Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

A/N: Alright, this is simultaneously a tribute to all the people who have been (and probably will be this year too) lonely at those upcoming holidays (that generally make 95% of the people feel awful) and a tribute to a character that I love dearly and think deserves to be recognized as one of the main reasons Naruto became what he is.

And since The Rinne Festival is the closest there is to Christmas in the Narutoverse, I came up with a mini-story. Also, I never once saw a fanfic in which he's not paired up with a man so… I invented one myself. In my humble opinion, being a submissive wreck in a yaoi smut is not the only thing Iruka can be lol I still hope people understand how terribly cute he is, though.

Enjoy.

I.

- Iruka Of The Sea -

"Iruka-sensei!"

He turned around by instinct, seeking the source of the so well-known voice. The Konoha markets were opulent, as they always were by this time of the year, and he was making his best to reply to the grandeur of it all, especially the good mood, but he just woke up with an indifference that was just like stained on him. Nothing moved him the way it should have.

He did not mind the noise or the colors, he was just used to being an observer rather than a participator and now he just wandered the streets within some profound loss of sense and direction, trying to figure out why he was feeling like a feather to the wind this whole morning. Of course, a certain voice dragged him out of that state immediately and whenever he heard it calling him, he was ready to answer.

"Naruto." Iruka smiled at him as he approached, a little out of breath and cheeks red from the cold.

"You headed somewhere, sensei? You're walking pretty fast." Naruto looked around him almost as if the surroundings could give him some clue, but Iruka was quick to differ.

"Just the opposite. I've got a free day from the Academy and every time that happens I don't really know what to do with my time." He shrugged. "And I already trained a few hours ago. What's wrong?"

"Uh, well… we're making a party at my house for the Festival and…" Naruto put his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "I am inviting you to come for the dinner."

"Me?" Iruka was confused for a moment and Naruto nodded energetically.

"Naruto, you're now-," Iruka laughed, without finishing the sentence. He was really silly sometimes.

"I'm what?" Naruto leaned in, puckering up.

"You're a married man now, don't you want to spend your first Rinne Festival with your wife? I want to respect your privacy-"

"You're not gonna get away from this." Naruto pouted. "You're coming."

"This is not a question." Iruka caressed his temple nervously.

"No, it's not. Waiting for you at seven." Naruto grinned at him, hitting his arm so hard that he barely kept his balance, and before he could object any further, Naruto was walking away.

Well, if he was happy, why not?

Iruka sighed heavily and went on with his aimless walking. He didn't have anything to do tonight anyway, but there was one thought he had in mind or a few days now. Maybe that was why his reluctance to go to a party was so strong. The plan consisted of a visit to the Cemetery this afternoon and what more convenient day for that than the Rinne Festival itself?

In any case, he was glad that Naruto insisted on his presence as passionately – it was nice to feel like he cared as much, even though he married a couple of months ago and it seemed to him that the right thing to do for Naruto was to give more attention to Hinata during the holidays since they were the first ones they spent together. But if he wanted him to be there, then so be it.

It's been a while since he wore that kimono, but given the holiday and the strange atmosphere he was beginning to feel around, it was quite apt. The folds of the hakama were of grey and white shepherd's plaid, while the haori covered his shoulders with a clean black. He was fond of the simplicity in clothes rather than any particular combination of colors and that's why he found that kimono to be something like a solace to his eyes among that sea of vivid nuances they met outside on the streets, the lanterns, the clothes, and the decorations.

Either this was really a madness and people fell into frenzied fits during the holidays or it was just him and he was getting older. Probably both.

He was relieved when he finally found Naruto's house and knocked on the door a few times. Muffled voices reached his ears as he waited patiently at the threshold, holding a tiny box in his hands and eyes scanning the alley thoughtfully. The sun was almost down and dusk was covering most of the village in ever-growing shadows. Something told him that it was going to rain soon so he brought an umbrella as well.

It was a tradition, to give gifts to your loved ones every Rinne Festival. In fact, the festival had dual purposes, but some ignored one of the sides at expense of the other. Other people, like him, chose to honor both sides. He had loved ones, whom he cared about and he was obliged to be prepared with a gift at least to his host, which turned out not an easy matter, but in the end, he ended up with something that satisfied him. As for the other side of the holiday, he would think about it later.

"Iruka-sensei!" Naruto beamed when he opened the door.

"Yeah, yeah, ok." Iruka laughed faintly, his heart filling with warmth at Naruto's reaction. He suppressed the wish to scold him for still being so childish and smiled back instead. "I've got you something… it's not much but I think you'll like it."

Naruto backed away and took the box from his hands eagerly.

"It's…" Iruka coughed, to clear up his throat. "It's a kunai dagger that belonged to my father. I want you to have it."

"Really?" Naruto's eyes widened. "B-but, Iruka-sensei-"

"It's yours. End of story." Iruka raised his hand to silence him with an admonishing tone and moved Naruto away from the entrance so that he could go inside.

Naruto stormed words and phrases of gratitude in the next minutes, but Iruka made his best to ignore them, flushing red at the sound of only the first one. Some people thought he's being modest by nature, but it was his phenomenal disability to accept compliments and give them properly really.

The part in his brain that was responsible for fighting was quite alright, but the part where social skills resided was, frankly, shut down completely for some reason. This all created awkward situations in his life on a daily basis.

Naruto had invited most of his friends over, as it turned out – Ino, Sai and Sakura were aheap in one corner of the room, discussing something with excitement; the other side was comically opposite – Shikamaru was looking exasperated to his very core next to a silent Shino, a cross Temari and an eating Kiba. He saw other familiar faces as well and noted the formal clothing and youthful faces with a pleasant surprise.

It's not been long since the War ended and he expected them to be still… he didn't quite know what, but maybe the word he was looking for was mourning. Fortunately, they all seemed bright and happy, which eased him too, he had to be honest. He had always felt responsible for their safety and happiness, not as directly as he did with Naruto, but their happiness was important for him.

The dinner was more than lovely and he couldn't help but feel just a little bit jealous – Hinata was even a finer cook that he had anticipated her to be and Naruto did not seem to appreciate her magnificent skills as much as she deserved, busy handling the interest of all his guests at once. Iruka didn't blame him – he was the village's hero and the first one to get married of them all. His persona was the most intriguing one in the house and Iruka didn't blame him at all.

It was entertaining to watch from aside – his struggles to keep the attention, the joy in his sky-blue eyes he thanked his friends for coming numerous times. He deserved this, every single smile and hug, and gift. The pride swelled in Iruka's chest as he sat next to Kakashi at the end of the table in the wide dining room and both commented on the long way everyone's come through and the fact that they were no longer the children they had to protect and watch over.

"So," Kakashi sighed, his fingers making absent circles over the rim of his sake cup. "How are you doing, lately? Anything new?"

"Nothing new," Iruka admitted, enjoying the next rant that Sai's remarks caused. The fuss was becoming a bit overwhelming so he had to lean into Kakashi so that they could hear each other clearly. The latter was suspicious of the answer he got and raised a brow.

"You say it like it's a great thing."

"It is, for me."

"And why is that?"

Iruka shrugged.

"In my experience, new means change and change means suffering. I'm fine with nothing new, I even prefer it."

Kakashi pierced him with an inquisitive and a silent look that made Iruka slightly uncomfortable. He could feel the judgmental flow of thoughts that ran through Kakashi's head all too clearly. There was something cowardly about this way of thinking, he knew it without saying. But lately, he was just tired of changes, of that mental load he carried, the responsibilities, the shinobi's duty. He was tired of living with those memories that chased him every time he found himself alone in the dark.

Kakashi wasn't like him.

Kakashi was a warrior by heart; a strong, unbreakable spirit. He was resolute in a specific way that no one could imitate. It was something of a gift, the way he was leading people. That's why he was chosen by the people, that's why they trusted them with their lives and crowned him a Hokage without any doubt. The Council was unanimous as well. Tragedies seemed to just sweep through him evanescently and it looked from aside that he did not fight them long before taking over and continuing on his path as a winner.

Iruka tried living that way, but the pattern in his life was not quite the same. Something, that he wasn't aware of, went wrong. He felt less like a winner at the end of his battles and more like a survivor. It was not the same… and it was not enough.

Kakashi was in a navy blue shirt and a loosened bowtie around his collar, seemingly not in the mood to discuss the subject or dig any deeper; just as pleased to witness the clamor around them. The look on his face was more tired than usual, though, and Iruka wondered if something troubles him. Kakashi was so easy to read that even the slightest worry was written on his features and could be seen from miles.

"I don't like this festival." Kakashi took a breath, leaning back in his chair. "I'm honest." He turned to meet Iruka's eyes, waiting for a reaction.

"Me neither." Iruka turned away from him, draining his glass at once. "Makes you think about all sorts of things you usually avoid during the other days." He left the cup on the table and smiled at Hinata, who just happened to meet his gaze from across the table. "But you look more worried than usual. Something wrong?"

"Yeah. He's late and I don't like it."

Iruka glanced at his friend and was just about to require the details of this comment when a distant knocking hushed the voices in the room and dragged the attention. Naruto stood up and exchanged glanced with Sakura before both of them left the room together. The conversations continued quietly as Iruka gestured Kakashi to get up with a smile. It was rare to have his team gathered together like this so he had to meet them properly as well.

"Come on, go." Iruka incited him, glad to see the relief on Kakashi's face when he laid eyes on Sasuke as he entered the room wearily, followed by Naruto and Sakura. "It's a bad omen to remain all alone on this day."

"You just made this up, didn't you?" Kakashi gave him a meaning look but standing up to meet his pupils nevertheless.

Iruka knew best of all that to see your students live and well was the greatest gift any teacher could receive, which was why seeing the teams together was the happiest moment of all this. Not the food, the drinks or the presents.

He observed the scenery for a while – the groups, the chatting and then his gaze shifted to the window on his right. The view showed the busy side of the street and the puffs of smoke that came off the lined up shops and houses. The millions of lights sparkled in a cold yellow light and he thought that he hadn't seen such a resplendent view in a while – at least not across his apartment. There was a dark line of just as grey apartments and it was more of a secluded part of the neighborhood.

Iruka slowly stood up and pushed his chair back to the table. It was time for the other part of the holiday.

He looked up, finding a pair of beautiful nacreous eyes already watching him with a tint of sadness. She wished to make him feel comfortable and worried that he did not have a good time, surely, but he had to go. A light bow in her way and a smile seemed to appease her because she smiled back and stood up to send him off to the door.

The wind usually whirled harshly at this time of the year, but today it was mild and just as nipping as it was in the morning. The pathway to the Cemetery was lit up by red-colored lantern for those who were headed that way. Iruka followed them quietly, squeezing his umbrella and trying his best to not feel down.

He woke up with bad anticipation and it lingered with him throughout the day. It made him hate himself for not standing up to it or not making any attempt at discarding it. It was of no use. The sadness had taken a hold on him and he could just float his way to the end of tonight, when he'll be done with this day for the rest of the year.

The Cemetery was almost desolate (which he expected because most villagers visited it in the morning and celebrated with their loved ones in the evening) and he was glad of it, passing by a few elderly men and women on their way back to the village. Candles illuminated every grave from one side to the other and he orientated easily among them, stopping at the one he searched for at last.

Iruka kneeled down on the cold stone and looked down at the frail flicker.

They left this life protecting the village. They left, serving to their beliefs; fulfilling their fates, protecting the innocent. Everything the shinobi was meant for. However he had looked at it, through whatever angle or logic he channeled their choices through, they were impeccable and he was… on the losing side. The side that had no say in the matter.

Maybe that was better, remaining silent on the subject. Because he said many bad words and he poured a lot of anger upon the stone he was resting, throughout the years. The anger evaporated with time, leaving a thin surface of bitterness. There was no point in revolting, though. Facts were facts. He lived through his worst years, it was easier now. Or so he said to himself.

The wind howled with an unexpected blow and extinguished the tiny flame, despite that he tried to cover and save it. It wasn't completely dark and he lit it up again but had a hard time figuring out how to protect it from the wind, cupping it in his hands.

"You can tuck it between the flower stand and the wall."

He turned around to see an approaching girl – her voice gave her away – and before he could discern her features, she was kneeling next to him and pushing the candle further to the stand. "That way it's shielded from almost all sides. The wind won't touch it." There was something intriguing and pleasant in her voice, a singsong tone that reminded chanting.

It was probably going to occur to him sooner or later, but he was so lost in thought that he might've appeared in need of help. Embarrassing, nevertheless."Thank you." He spoke, a little bit surprised to see someone so eager to keep those candles alive. Usually, on a windy night, nobody cared if they went out. The majority of people came during the day anyway.

She assured the candle was safe and relaxed back on her legs, peering at it in silence. Iruka took the moment to look at her and remained surprised. He had the extremely vague idea that he's seen her before. Could be that he was imagining. That azure, haunting glaze of her eyes was strangely familiar. She was in a kimono herself, but her head and shoulders were covered by a plain scarf that likely kept her from the cold.

Iruka was so distracted by the way the flame reflected in her light eyes and danced on her skin that when she turned to look at him directly in the eyes, he didn't even bother looking away. Her eyes were a captivating sea-blue and he could see only now that a few locks of short dark hair had escaped and swung freely to the wind.

Her static posture and shameless reply to his stare were all the more intriguing, given the fact that the two of them were probably the only ones left at the Cemetery. She was so pale and it seemed like she didn't blink at all, and after a tensed minute he wondered if she wasn't a ghost or an apparition of some kind.

He had ever seen a woman so ethereal and, truth be told, she was frighteningly daring. Her face had seen sorrow and loss, that was for sure. He recognized those when he saw them.

"Of the sea." She finally spoke, or rather whispered, with a small smile on her lips and gaze onto the candle.

"Excuse me?" Iruka couldn't stop the question from rolling out of him.

"Umino."

Iruka let out a puff.

"Yeah."

"I love the sea." The girl turned to look at him again. "I've seen it many times during my travels. It is the most beautiful sight I've seen in my life."

Iruka was unaware of what he was supposed to say to this, so he remained quiet for a while. That magnetic gaze of hers was disabling all kinds of abilities he had thought he acquired.

"Forgive me, do I know you?" He narrowed eyes, trying hard to remember.

She chuckled.

"You might've seen me once or twice. I live in the apartment across yours. We are," There was a distinct pause that he didn't fail to notice, "neighbors."

A/N: Thanks a lot for reading! Hope you'll like the continuation and hope you like the OC, I wanted her to be kinda mystical in the spirit of the holidays. I'll probably either post all chapters at once or very soon one after the other.