Chapter Text
“Iruka, you came!” Kotetsu yelled, jumping up from his place on the edge of the booth and waving a half empty bottle of sake.
“It’s a miracle!” Izumo said in the same tone as he dodged the alcohol his significant other was splashing across the table.
Iruka laughed at the scene, feeling the tension easing from his shoulders even though he’d just stepped into the bar. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Anko would’ve busted down my door and dragged me here if I didn’t show up, and I couldn’t allow that. Naruto doesn’t need anymore terrible ideas, and if he saw Anko kick the door down, he’d probably try to do the same thing the next time he locked himself out.”
“Uh huh, I’m sure it’s completely for Naruto’s sake that you decided to come,” Izumo drawled sarcastically as he reached up to yank Kotetsu back down into his seat.
“Well, not quite,” Iruka admitted as he slid into the booth opposite his two friends. “Work has been hectic lately. My new class is almost worse than the last one.”
“Worse!” Kotetsu yelled, tuning into the conversation. “How?”
“Konohamaru is in your new class isn’t he?” Izumo asked knowingly.
“Yes, and I love him, but the fact that he’s friends with Naruto and he knows me because of Sandaime means that he’s not shy about pestering me for things.” Iruka allowed his head to fall forward into the palms of his hands. “He keeps asking me to teach them how to make shadow clones, which is–”
“Iruka!” Anko’s voice cut through the chatter in the room, catching the chuunin’s attention. The purple-haired kunoichi was threading her way through the crowded bar holding five glasses in her hands. Her trench coat fanned out behind her as she dodged and weaved the other patrons. “I knew you would come!”
“I don’t think you left me with much choice,” Iruka commented drily. He watched as Anko slammed the drinks on the table and started passing them around.
“Nope!” Anko cried proudly, popping the ‘p’. “These two are all yours, now drink up! You’re behind.” Anko thrust the allotted beverages at Iruka before forcibly shoving herself into the booth next to him and tossing back her own drink.
Iruka rolled his eyes but willingly followed her lead, closing his eyes to savor the burn as the alcohol glided down his throat. “Anko, are you splurging?” he gasped. “That didn’t taste like the usual.”
“Of course I’m splurging! This is the first time you’ve gone out with us in months!” A pout graced Anko’s lips as she flailed her arms around emphatically. “If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you’d forgotten us!”
A pang ran through Iruka’s heart as he realized Anko was right. He had been neglecting his friends for months, for years, at that point. Ever since Mizuki… “Anko, I’m sorry–”
“Nope, this is not a night for sad things. This is a night for happy things!” Her tone brooked no argument. She reached her arms across the table, making grabby motions with her hands. Izumo grabbed the bottle of sake that Kotetsu had been slinging around and scooted it across the table into Anko’s reach.
“Now, we need to get you drunk,” Anko decided. “Drunk enough so you can complain for real. I want to know who your least favorite student is.”
Iruka gaped at his friend. “I don’t have a–”
“Yes you do, you just won’t admit it!” Anko shoved a small glass of sake into his hand. “Now, drink!”
The next hour or so turned into a blur. Anko made sure no one’s glasses ever stayed empty for long, especially Iruka’s. And Iruka was having the time of his life. He did end up spilling the beans about his least favorite student, a kid from a civilian family named Harui who seemed to do his best to disrupt every lesson in the rudest, most annoying way possible. Izumo and Kotetsu shared a few hilarious stories from their shared posts at the gate, including one about an old lady who tried to smuggle a tiger into Konoha while they were otherwise occupied. A comfortable warm feeling had settled in Iruka’s stomach, made stronger by the laughter of his friends around the table. A bittersweet smile took over his face as Kotetsu threw his arm around Izumo’s shoulders and nuzzled into his partner like an overly affectionate housecat. Meanwhile, Anko was hollering so loudly next to him that it managed to drown out the rest of the bar, at least until the voice of the one jounin who could rival Anko’s volume broke through the noise.
“My rival!” Gai shouted, nearly causing ripples in Iruka’s glass of sake, “I challenge you to see who can do the longest handstand after drinking an entire bottle!”
Curious, Iruka’s slightly out of focus gaze drifted over to the corner of the bar where the Green Beast’s voice had erupted from. The ninja in vibrant spandex was posing dramatically, index finger pointing at the man he had dubbed his rival. Iruka couldn’t hear Kakashi’s response and he couldn’t read his lips either, but from the wilting of Gai’s shoulders the answer must’ve been in the negative. Iruka watched in an almost trance-like state as Kakashi shrugged and did his infamous eye smile, an expression that Iruka would bet money on was as much of a mask as the literal one that he wore. The man was an enigma and seemed to like it that way. He’d made himself into a puzzle that no one person had all the pieces to, and yet Iruka was slowly growing more and more determined to solve it.
He’d had several interactions with the infamous Copy Ninja throughout his life, including the mission that had made him decide to become a teacher, as well as a few rare encounters where he’d received nuggets of wisdom from him. Lately though, ever since Kakashi had been put in charge of Team 7, the mysterious man had been popping up in Iruka’s life almost constantly. He saw him at the mission desk more often because of the quick turnover of D-ranks, and because of Naruto’s insistence they always ended up in Iruka’s line. He had also started catching glimpses of Kakashi in trees outside the academy; Iruka theorized it was because the naturally talented prodigy was trying to poach ideas on how to actually teach skills to his little trainees. The man had started cropping up at the grocery market, on benches and trees along Iruka’s walk to and from home, and even at Ichiraku’s a few times. And of course Naruto talked about him near constantly, almost as much as he talked about Sasuke. Iruka had heard so much about how Kakashi was always late, Kakashi was a pervert, Kakashi must be ugly because he hid his face, Kakashi had some really cute ninken, Kakashi was actually a super cool ninja. There were also the stories that other ninja told about him where he was called Friend-Killer Kakashi or Cold-Blooded Kakashi. Iruka couldn’t help wondering how many of the stories were true and how many were just made up lies or rumors encouraged by the man himself. The puzzle of Kakashi had so many layers that figuring out what pieces went where was almost impossible.
Iruka’s eyes were still trained directly on Kakashi. He couldn’t look away if he wanted to, too drawn in by the fluidity of the other man’s movements as he deftly dodged Gai’s flailing arms. He lifted his cup to take a sip of sake through his mask, exposing his long, elegant throat. Iruka’s eyelids dipped down to half-mast and his jaw fell a bit slack as Kakashi tilted his head a bit and a beam of light caught in his hair, making it glint silver like the freshly polished edge of a kunai. Another smile curved his eye and he reached up to scratch at the edge of his mask, the toned muscle of his forearm on display in between the dark glove and rolled-up sleeve of his uniform. Kakashi was not just any puzzle, he was an annoyingly good looking puzzle, Iruka amended.
“Who’s a what?” Anko slurred next to Iruka’s ear.
The sudden horrific realization that he had voiced his thoughts out loud slammed into him so hard that it almost sobered him up. Iruka forcibly yanked his gaze away from Kakashi’s pale skin, but it was too late. Anko had already zeroed in on the man who had captivated him and she was now grinning much too widely.
“I knew it!” she crowed. Iruka almost fell out of the booth as he launched himself at Anko, trying to cover her mouth. Across the table, Izumo and Kotetsu interrupted their heavy petting session to stare at them in wonder.
“I knew it,” Anko said again, a bit quieter. “When I saw you staring at him in the mission room that time, I knew you liked him. And now you’re doing it again here; there’s no mistaking it!”
“Anko, be quiet!” Iruka hissed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Wait…” A vague memory of Anko teasingly saying, “I know which bar Gai drags Kakashi to,” flitted through his addled mind. “Did you choose this bar just because he comes here sometimes?” Iruka asked disbelievingly.
Anko’s grey eyes looked up at the ceiling innocently. “Maybe.”
“What are we talking about?” Izumo asked, kicking at Iruka under the table so he would move and let Anko speak freely.
“Iruka’s mad because I’m trying to help him with his crush on Kaka-” her voice cut off as Iruka successfully slapped a hand over her mouth.
“We aren’t talking about anything or anyone!” Iruka shouted forcefully.
“I thought we were talking about Kakashi,” Kotetsu piped up.
Surrendering to his fate, Iruka’s forehead thumped against the table. A comforting hand patted his head above his ponytail.
“Don’t worry, Iruka,” Kotetsu said soothingly. “He’s looking over here now.”
Iruka’s body had never reacted to something that quickly before. The cold sweat that sprang up had to have broken some kind of speed record. Dreading what he would see, Iruka tilted his head just enough for him to peek across the room. Just as Kotetsu had said, Kakashi’s dark eye was focused directly on him.
“Oh, I don’t feel good,” Iruka groaned, turning his face back into the table. His stomach rolled, although he couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the amount he’d had to drink. “Someone put me out of my misery.”
“Are you ready to go home?” Anko asked quietly next to Iruka’s ear. He just nodded, his head barely moving because his sweat had stuck his forehead to the table.
Distantly, he heard Izumo and Kotetsu agreeing and sliding out of the booth. He heard them offer up goodbyes, and he weakly waved in the general direction he thought they might be in. Anko patted his back, her hand gentle on his shoulder. When her fingers threaded into his hair and pulled out the band holding his ponytail, Iruka just sighed as the tension around his temples was released.
“I’ll be back in a second,” she said softly. “Let me go pay the tab.”
Iruka gave a thumbs up. As soon as Anko stepped away, he let his awareness of his surroundings drift out of focus. He could still hear the chatter and noise of the bar, but he couldn’t make out any specific voices or words. His sensory ability was also so muddled by the alcohol he’d consumed that the entire place just felt like a giant muddy mess of chakra signatures. He was so off kilter that he wasn’t even sure he stayed awake the entire time Anko was gone because when she finally came back he felt like he was jerked awake by the sound of her shuffling feet. Iruka mumbled a thanks, knowing that she’d made that much noise on purpose so he would know she was coming. Iruka pushed himself up to a sitting position, head lolling around on his boneless neck. His eyes caught on the person in front of him and he paused. Even with his vision as unfocused as it was, he could tell that the person in front of him was wearing the standard uniform instead of Anko’s eclectic mix of mesh armor, orange skirt, and trenchcoat.
“Ready to go, Iruka-sensei?” a smooth baritone that definitely didn’t belong to Anko asked him.
“Uh,” Iruka responded intelligently. He dragged his gaze up the flak vest and past a covered neck to find a single eye gazing at him below a cloud of silver hair. “Uh,” Iruka said again, although this time it was most likely the same response he would’ve given if he’d been sober.
“Anko was at the bar saying she needed to make sure your other friends got home safe, but she was worried about you getting home, too. I volunteered to take you home since we live in the same direction. It also gets Gai off my back for the time being,” Kakashi explained, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the green-clad man who was lecturing the bartender about being hip.
Iruka just nodded, trying not to let on that the only thing he’d absorbed from that explanation was that Sharingan Kakashi knew where he lived. A tremor ran along Iruka’s back and he decided to pretend it was from worry instead of excitement. He moved to stand up, but as soon as he put weight on his legs the room seemed to shift and he felt himself plummeting forward. Strong hands caught him before he could hit the floor and Iruka found himself suddenly pressed into Kakashi’s side.
“Let’s get you home before you hurt yourself,” Kakashi decided cheerfully.
Iruka couldn’t help frowning at the note of amusement he detected in the other man’s voice. As soon as Kakashi began moving though, all of Iruka’s concentration went into making sure his legs and feet were working. The Copy Nin maneuvered them through the bar fairly easily and before Iruka knew it, cool night air was caressing his face.
Iruka sighed happily. “That’s better.”
“Feeling more awake, sensei?” Kakashi asked as he shifted his grip on Iruka’s arm and pulled it over his shoulders to support more of Iruka’s weight. “It was a bit stuffy in that bar.”
“How do you know where I live?” Iruka asked, focusing way too hard on not slurring his words. The lack of thought directed towards his walking made him stumble more though, so he quickly changed focuses again.
Kakashi’s thin eyebrow arched at the non-sequitur. “Besides the one visit I made while barely conscious, Naruto lives under your care and Sandaime thought it would be prudent for me to know where my students live.”
They chose that moment to walk under a streetlight and Iruka prayed that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Oh, right,” he said. Of course Kakashi knew where he lived because he kept tabs on his students. What had he been thinking?
“How did you think I knew where you lived?” Kakashi asked teasingly. He leaned in closer to Iruka, his eye curled in amusement.
“I, um, there was– I mean, I thought–”
“Maa, you don’t need to answer, sensei,” Kakashi interrupted. “You’re just fun to fluster.”
If Iruka had been paying attention, he would’ve noticed how the famed Copy Nin stiffened at his accidental admission. As it was, Iruka was too busy berating himself to notice. The two continued along the road silently, both ninjas too worried about giving something away to start up a conversation again. Finally, Iruka’s apartment building came into view and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Are you that ready to be rid of me?” Kakashi asked, fake hurt seeming to mask something real underneath.
“N-No, of course not, Kakashi-san!” Iruka denied quickly. “I’m just very tired and sorry that I had to in-incon... uh, bother you so I could get home!”
Kakashi nodded silently as he helped Iruka up the outside stairs. No emotion showed on the jounin’s face, but somehow he seemed a little droopier than before. When they reached Iruka’s door, Kakashi released him so Iruka could press some chakra into the wards. He managed to do it without too much fanfare, and when the door swung open to reveal a dark and silent apartment, he sighed in relief.
“Thank goodness Naruto isn’t awake to see me like this,” Iruka mumbled to himself as he dragged a hand down his face. His fingers grazed over the familiar line of his scar.
Kakashi chuckled behind him. “I don’t know, this version of you is a bit endearing.” His dark eye raked down Iruka’s body as the teacher stepped through the doorframe and tripped on his welcome mat. “Are you good from here, sensei? Don’t need me to help you get to bed?” A tilt of his head had moonlight draping itself over his glowing white hair and good eye, making him look almost ethereal.
Iruka swallowed thickly as he gripped the door jam to keep himself upright. “Ah, no, no, I should be good.”
“Pity.” Kakashi blinked slowly, deliberately, and then stepped back. “But also probably for the best. See you around, Iruka-sensei.” He gave a lazy wave and then vanished, leaving Iruka staring at the railing outside his apartment door.
When Iruka finally made it to his room and collapsed into bed, he vowed to give Anko hell the next time he saw her. Maybe he’d somehow rope her into subbing at the academy and let his class use her as target practice. His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was about gleaming silver hair and a single grey eye that seemed to inexplicably soften whenever it settled on him.