth graders was paying off.
After giving the little dog a bowl of water, Iruka pulled out a chair from behind his desk and then sat down the opposite side from the two little nins in training. He then took a cup in his hand, had a sip of the tea that had been the courtesy of a certain Hokage, and finally fixed the duo with a stern look. “Now then. Mind telling me what it was all about?”
The further the children went on with the accusations thrown back and forth between them, the volume of their voices picking up on each turn, Iruka leaned back in his chair, drank his tea and mused that perhaps he should not let the joy of having a very capable lover at home to affect the way he dealt with the little hellions at work.
He woke up to a gentle puff of air blown against his chin, the dark eyes snapping open and peering up to an unmasked face of a man who Iruka had last seen wearing less clothes and a flush on his pale cheeks.
“Yo.”
Despite the abrupt awakening making the slightly subsided headache remind him of its presence, Iruka felt his mouth twist to a smile matching the one on the thin lips of the other man who had appeared sitting next to his lounging figure on the office's couch. “Yo yourself,” he said, and then cleared his throat, the roughness of his voice belying the length of his nap. “I suppose I didn't come to our lunch meeting, seeing that you're here with take away,” he noted once a familiar logo of Ichiraku on a couple of food boxes placed on the nearby table caught his eye.
The understanding hum that left the other man sent minute trembles down his spine when the other's pale fingers gently traced his cheek. “Maa, I figured you had been caught up with something,” the silver-haired man chuckled quietly, his warm smile turning into a teasing grin. “Although I didn't expect to find the prim and proper Umino-san cat-napping during office hours. What must your staff say.”
“They won't say a thing of me napping,” Iruka defended, not minding that his voice sounded like a purr of delight when the pale fingers found a good spot to rub behind his ear. The headmaster tilted his head to the side to give more room for those wonderful fingers, letting himself relax against the couch. “They will, however, pester me for the rest of the week if they saw you smuggle ramen into my office on the day when our cafeteria served vegetarian lentil soup.” The dark eyes looked at the steel-gray ones, a moment of amiable silence passing between the two shinobis before Iruka once more looked at the food containers. “Is that Teuchi's special I'm smelling?”
“Of course I pick a man who's more interested in the food I offer rather than the mood I try to create,” Kakashi chuckled, his rumbling laughter increasing at the unrepentant look on the other man's face. Before the Konoha's new Hokage could pull away from looming over his dark-haired lover, however, tan hands took a good hold onto his uniform and pulled him down to peer into a pair of impishly glinting dark brown eyes.
“I'll take that as a permission to kiss you, Hatake-sama,” Iruka murmured, briefly wondering the warmth that made a nest from those words inside his ribcage, before he closed the distance between their lips.
After a while, more precisely at the moment when a growl of a hungry stomach interrupted his plans to map out Kakashi's mouth with his tongue, Iruka reluctantly pushed at the silver-haired man's shoulders to get some space between them, his traitorous lips chasing after his lover's taste before his tongue started the talking. “As tempting as the idea of making out with you all day is,” and based on the events of that morning it truly was, “let's not give others any more ammo against me for the next faculty meeting.”
“Maa, I believe that you intentionally skipped our lunch date in order to lure me into your office,” Kakashi mused, a note of amusement ringing high and clear in his voice while he eased himself to sit straighter on the couch and gave some room for Iruka to arrange himself seated next to the older shinobi. As he observed the man who took one of the food boxes and then neatly snapped his chopsticks ready, Kakashi admitted that the flush that was barely visible on the dark-skinned man's high cheekbones was a view that the leader of Konoha doubted he could ever get bored of.
“I believe you deliberately fail to remember all the previous times I had come to your office with Teuchi's cooking as my only weapon to save you from disappearing underneath the paperwork.” The dry humor was palpable in Iruka's voice, even though the headmaster seemed deceivingly more interested about devouring his slightly cooled lunch rather than engaging in aimless chit-chat with his superior commander who sat and slurped down his own noodles right next to the dark-haired nin.
The look they exchanged over the steaming ramen could have been described fond and packed with thoughts that they were still too shy to put into words. The shared gaze held for a silent minute, both the jounin and the tokubetsu feeling acutely aware of their shoulders touching while they sat on the small couch in Iruka's quiet office – until the pair of thin lips were pursed on the pale face and the jounin sent an airy kiss to the other male over the take away boxes.
The resulting laughter was bright and warm enough to rival the sunlight that filtered through the window.