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Umino Iruka has always been unlucky in love.
Not because he has a Red String of Fate, leading off to whoever-the-fuck knows, he’s never really cared enough to find out. He’s not one of those sappy romantic types who swear off all other partners to embark on a journey to find their destined love or whatever. There are plenty of people who have never found their Soulmate and have managed to find lasting, loving relationships with other people, so that isn’t the issue here.
It’s because his String is an asshole.
When he tells people, they laugh. When they see that he’s being serious, they laugh harder. “It’s just a String,” they scoff, looking at him askance. “It leads to your Soulmate, that’s it. It can’t DO anything.”
They haven’t seen the way it seems to have a mind of its own, worming across the floor like a slippery snake to trip unwary feet or tangle around a limb at the most inopportune times.
Like when Iruka was going in for a goodnight kiss after a promising first date, tripped on the String, and promptly broke his date’s nose with a vicious headbutt. He wasn’t surprised when they didn’t go for a second one.
Or the time when a different date leaned over to touch Iruka’s knee and the String had somehow gotten wrapped around the leg of the man’s stool, jerking it out from under him and cracking his chin on the bar top. He lost two teeth, as well as any desire to see Iruka again.
Or when the String snaked over the dining table to tip an entire bowl of very expensive ramen into the lap of his new paramour, not only ruining his pants, but severely burning his groin as well. Iruka ended up having to pay for the food, dry-cleaning and medical bills. He found it highly ironic that he could only afford cup ramen for the rest of the month.
So, yeah, the String has cock-blocked him on more than one occasion.
Like he said, asshole.
He’s even tried to cut it.
It was late at night, after a clumsy attempt at a one-night stand with a stranger from the bar. During the frantic fumbling in the dark, the String had snuck its way between them and managed to twist around the other man’s unmentionables, tightening like a vice until it nearly castrated him. Needless to say, the half-naked man ran howling out the door, and Iruka, equal parts horny, frustrated, and furious, howled even louder and snatched up a pair of scissors to snip that damn String to pieces. But no matter how much he snipped and sawed at it, the String stayed whole. After trying again with his entire knife collection (which was rather impressive), attacking it with his own teeth, and actually contemplating setting it on fire, he finally just gave up, jerked off, and went to bed.
The Red String isn’t all bad. The kids at school love it, playing Cat’s Cradle and jump-rope with it during recess. They ask him questions about it incessantly, like when did it first appear, how long is it, and what kind of person he thinks it leads to. The answers are “fifteen”, “I don’t know”, and “I don’t care”.
Although, that’s not entirely true. He does care, at least enough to occasionally feel the murderous urge to track down whoever is on the other end of his String just so he can kick him in the dick. The String’s behavior has to at least partially be his Soulmate’s fault, right? He has to be causing it, somehow, whether unconsciously or with full intent to fuck Iruka over.
Either way, Iruka’s given up on love.
Which is why he’s stuck doing the graveyard shift at the Mission Office, filing paperwork like a loser instead of out at a bar looking to get laid (it’s called the ‘graveyard shift’ not because of the late hour, but more the high probability of an ANBU showing up with a dead body in tow). He’s just gotten up to grab another cup of coffee when someone shuffles in, looking almost like a corpse themselves.
Hatake Kakashi, Iruka notes with a flutter of dread, taking in the man’s slumped shoulders and the impressive bags beneath his visible eye. He’s never talked to the man in person, but he’s heard the horror stories. If he doesn’t already have a dead body in tow, Iruka better make this quick, before he becomes one.
“I’ll take that,” he says, politely stepping forward, hand out to take the crumpled mission report sticking out of Kakashi’s pocket.
And then promptly stumbles over his String, which has twisted around his ankle, because, you know, asshole. Iruka slams into the other man, and they both go down, collapsing in a pile on the floor (he counts himself lucky Kakashi doesn’t instantly snap his neck on contact, seemingly too exhausted from his mission to react with more than a surprised grunt).
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry-” Iruka blurts out, desperately trying to scramble off the man before his killer instinct wakes up, mistakes Iruka’s flailing for an attack, and stabs him in the eye or something. But he can’t, because his String is now wrapped around his both his ankles, hobbling him like a damn horse, and he just flops back down into the man’s lap with a yelp. “Shit, godammit-” Iruka tries again, falls again. And again. Every time he tries to get up, the String somehow snags and trips him up, and he tumbles back down onto Kakashi, the two getting more and more tangled with each attempt. Soon they look like a pair of precocious kittens being swallowed by a ball of yarn. It would be hilarious if Iruka wasn’t so fucking pissed off. “Why is- what the FUCK is happening here-”
“I don’t know, and honestly, I’m not sure if I want it to stop,” Kakashi deadpans, just laying there and blinking owlishly. The tips of his ears are pink.
“Shut up and help me!” Iruka hisses down at him, then remembers his body count and adds, “Please.”
“Okay, okay,” Kakashi relents with a tired sigh. The two carefully sit up and begin the slow, pain-staking process of trying to untangle themselves from the mess of Red String engulfing them. The resulting awkward fumbling is almost more humiliating than Iruka’s botched attempt at a one-night stand.
“Excuse me, you’re on my-”
“Oh, sorry. Here, maybe if I-”
“No, that’s not-”
“Just let me-”
“Don’t move- ow!”
“Sorry. Lemme just-”
“Wait, hold on- I said WAIT-”
“You’re touching my-”
“I said sorry-”
“Oh, for the love of- this is fucking ridiculous!” Iruka finally bursts out, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “GOD! You’re such a fucking asshole! I HATE you SO much!!”
“…But you’ve only just met me,” Kakashi says in a small voice. “It’s only been, like, five minutes, tops.” He cocks an eyebrow. “…That’s gotta be a new record.”
“Not you. YOU!” Iruka glares furiously at the Red String tied around his pinky finger. It dangles there, mockingly. “You always do this shit to me! Tripping and tangling me up! Knocking shit over when I least expect it! Making my life fucking miserable! Especially when I’m trying to date, or at least get laid! Why the fuck can’t you just let me BE?!”
“I know what you mean,” Kakashi sighs.
“Seriously, you can never just leave me- wait, what? Really?” Iruka halts mid-rant, gaping at Kakashi in surprise. “You…your String messes with you, too? It’s…not just me?”
“Nah.” Kakashi shakes his head, scowling down at the Red String winking from his own pinky. “My String’s the biggest cuck I know. And I know Genma.” Iruka winces in sympathy. “I tried to kiss someone a few months back and they nearly got strangled. Like, up in the air, legs kicking and everything. Now everyone thinks I’m a pervert who’s into kinky stuff.”
“…And this has nothing to do with you reading porn in public?”
“Oh no of course not.”
Iruka snorts in disbelief before wondering aloud, “Why is this even happening? Who is doing this to us?”
“Must be our Soulmates,” Kakashi says with a shrug. Iruka frowns.
“You…really think so?”
“Who else could it be?” He gives his String an annoyed yank. “It’s just a String, right? It’s not alive. Doesn’t have a soul itself, just leads to our Soulmates. So it’s gotta be them fucking with us. Trying to keep us from falling in love with anyone else. Possessive cucks.”
“…I knew it. I knew it! God, what a prick!” Iruka marinates in his fury for a good ten seconds before deciding, stick a fork in him, he’s done. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this bullshit. I’m gonna find my Soulmate and kick him right in the dick.”
“Cool, I’ll deck mine in the eye.”
“I mean it!” Iruka seizes his String, eyes following along the red trail like a hunter stalking its prey. “No more hiding. No more games. I’m tracking this bitch down once and for all.”
“Have fun.” Kakashi just flops over onto the floor like a beached seal. “I’m taking a nap.”
“No, it’s fine, you just lay there and make me do all the work,” Iruka grumbles, man-handling Kakashi onto his side so he can follow the String. Kakashi gives an exhausted snicker.
“I’d make a joke right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
“I don’t understand why you aren’t more upset about this!” Iruka rolls Kakashi over and lifts a leg to peek underneath. “It’s not fair! We deserve better!”
“I’ve just…kinda accepted it.” Kakashi lets out a quiet sigh.
That weary resignation simultaneously breaks Iruka’s heart and pisses him off even more. Not at Kakashi, but at his absolute shit of a Soulmate, breaking a hardened ninja more thoroughly than any torture could.
“Well, you shouldn’t!” Muttering under his breath, Iruka works harder, faster, carefully untangling and reeling in his String, winding it around his finger like a fisherman reeling in their catch, eager to claim the prize. Kakashi plays along, going limp like a fish, which honestly makes it easier for Iruka to wrestle him about than if he’d actually tried to help. The earlier fear is gone, replaced by annoyance and burgeoning sympathy. Iruka knows what if feels like to be alone, to crave human contact, and be denied. No-one deserved to be lonely. “He’s a shitwagon for putting you through this!”
“I’m sure he’s got a great personality.”
“I’m serious! What kind of sick, sadistic fuck would-”
The String ends abruptly, tied snugly around a thin, calloused pinky. Iruka blinks in surprise, then looks up.
Straight into Kakashi’s eyes.
They both freeze in place, staring at each other in shock before their gazes dart back down to the String.
“Uh.”
“Um.”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Maybe I…took a wrong turn-” Iruka begins weakly.
“Lemme check.” Kakashi pushes his headband up to unveil the famed Sharingan eye, shockingly red with pinwheels of black. It whirls for an instant, mapping the String in its entirety with ease, then he tugs the headband back down and sags, going even paler. Iruka has to grab his shoulders just to keep him upright. “Nope. You didn’t.”
“Whu- buh- you could have done that the entire time?!” Iruka explodes in outrage.
“And give up the chance to be groped by a cute guy? I don’t think so.” Kakashi gives him a cheeky grin and a wink, or maybe he’s starting to pass out, he probably really definitely shouldn’t have used his Sharingan in his current condition.
Iruka’s face is suddenly hot because he’s angry. And that’s the only reason.
They sit there for a while.
“…So,” Kakashi says, recovering enough to sit up, “do you still want to kick me in the dick?” Iruka slowly pulls his hands away and shuffles back to give him some space.
“I…don’t know,” he carefully replies. “Do you still want to punch me in the eye?” Kakashi’s mouth twitches beneath his mask.
“I don’t know.”
There’s another pause.
“Maybe…” Kakashi finally says, breaking the silence, “maybe we could…discuss it over…a drink?” He tentatively holds out a hand, part introduction, part peace offering. The Red String dangling from his pinky winks in the light.
Iruka stares at it for a long moment, then huffs out a laugh and leans in to take his hand.
And then his String trips him again, and he pitches forward, a hand flailing out to snag a finger on Kakshi’s mask and yanking it down just in time for their mouths to violently connect.
Asshole.
-End-