Chapter Text
Before Kyubi
It was a clear day. Sunny to the point where Iruka felt like he could do anything.
“So you remember the rules?” His father smiled. “The higher the level of shinobi you prank, the higher the reward.”
“Does that mean I can get whatever I want if I prank an ANBU?” Iruka beamed, earning a sigh from his father.
“Let’s see if you can prank a genin or chūnin first,” Ikkaku smiled. “Then we’ll see what happens.”
“Fine,” Iruka agreed. “But I’m going to get a jōnin!”
“Iruka, I know you always aim high,” Ikkaku started, “but don’t be disappointed if you can’t get a jōnin. There’s always room for improvement.”
“No. I’ll definitely get a jōnin and you have to buy me Ichiraku ramen if I do.”
“Okay.” Ikkaku sighed dramatically. “If you get a jōnin, you’ll get your ramen.”
His father always said pranks were the best kind of shinobi training.
“Anyone can throw a kunai,” Ikkaku had told him once while helping redraw one of Iruka’s ruined seal formulas. “But a good prank means understanding how people think.”
At the time, Iruka had mostly cared about the rewards.
Candy for genin.
New equipment for chūnin.
And the promise of Ichiraku ramen if he ever managed a jōnin.
Iruka suspected his parents had realized early on that their son was going to become a menace and decided to make him productive about it.
It didn’t take long for Iruka to come up with a plan.
He had been practicing explosive tags for weeks, and while they were still crude, he was proud of them. Good enough for a prank. Good enough for a jōnin.
He chose a quiet street where shinobi often passed on routine patrols. Two timed tags. All he needed to concentrate on was the timing of setting the first tag.
Except, as he waited, something about the approaching chakra made him hesitate.
It didn’t feel heavy, exactly. Just… smooth. Like water moving too fast to follow. This was someone who was in complete control of their chakra.
Iruka frowned, then shook it off.
A jōnin was a jōnin.
The figure stepped into range.
Iruka triggered the first tag.
There was a pop of smoke and a burst of purple paint.
A beat later, another seal flared.
A second explosion of glitter erupted over the target, sparkling violently in the sunlight like a badly judged festival.
Iruka grinned proudly.
Then he saw the stillness.
The man didn’t stumble. Didn’t panic. He simply stood there, slowly blinking as paint and glitter slid off his clothes in shimmering trails.
“…Huh,” the blonde said mildly, glancing down at himself.
Iruka’s grin faltered slightly.
From across the street, Ikkaku had gone completely rigid.
“Please tell me,” he said quietly, “that was not you.”
“Of course it was!” Iruka beamed. “What do you think?”
“That’s Namikaze Minato,” Ikkaku whispered, sounding like he was genuinely scared for his life. Well. This was a first. “He might become the next Hokage.”
Iruka blinked.
“So that means I get ramen?”
“That’s if he doesn’t kill us first,” Ikkaku muttered.
Across the street, Minato simply watched the mixed sludge of glitter and paint drip slowly from his sleeves.
For a moment, he just stood there looking mildly amused despite himself.
“…Creative,” Minato smiled.
His gaze shifted briefly to the side, where a man had just grabbed a child by the back of the collar and started dragging him away at alarming speed.
Umino Ikkaku.
Minato’s eyes lingered for a fraction longer.
Not on the man.
On the child still half-turning back, seemingly more concerned with the outcome of his prank than the consequences of it.
The timing had been precise.
Minato exhaled softly, amusement still lingering beneath something more thoughtful.
A child who understood timing that well would either grow out of it…
or grow into something dangerous.
Either way, worth remembering.
—
After Kyuubi
The rewards stopped mattering.
There was no one left to bargain ramen from anymore.
But Iruka kept pranking people anyway.
Yes.
Umino Iruka was acting out.
But what else could he do?
His parents had died for the village, and unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly praise the Third Hokage for the way things had been handled afterward. People were struggling. And he didn’t even want to get started on the whole orphan situation.
Still, some things stayed with you.
His father and mother had always told him the best way to improve his skills was through pranking. Pranking required seals, barriers, timing, and chakra sensing.
Over the years, Iruka had improved quite a lot.
More than people realized, probably.
Most shinobi used barriers to keep enemies out.
Iruka used them to keep people in.
More specifically, he could now sense and trap ANBU.
Or rather, he could sense the lack of chakra. The only thing he could compare it to was waking up in the morning and his eyes not fully focusing on what was in front of him, something blurred to avoid being seen but still present in a way.
You couldn’t see it, but you knew it was there.
The ANBU currently trapped in one of his barriers didn’t seem particularly happy about it.
To be fair, none of them ever were.
A few had started actively avoiding entire sections of the district after previous incidents. Iruka considered that a personal achievement.
Others kept coming back, though.
Iruka had started privately ranking them.
Cat Mask was decent at spotting trap seals but terrible with barriers. Iruka was almost certain that Cat Mask was the same age as him.
Bear Mask fell for the same exploding tag variation three times, which was honestly embarrassing.
Dog Mask, however, was annoyingly competent.
Which only made trapping him more satisfying.
The dog-masked ANBU pressed two fingers lightly against the edge of the barrier.
Blue chakra rippled sharply across the transparent surface before snapping against his hand.
The visible eye narrowed slightly.
“Yeah, don’t do that,” Iruka said proudly. “I'm quite proud of version four.”
The ANBU stared at him.
“Version two was a ticking time bomb, far too dangerous for a prank,” Iruka admitted. “Version three was also a little too dangerous. We’re improving.”
The ANBU looked unconvinced.
This one looked to be around Iruka’s age, maybe a little older, but still considerably younger than some of the ANBU he had trapped before.
Iruka didn’t blame him for looking offended.
Being stuck in a barrier was never fun.
And it didn’t help that Iruka was feeling a little more cheeky than usual. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. He didn’t know.
Unfortunately, the ANBU was going to suffer the consequences of his mood.
“ANBU-san. I’ll let you go if you do one thing,” Iruka said.
The ANBU tilted his head slightly.
It was funny how even now he still refused to speak. Maybe he was going through puberty or something. A cracked voice did not exactly scream elite shinobi.
“A kiss and I’ll let you go.”
The ANBU was clearly judging him.
“Get your head out of the gutter,” Iruka sighed. “A perfectly innocent kiss. On the cheek. I’ll even close my eyes to protect your modesty.”
The ANBU considered this for a few seconds before giving a sharp nod.
Well.
That was unexpected.
Iruka honestly had not thought the ANBU would agree so easily. So much for secret services. This guy would probably hand over village secrets if cornered.
It made Iruka rethink a few things about the Third Hokage’s standards.
As agreed, Iruka released the barrier and closed his eyes.
He fully expected the ANBU to take the opportunity and disappear. That would have been the sensible option.
Iruka just wanted to be a menace. Terrorizing people was fun. But he had not actually thought through the request itself.
A kiss on the cheek had been the first thing that came to mind, and it wasn’t like he could take it back now.
He had a reputation to maintain.
A quick press of lips against his own made Iruka stumble backward in shock.
That was not a cheek.
“It was supposed to be on the cheek!” Iruka spluttered, eyes snapping open.
The ANBU’s mask was already back in place as though nothing had happened. He tilted his head again, calm and unreadable.
“Oh my God,” Iruka groaned. “That was my first kiss.”
The ANBU froze.
Completely froze.
It only lasted a second, but Iruka swore the ANBU looked genuinely alarmed.
“Oh no,” Iruka said slowly. "Don't you dare— "
The ANBU vanished instantly.
“HEY!” Iruka yelled after him. “YOU CANNOT KISS SOMEONE AND FLEE THE SCENE.”
Silence.
Iruka stood there for several long seconds before slowly touching his mouth.
“…Well,” he muttered. Then, after a pause, “I’m definitely counting that as a success.”