Once a Sensei... Always a Sensei
Date Posted: 8/29/16
Word Count: 4294
Contains mild post-canon spoilers.
Iruka didn't feel like a sensei anymore, and it was no small wonder why.
It had been almost a decade since his appointment as Konoha's first Director of Education, as well as the superintendent of the Academy. Umino-hakase, the students called him now. Since the Sandaime, the title of 'Professor' was a grand one to live up to, even if the context was entirely different.
Instead of a lively classroom, Iruka spent all day in his own personal office. He signed off on grade reports, he analyzed student performance rates, he planned the graduation of the senior class and even wrote letters of recommendation toward the planning of the next batch of genin teams. And like the face of an old clock, it was his job to display the results of all the hard work that went on within—every cog and gear working together to make a greater entity function as it was meant to. And if the clock was the school, then the household was the village. And the village relied on the Academy as a reflection of time passed just as a house did a clock.
It was a lot to strive for. A truly noble goal, and everything Iruka could've dreamed of doing in his younger days, had he been entirely honest with himself. Because as strenuous and nerve-wracking as it was—coaching other peoples' children in hopes that one day they might avoid an early death on some distant battlefield—it was the most gratifying mission he'd ever been granted. And it still wasn't over.
Then why did this room feel so terribly empty?
The tokubetsu jounin sank down into his plush office chair, staring intently at the organized sheafs of paperwork laid out across the desk top. Perhaps, if he stared long and hard enough, they would simply disappear. Then he could go home. Natsukashi would have dinner ready… and she would listen to him as he mourned the good old days. She would even smile ruefully when he called himself an old man. Then maybe, just maybe, she would help prove him wrong…
He was only 36, after all.
The genin graduation forms he yet needed to sign reasserted themselves in his mind, and he sighed.
What was he doing here? He had become a sensei so he could interact with the children. Be there when they needed him. Teach them things that he believed with all of his heart that they needed to know, beyond just throwing shuriken and understanding basic chakra manipulation. How could he do that stuck behind this door?
Suddenly, he felt a stab of sympathy for the Hokage…
A shrill ring stabbed the morose silence of the director's office. Iruka swore his phone was trying to leap off the hook. That was likely just his own jump and his sudden hyper-awareness pulling tricks on his weary mind.
Sitting up and taking a slow, calming breath, the ex-sensei picked the phone off the base. He brushed the cord out of the way and made sure it wouldn't get in the way before he rested the handset against his ear. The darned phrase that the Council thought sounded so official jumped to the forefront of his mind, but he swallowed it down. He preferred to be a little more casual with anybody attempting to reach him.
"This is Iruka," he said amicably. A nagging part of him alerted him to the fact that he was just a hint too relieved for the distraction from his self-pity.
"Yo, Iruka-kun!" the Rokudaime himself greeted pleasantly. Though, Iruka thought he detected a hint of ruffle in the man's voice, which was usually so cool and maddeningly flippant.
"Oh, hello, Kakash-"
Iruka scarcely got the greeting out of his mouth before Kakashi interrupted him.
"Yeah, listen. Something's come up…"
Despite the hurry evident in the older man's voice, Iruka could sense a pawn-off coming a mile away, and his hint of relief instantly soured. He didn't need an extra load right now, friend though Kakashi Hatake was.
"Kakashi, I'm still at work. Is it an emergency?"
Iruka fully expected Kakashi to hum and hee-haw around, dodging the question and trying to sweet talk his way past Iruka's guard. He would likely use some sort of sob story that made far too much sense and tugged on Iruka's heart just enough that he would be helpless to refuse—the latter would likely happen, no matter what idiotic excuse the Hokage came up with to get out of work this time.
"Well… Not in the way that you're thinking, I suppose."
"What's that supposed-"
"Tsuki's in labor. I'm at the hospital now."
Iruka's eyes widened considerably, and he swallowed any words that had been attempting to leave his throat. His mouth opened, and then closed again. Then he remembered himself.
"What? I-I mean, that's great! How-"
"Thanks. But listen, that's not why I called. I need you to watch the twins for a while."
And there was the pawn-off. Iruka's enthusiasm dimmed, but the bite of irritation was soon drowned in a rush of guilt. He had no right to feel frustrated this time. This time, Kakashi actually had a legitimate reason. A very good legitimate reason.
"Naruto's watching Kori for now, but I don't want to put more on him than necessary, you know?"
Double-blow. Using both their friendship and Iruka's bond with Naruto against him. That's low, even for you, Hatake…
And yet, Iruka found himself responding, like somebody else had possessed his brain and made him speak.
"Of course, Kakashi. Whatever you need."
"Life-saver, Iruka. I owe you one."
Iruka resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He really needed to start a list for every time Kakashi said that phrase. That way, he could actually have proof of how much the ex-Copy Ninja owed him.
"No problem," Iruka said, regardless. "How's Tsuki doing?"
"Okay, last I saw her. We just came in about five minutes ago. Though, Sakura says that I should go in this time; apparently, they let you do that now… Hm? Oh. Yes. Gotta run. Don't worry; the twins are low-maintenance. Take them out to eat or something." With a click, the call ended, and the dial tone assaulted Iruka's eardrum.
"…Yeah. Good talk." Iruka, again resisting the urge to roll his eyes, set the phone back in the cradle, careful not to tangle the cord. Then he sat back with another sigh.
School had only just let out. The twins were likely still in the schoolyard, like most of the children were in the first half hour after classes ended. Unlike their father at their age, they actually gave a crap about making and keeping friendships. And the time right after school was usually spent relishing the temporary freedom with the rest of the students.
Iruka sat up again and reached for the phone, intent on patching through to the main office downstairs. If he wasn't too late, he could notify the secretary before she left, and let her know that Koinu and Saka Hatake were to stay on school grounds for the time being.
Then the door burst in, and a tiny blunette girl with mussed hair and crooked round glasses tumbled through the threshold. "Umino-hakase!"
Iruka paused in pursuit of the phone, taking in the girl's panicked entrance, and then withdrew his hand. Without thought, he rose from his seat and hurried around the desk, hands reaching to console the little one before he even reached her side.
"What is it, Ami?" he said, kneeling beside her. She was such a bitty thing, despite being 6, and her concern leaked out of her in waves of fizzling chakra. Something had her very upset.
She grabbed his hand in her two very small ones, and gave it a tug. "Koinu, hakase! Koinu fell into the well!"
Ah. One of his charges for the evening. Speak and he shall appear. He took after his father more than Iruka thought…
"The well?" Iruka frowned. "Show me. What well?"
The Fukai Well nestled deep beneath ancient sycamore boughs, hidden in the overgrowth of decades past, brush long since unkempt. Nobody knew why it was there, just outside of the Academy grounds. No ruined foundations or husks of long gone structures accompanied it. It was as if the well had simply been an afterthought to the landscape, present, functional, but completely unnecessary. Leftovers of some distant time when it was needed.
Iruka shook away the return of his melancholy musings from mere minutes before, and instead, focused his attention on the moss-clad ring of stones at his feet.
"Oh," he said, blinking slowly. "That well."
Metal Lee, clad in the same sort of eye-offending green jumpsuit as his father inflicted upon the world, folded his wiry arms over his chest. He spoke with as much derision as a 6-year-old could manage. "I do not know why the idiot jumped down. We were just looking."
"Yeah," agreed Boruto Uzumaki, kneeling at the well's edge—a little too close for Iruka's liking. "He just went like this," he imitated a sudden squaring of his shoulders and a wide-eyed gasp, "and then climbed in."
Saka Hatake, the boy in question's identical twin, nodded from where he sat a short distance to Boruto's left. His focus-less red eyes stared in Iruka's direction, but didn't look at him. "I think he's okay, though. His chakra's normal. He just can't get out…"
The ex-sensei trusted Saka's judgment. Between having known his brother even before their parents, and the mysterious advantages of the Karigan, the young Hatake had more right than any other to speak of his brother's well-being.
Iruka took a moment to gently guide the young Uzumaki away from the precarious stone ridge, before he peered down into the murky pit himself. He could hear water sloshing far below, and watched as what little sunlight that filtered through the trees glimmered off the caps of tiny waves. The ripples rushed to and from a small disturbance along one side of the concave wall, a disturbance that didn't reflect light like his surroundings.
"Koinu," Iruka called, careful to keep his voice free from concern that would trigger the already fraught little girl in their midst. "Are you all right?"
The sound of rippling water came first as an answer, and the lightless spot at the well's bottom shifted.
"It's too wet," said a voice identical to Saka's in tone. "My feet won't stick."
Not everyone could be their father—prodigy nin since he was 4 years old. At their age, Kakashi had already made chuunin. Granted, the Hatake children were all above their peer group's average skill level, but perhaps it was the lack of trauma and war that allowed them to excel at a more regulated pace. Normally a good thing, it did have it's drawbacks. Such as a pre-genin being fully capable of walking up a tree trunk, yet struggling to compensate for the combination of mossy water on old, eroded rock.
Iruka sighed. There was only one way this would end. Ami had searched the main office, and even some of the classrooms in her rush to find help. All the other sensei had gone home for the evening—something Iruka was realizing he should've done earlier, and perhaps avoided this whole mess.
But then, Koinu would've been stuck in this mud hole for who knows how long…
"Keep away from the edge, you four," he told the children around him, before bracing a hand on the well's edge. With a stifled grunt, he swung himself over into the mouth of the pit, and began a slow, steady decent into its depths. He focused his chakra into his hands and feet, and placed each with great care. Chakra could only do so much, after all, if you trusted a loose stone to be your foothold.
The odor of stagnant water and decaying foliage wafted up to greet him the closer he got to the bottom, and to Koinu. It was yet a long way down, but the smell was enough to tell Iruka that that boy would need a good, long bath once he came out. Then again, so would Iruka.
Wasn't this deathtrap supposed to be covered? Most of the Academy sensei knew of its existence. Supposedly, the well had been closed decades ago, after the first curious Academy student happened to fall in (Iruka himself was one of many who had done so). Perhaps there was a greater difference between 'closed' and 'buried' than he'd thought.
"Iruka-san!" Koinu said from below, much closer now. Iruka glanced down through the dark, and found he could actually make out the child's red eyes and long silver fringe amidst the shadows.
For a moment, the gratefulness at the lack of 'hakase' overpowered Iruka's quiet exasperation.
It lasted a matter of three seconds, before Iruka's feet plunged into frigid water. The sudden chill tore a startled gasp from his throat, while his mind berated that he should've been expecting it. But, now that he'd reached the bottom, Iruka released the wall and dropped the rest of the way into the water.
Big mistake.
He'd been expecting for his feet to find a floor somewhere beneath the murky liquid. No such luck. He caught sight of Koinu's mildly startled expression before black water swallowed him up, filling his nose and ears and momentarily blinding him.
With a single kick and a rather uncoordinated grasp at the nearest stretch of wall, the ex-sensei resurfaced feeling clumsy and stupid and freezing. Why had he done that? Why hadn't he simply gotten close enough to hoist Koinu out of the water and then hauled him up from there?
He spit out what little of the foul water that had seeped into his mouth, and then strained in the dark to see the boy he came to retrieve. Koinu treaded water across from him, a mere arm's length away thanks to the close quarters of the well's belly. His silver hair clung to his head, making him look like a drowned old cat. The boy's face, however, was remarkably calm, despite his lips being a pale shade of blue.
Hypothermia, Iruka's paternal instincts blared like an alarm in his mind. What was he doing, feeling so irritated at this turn of events, when he didn't even know how long this boy had been down here?
Iruka spared his left arm, while clinging to the wall with his right, and reached for Koinu through the leaf-bogged water. "Come on."
Without question, the child swam closer and let the man envelope him in his hold. Koinu's small arms, still thick with baby fat, looped around Iruka's neck. The boy's skin left an icy trail wherever it brushed, and Iruka's guilt swelled. He had no more time to waste.
The climb up was always harder than coming down. The only consolation was that Iruka now knew a decent path out, and kept to the same general area on the wall. More confident of where he placed his hands and feet, he managed to cut his time in half. Soon, he was clambering up and over the well's ledge, and tumbling into dry grass in a cold, soggy heap. Koinu yet clung to him, shivering, and if Iruka knew the boy at all, probably wouldn't let go until he was told to do so.
Iruka wasn't about to do that yet. Instead, he folded his arms around the little Hatake, intent on sharing as much of his body heat as he could until better means could be procured. Carefully, he rose to his feet, keeping Koinu steady in his grasp.
"Boruto, Metal, Ami," Iruka said, glancing at the bearer of each name as he said it, "all of you head home. It's past dinner time. Saka, you and Koinu are coming with me."
He trusted the other three to make it safely home. So, he forewent gathering up his hoard of paperwork for the evening (his 'homework' as it were) and simply went straight home, trailing mucky water and a blind boy behind him. Koinu didn't say a word, and Saka didn't seem to feel the need to break his brother's silence either. Iruka didn't mind.
Once at his doorstep, he disengaged his number of traps and locks and swung the door inward. At last, he set Koinu down and ushered both boys inside with the efficiency of an old mother hen.
Natsukashi, contrary to Iruka's earlier thoughts, did not greet them. She must have gone out.
As soon as the security was back in place and the weary three had removed their dirty sandals, Iruka checked Koinu for signs of hypothermia, to confirm or deny his initial fears. But whether due to the trek through the warm evening air, or being carried the whole way home, Koinu's pallor had returned to a semblance of normal, and the shivering had stopped. He was lucid, and answered all of Iruka's questions with the professionalism of a trained ninja.
Once he was certain it would cause no harm, Iruka guided Koinu to the washroom for a much needed warm bath. He made sure the boy had everything he needed, including an oversized robe and extra soap, and understood all he was to do ("Be sure to rinse your hair and your face and in your ears. You have filth everywhere." "Sure, Iruka-san.") before leaving him to it.
Iruka took a moment to change himself, into a simple yukata and slacks, to wait until the washroom was free again. Then he occupied Saka by including him in dinner preparations.
"Miso it is," the ex-sensei conceded after a short debate with the younger twin over what they would be having. He set about gathering the necessary ingredients from his numerous cupboards, while Saka sat on the island counter, absently swinging his feet.
"I like visiting you, Iruka-san," said the boy, a smile in his words that Iruka could sense without seeing. "But…"
Iruka paused, and glanced over his shoulder. Saka was watching him, as much as a blind boy who could only see chakra signatures could watch anyone.
"But?" Iruka prompted.
"Why are we here today?" Saka sounded lost somewhere between curiosity and outright worry, his fair brow furrowed ever so slightly.
Iruka had to resist the urge to croon over the little one's look of endearing concern. He hadn't the slightest idea what could be running through that young mind, but it was enough to make the usually cheery boy go quiet. Iruka personally found it adorable. Not that he'd ever say it.
"Don't worry," Iruka reassured, retrieving a jar of dashi from his spice cupboard. "Everything's fine. Your mother's in labor right now."
Saka tilted his head, his worry replaced with confusion. He opened his mouth to question, but Iruka beat him with the explanation.
"You'll have a little brother soon."
Understanding brightened Saka's face, followed suit by a beaming smile. "Oh! How soon will he get here?"
Iruka, masking his amusement with a very genuine smile, set a pot of water to boil on the stovetop. "It's hard to say. It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow. It could even be a couple of days."
Saka's enthusiasm dimmed. "Oh…"
Iruka's internal self turned to mush and apologized profusely, while his outer self simply chuckled. "Don't be so disappointed. These things take time, and they're anything but predictable." Then he frowned. "Hasn't your father explained any of this?"
"Yeah…" Saka ducked his head, and gave an overzealous shrug. "He said the same thing…"
Another laugh escaped Iruka, which he promptly stifled after a pointed look from his company; after that, he busied himself measuring out the appropriate amount of dashi into the roiling water. Saka, to his credit, said nothing more about it. It certainly was a change from the days when Naruto would come over for dinner.
That boy, with his boundless energy and flashy colors and booming voice, he had brought Iruka's apartment to life and then some. Though many other orphans and troubled children had come through this house since then, none had ever managed to match the exuberance that followed Naruto Uzumaki like a personal ray of sunshine. Things just weren't the same anymore…
Not to say that Iruka didn't appreciate a respect for silence. Something the Hatake boys had in excess, thanks to their… socially-challenged parents. Growing up in a house where peace and quiet was highly treasured made for well-behaved twins, apparently.
For the most part. The exception being days when one of them decided to fall down a well.
Said twin reemerged from his bath less than ten minutes later, when the soup was about half way finished. The bathrobe swallowed him up in heaps of wooly navy fabric, and Koinu held it tight around him, shuffling his feet to avoid tripping on the excessive hem.
Iruka laughed at the sight, and as he set the soup to simmer, gestured down the hallway. "There's extra clothes in the guest bedroom, a little more your size. Go ahead and find something there."
"Why do you have kids' clothes? You don't have kids."
Saka was merely curious, so he couldn't have known the stab of regret that stung like an old war wound in Iruka's chest at those words. To his credit, however, the ex-sensei managed not to react obviously.
"You're right; we don't," he said with easy pleasantness. "But Naruto used to spend a lot of time here. Other kids as well. I keep extra supplies around, just for circumstances such as these."
"Iruka-san," said Koinu, shuffling further into the kitchen after a brief glance down the hall. He had something clutched in the voluminous hem of the bathrobe sleeve, and held it up toward Iruka. "I found something in the well."
Iruka's eyebrows rose. In a blink, it seemed his shower would have to wait. "Found something?"
Koinu nodded. "That's why I went in."
Iruka held out his hand, and Koinu opened his small fingers to let a small, slick something fall into his palm. He gazed upon the unassuming little grey stone with surprise.
"It's filled with chakra." Koinu took an awkward step backward. "That's how I knew it was there."
That much was obvious. Iruka felt the cluster of energy swirling on his palm, and amazingly, it felt familiar. It resonated with his own, made his skin prickle. His brow furrowing, he turned the rock over in his fingers.
"It's under some kind of transformation…" He held up the middle and index fingers of his free hand. "Release!"
In a puff of smoke, the rock returned to its original form—an ominous green scroll, still sealed and marked with a stamp of the Konoha leaf crest. A mission objective.
Iruka's mouth went slack as it all came rushing back to him in a fragmented array of memories. Hurried footfalls, breath scorching in his throat, unnecessary paranoia, and then-
"This was mine," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "From my first intel-gathering mission as a chuunin."
Saka's eyes widened, while Koinu tilted his head ever so slightly. Both boys kept their intense red eyes fixated on Iruka as he spoke.
Meanwhile, the ex-sensei merely fingered the scroll, allowing the recollection to flow freely. "It was almost complete; I was safe inside Konoha's borders. Then the ground fell out from under me."
"You fell in the well!" Saka declared, leaning forward in his enthusiasm.
Iruka chuckled. "I did. By the time I managed to climb my way out, I was waterlogged and miserable, and I'd lost my objective, which I had disguised as a simple stone as a precaution. I caught a bad cold and failed my first big assignment all in one go."
Saka summed it up well. "That sucks."
That coaxed a laugh from Iruka's throat, and he offered the boys a grin. "Yeah, it did. But I got over it. I certainly never expected to find this again…"
"Now you can take it to Dad at the office." Koinu beamed as much as he ever did, which mean he gave a little closed-eyed smile that brightened his whole face. "No more unfinished assignments on your record."
That wasn't necessarily true. He had many other failed assignments in his ledger, but that took nothing away from the sentiment that Koinu expressed.
Then it hit him, hard enough to make his smile dim and his breath catch.
'No more unfinished assignments…'
Assignments…
He had an assignment now. An objective; one that, in a way, he had nearly lost. He had hidden it away for safekeeping, only to lose track of it with the passage of time. Then here it came back to him, in the palm of a child.
His smile returned full-force.
He was a sensei. That would never change. And that mission would never end, until Iruka had no choice but to give it up. That would be the day his last breath slipped from his lungs. Then they could pry his job from his cold, dead fingers.
But until then…
"That's right," Iruka said, ruffling Koinu's silver hair. "No more unfinished assignments."
Then the sensei in him reared its head, and he planted his hands on his hips and arched an eyebrow. "Now. I need to take a shower, and you need to go get dressed, young man."
Koinu and Saka both giggled, and the former gave a single, definitive nod.
"Hai, Iruka-sensei."