Chapter Text
The last bell of the day rang, and before Iruka could even form the words to dismiss the class, they were already bursting out the door. He heaved a heavy sigh, tomorrow he was going to have to remind them that they had to wait for him to dismiss them. Every Monday the kids would come back from the weekend with all manners forgotten. He turned around and started erasing the board.
“Hey, Iruka,” the teacher from the classroom next door popped her head in. “I’m heading out early today, but I wanted to let you know that a couple of the other instructors mentioned the rooftop fence is bent again.”
“Ugh, probably one of the kids trying to sneak out,” Iruka sighed, not looking up from the board.
“I don't know. They said there were footprints this time, and they definitely don't look child-sized,” she said, a flicker of concern crossing her face.
“Right. I’ll check it out before I leave,” he promised, gathering the papers that needed grading and stashing them into his canvas bag. He knew that those papers were just going to be carried around and not get graded at all at home.
“Thank you, Iruka! You’re the best!” She waved cheerfully before turning down the hall, eager to get home.
Iruka continued his daily ritual of cleaning the classroom, he walked between rows of desks, picking up stray pencils, and tossing crumpled papers into the bin. Finally, he made his way back to his desk and grabbed his thermos. It was still warm to the touch. Today had been utterly chaotic, and he hadn’t even had a single chance to drink his tea.
With his bag slung over his shoulder and the classroom finally looking presentable, he headed toward the stairwell that led to the Academy roof.
As he stepped out into the crisp evening air, his eyes immediately caught the bent of the fence. As his eyes tracked past the bent metal, he noticed something else, a figure lying down a few yards away.
Iruka approached cautiously, only for his eyes to widen as he realized exactly who was trespassing on school property.
Hatake Kakashi was sprawled lazily on the concrete, his face completely covered by a thoroughly obnoxious orange book as he slept.
Iruka stared down at the elite shinobi for a full ten seconds in sheer disbelief.
“…You know this is a school, right?” Iruka finally asked, crossing his arms.
Kakashi didn't move a single millimeter.
“I had no idea,” a muffled voice drawled from beneath the cover of Icha Icha Paradise. “That explains all the screaming.”
Iruka blinked. “You were awake?”
“Does having one eye open count as awake?”
“You can’t sleep on the Academy roof, Kakashi-san.”
Kakashi lifted the book just an inch, allowing a single, lazy dark eye to peek out at him. “Why not?”
“Why not???...Because it’s weird!”
“That sounds entirely subjective.”
Iruka adjusted his grip on his bag strap. “There are actual, furnished apartments in this village. I know for a fact you own one.”
“Yes,” Kakashi agreed smoothly, dropping the book back over his face. “Unfortunately, mine doesn’t have this view.”
Iruka opened his mouth to fire back a retort, but the words died in his throat. He took a closer look at the man lying before him. He noticed the sharp, tense lines of Kakashi's shoulders. The man didn't just look like he needed a quick nap; he looked exhausted. It was the kind of deep, hollow exhaustion that settled into a person's very bones.
Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his visible eye, and there was a heavy looseness to his posture. It didn't look like he was relaxed, it looked like he had collapsed after finally having stopped running after pushing himself too hard, for too long.
Something in Iruka’s irritation faltered, melting into a quiet, heavy sympathy.
Kakashi seemed to notice the sudden shift in the air immediately. The book tilted up again, his eye narrowing slightly with suspicion.
“…What?”
“Nothing,” Iruka said quickly, too quickly.
“That sounded judgmental.”
“It was concern, actually.” He drawled out.
“Gross. That’s worse,” Kakashi said, offering a mock shudder.
Iruka huffed softly, turning his gaze away to look out over the village below. He had to admit, Kakashi wasn't wrong about the view. From up here, the chaos of the leaf village smoothed out into a beautiful tapestry. He could hear the faint, distant sounds of vendors shouting out prices, children playing in the streets, and parents laughing or scolding their kids. Everyone was going about their lives, safe and warm. The village was full of vibrant life.
Behind him, the rustle of pages signaled Kakashi settling back down.
“…You’re still here,” the copy ninja observed after a long moment.
Iruka frowned, looking over his shoulder. “So are you. Plus, one of us actually belongs here.”
“Fair,” Kakashi murmured.
A quiet silence settled over the rooftop. By all accounts, it should have been awkward, but strangely, it wasn't. Iruka looked down at his hands and realized he was still clutching his thermos, the warmth radiating against his palm.
“Want some tea?”
The words blurted out of his mouth before his brain could stop them.
Kakashi slowly lowered his book again, eyeing Iruka as if expecting a trap. “…Are you trying to poison me, Sensei?”
“I’m actively considering it.”
“Hm.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
Kakashi sat up with agonizing slowness, carefully marking his page before placing the book face-down on the concrete. He reached out, his long fingers closing around the thermos Iruka extended toward him. Their fingers brushed briefly. In that fleeting second, Iruka noticed just how freezing Kakashi’s hands were. He stubbornly ignored the sudden, strange warmth that flushed up his own neck in response.
Kakashi took a small, cautious sip. He paused, blinked, and then took a much larger gulp.
“Huh. This is actually really good,” he admitted.
“I do know how to boil water,” Iruka said, trying and failing to suppress a smile.
“A dangerous, highly classified skill you have there,” Kakashi retorted.
Instead of hovering awkwardly over the Jonin, Iruka decided to sit down. He dropped to the concrete a respectable distance away…not too close, but close enough to share the quiet space. Together, they watched the village drown in the warm, golden hues of the evening light, sipping tea in comfortable silence.
After a few minutes, Kakashi broke the quiet. “So, what keeps you here so late anyway?”
Iruka looked down at his own hands, noting the faint white residue of chalk dusting his knuckles. “Work. Grading, lesson plans, cleaning…you know the life of a teacher”
“That’s depressing.”
“You’re literally sleeping on top of a school.”
“Also a fair point.”
Iruka let out a sudden laugh before he could catch himself. The bright sound surprised both of them, cutting through the serene quiet of the evening. Kakashi turned his head, his gaze lingering on Iruka a fraction of a second too long.
Then, softly, almost under his breath, Kakashi murmured, “You should laugh more.”
Iruka’s cheeks burned, and he immediately snapped his gaze back to the horizon. “That was weirdly sincere.”
“I am regretting it already.”
“Good.”
Despite the words, the corner of Kakashi’s eye curved into a faint, hidden smile. A quiet chuckle passed between them before fading back into the evening breeze, both of them returning to their own thoughts as they watched the lights of Konoha flicker on one by one.
Eventually, Iruka stood up, brushing the dust and grit off his pants.
“Well. Try not to get arrested for trespassing.”
“No promises.”
Iruka hesitated, his hand rising to awkwardly scratch at the bridge of his nose, right over his horizontal scar. “You can, uh… you can keep it until tomorrow,” he said, nodding vaguely toward the thermos in Kakashi's hand. From this angle, Iruka’s eyes caught on the dark plastic of the lid; there, stark and white against the green, was a faint smear of the ever-present chalk dust that seemed to follow him everywhere. Kakashi’s long, pale fingers were resting right beside it.
Kakashi blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “…Tomorrow?”
Iruka instantly wanted to throw himself from the rooftop.
“I just mean…if you’re still illegally living up here, or whatever! Just so I can get it back!” he stammered, desperately trying to play it cool.
Kakashi stared at him for another beat, an unreadable expression in his eye, before nodding slowly.
“Right,” he said softly, a hint of something warm in his tone. “If I’m still illegally living here.”
Iruka practically bolted for the stairwell before he could embarrass himself any further. Halfway down the concrete stairs, he pressed both hands against his burning face. What is wrong with me?
Up on the roof, Kakashi looked down at the dark green thermos in his hands for a long, quiet moment.
Then, instead of tossing it carelessly into his weapons pouch like he did with almost everything else he owned, he set it down beside him on the concrete. Gently. Like it mattered.
—-----------
The next morning, Iruka practically sprinted down the Academy hallway. He was running dangerously late after oversleeping. His night had been plagued by a series of disjointed, restless nightmares. The kind he couldn't quite remember upon waking, but that left him sweating, shaky, and completely exhausted.
He burst into his classroom, hurried over to his desk, and stopped dead in his tracks.
Sitting right in the center of his desk was his dark green thermos.
He picked it up gingerly. It had been washed, dried, and felt surprisingly heavy. Intrigued, Iruka unscrewed the cap.
The rich, aromatic scent of incredibly expensive, premium tea leaves instantly hit his senses.
Iruka stared at it in a daze. “Oh…”
“Oh?” a voice echoed. One of the neighboring teachers was walking past the open door and had spotted his expression.
Iruka snapped the lid shut, his face flushing. “It’s not an 'oh.'”
“That definitely sounded like an 'oh.'”
“It wasn’t.”
The teacher leaned against the doorframe, a dramatic, teasing smirk playing on her lips. “So, who is he?”
“There is no 'he'!”
“Mmhmm.”
Iruka pointed the thermos at her threateningly. “You people are entirely unbearable.”
The teacher gasped, pointing a finger at him. “You’re smiling!”
“I am not!”
“You literally are!”
Iruka immediately forced his face into a flat, neutral line, but it was too late. She was entirely right. Shaking off her teasing with a wave of his hand, he shooed her away from the door and frantically began setting up his chalkboard for the morning lesson.
Upstairs on the roof, Kakashi lay back against the concrete, the morning sun warming his vest. Hidden right beside him was a second thermos.
Completely full, just in case.