The thing Iruka hated most was 'waiting'. He felt nervous, uneasy and weak during the time he was waiting. For him, it was better to get a sudden surprise in any form, than to wait for something promised and not get it. To his utter pity, Iruka found himself in the waiting state a lot.

The point was, his dear friend Kakashi was never in time. Moreover, he could promise to come and disappeared. It was not that he necessarily had fun during Iruka's endless 'waiting'. Usually it was an urgent mission or a complete exhaustion that kept him away. But it didn't make it easier for Iruka, as he usually sat alone and again and again reconsidered all terrible questions - 'Where is Kakashi?', 'What is he doing instead of visiting me as he had promised?', 'What if he just teases me? He loves it', What if he is with someone else?'

Iruka couldn't help first thinking, then rethinking the situations related to the jounin.

Like the day before yesterday, when Kakashi said he comes to stay the night. He didn't come, but at least he sent a message with one of his nin-dogs. There he wrote he was tired and asked a permission to come to Iruka the next day instead. The written words jumped over one another and were so twisted it was almost impossible to understand. But Iruka only exhaled a relieved sigh, wrote his agreement in his perfect neat script and additionally wished the jounin a good night sleep.

The next day Iruka waited whole evening and part of the night, but no one appeared, no Kakashi and even no note. That was sickeningly depressing.

It happened not for the first time, but it was in Iruka's power to make this time the last.

In the middle of the day Iruka was at his desk in the very crowded mission room. He noticed immediately when the silver-haired jounin entered the room. Out of the tail of his eye he followed Kakashi's movements and gathered the courage to do what he decided to do.

Now, he wasn't as enormously angry as yesterday night. Still, he hated the waiting process so much he thought he couldn't take it anymore. That's why, when Kakashi finally came to his desk and leaned forward with apologies and usual witless reasons of absence, he pushed him away and made him stay strait.

"It's over," he declared calmly. "I'm not waiting for you anymore."

Kakashi blinked, totally amazed. Then he frowned at Iruka.

"But Iruka, wait. There was…"

Iruka shook his head and forcefully put a new mission scroll into Kakashi's outstretched hand. He won't wait anymore; he won't suffer that awful state of helplessness anymore.

"Next!" cried Iruka. The next shinobi in line carefully moved the stunned silver-haired jounin sideways and gave Iruka his fresh mission report. Iruka turned his eyes down and sank into his work. When he looked up again, there was no Kakashi in the mission room.

That evening was the worst. Iruka sat on his couch with the cup of hot tea clenched in his cold palms and stared into the darkening sky through the opened window. He didn't notice when the tears started to slide down his cheeks. Once they started he couldn't stop them.

They say that cognition comes through comparison. This statement is probably the most truthful thing possible.

It was thousands times harder to sit there realizing that Kakashi won't come again, than to patiently or impatiently wait for him. At least earlier he knew there would be Kakashi near him sooner or later and they could discuss his behavior and he could promise to be never late to their meetings again. Then there was hope. And now? And now Iruka was completely alone with no Kakashi to wait for.

He felt hollow, dreadful and lonely. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't stop thinking and he couldn't help but regret his spontaneous decision to break the relationship.

Another unexpected thing Iruka realized, was that he would wait anyway. Even in spite of this time it was the wait without hope, he knew, even if unconsciously, he would wait.

The morning came and found Iruka still on the couch and still crying. With the morning also came the quiet knock on the door.

Desperate in his suffer, Iruka opened the door wide and there was the silver-haired jounin on his porch, panting hard and with a mission report clenched in his fist. Kakashi's eyes widened as he examined Iruka's battered appearance.

"What happened to you?" asked Kakashi, his voice anxious and a bit panicking. "Did you go to the club again? Did someone harm you? Are you hurt? Iruka, why are you crying?"

Iruka shook his head and grabbed Kakashi's arm, pulling him into the hallway.

"I said those harsh words yesterday. I was rethinking it whole night and I'm taking them back. If you'll let me, that is."

Frowning, Kakashi tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eye.

"What harsh words?"

"In the mission room, yesterday I said I won't be waiting for you from now on, "Iruka sobbed and averted his eyes. "That was on emotions and in haste, so…"

Kakashi laughed and fondly folded Iruka in his tender arms.

"Maa, silly. Actually, you have to do something more significant to get rid of me."