A/N: The fascinating characters of Naruto do not belong to me. Enjoy~ xD
Info:
Jutsu - Loosely translated to "technique" or "skill".
Genin - The lowest shinobi rank directly above academy students. Usually assigned to teams of three accompanied by a Jounin teacher. They usually carry out the lowest ranking missions, such as D-Rank and C-Rank missions.
Chuunin - The second shinobi rank after Genin. They usually carry out C-Rank and B-Rank missions. They are also the ones usually involved in the every day duties in the system, such as administrative tasks and teaching at the academy.
Tokubetsu Jounin - Shinobi who are below Jounin rank, but have specialized skills that are Jounin-ranked. As an example, Ibiki Morino is a Tokubetsu Jounin because of his Jounin-level skills in interrogation.
Jounin - The highest shinobi rank of the regular shinobi force after Chuunin. They usually carry out A-Rank and S-Rank missions as well as the occasional Unranked mission.
ANBU - An acronym that stands for "Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai" which can be translated into "Special Assassination and Tactical Squad". ANBU members are considered the elite of elite, and often wear an animal mask and a cloak to hide their identities. They perform high level missions, such as assassinations, torture and guarding the Hokage.
Hokage - The leader of Konoha Gakure also known as the Hidden Leaf Village.
Sandaime Hokage - Loosely translated to "the Third Hokage".
The Sannin of Konoha - The collective name of three renowned shinobi from Konoha: Tsunade, Jiraiya and Orochimaru.
Sharingan no Kakashi - Loosely translated to "Kakashi of the Sharingan". It is one of the nicknames given to Hatake Kakashi along with his other moniker, the Copy Ninja.
Kyuubi - A reference to the Nine-Tailed Fox.
Chapter One
Umino Iruka had a fearsome temper, and was infamous for losing said temper almost all the time; chewing shinobi out for their messy, illegible, incomplete, late, missing mission reports, regardless of rank and reputation. He had the backing and protection of the Sandaime Hokage, and although he was a Chuunin, he was not a person to be messed around with; the Genin feared him because he had been their terrifying academy teacher, and the Chuunin tip-toed around him because he was of equal rank, and frankly could be quite scary when they didn't have the protection of authority or status. Tokubetsu Jounin and Jounin weren't as obvious; after all, he was acutely aware of the chain of commands, and as an academy teacher who had to set a good example, he respected his superiors.
But, it didn't stop him from stamping a huge red "REJECT" on their mission reports should he deem them unworthy for Konoha's high filing standards, returning said report with an icy politeness and deceptive calmness, and even the most stubborn Jounin would tire of being forced to re-write their report for, what seemed like, the ten thousandth time.
Contrary to popular belief, Iruka had never actually turned said terrifying reputation on Hatake Kakashi before, despite the whispered rumours in the Konoha Gossip Vine, which had only been exacerbated by their direct and explosive confrontation during the Chuunin Exam nominations. In fact, prior to that moment, Iruka had never actually had much personal dealing with Kakashi. The latter's missions tended to run, more often than not, into the highly classified category, which meant that the mission reports Iruka did receive from him only contained the bare facts – name, code, mission rank, mission status – a statement that had a total of two words – "information classified" – and a reference code to the actual classified report that would be hand delivered to the Hokage personally by Kakashi himself.
But, just because he wasn't the man's friend, per say, it didn't mean that Iruka didn't notice the silver-haired shinobi. Although, it wasn't until the unexpected and very, very gentle nudge from Kakashi into the right direction in his moment of self-doubt that Iruka really began to take notice of the man behind the mysteries, the life behind the legend. Even so, Kakashi hadn't seemed real, and the strange warmth of the connection began to fade into a vague impression of a memory, especially when Iruka had had to recount tales of the infamous Copy Ninja to his questioning students, watching them as they role played Sharingan no Kakashi – along with figures, such as the Fourth Hokage, the infamous Sannin of Konoha and occasionally, the anonymous cool ANBU, complete with finger paints on their faces in a childish mimic of an ANBU mask – in their 'ninja games' during their classroom breaks, turning a living, breathing man into a figure that had been born out of myth, village lore and campfire stories.
After all, neither man had any reason to meet outside the Mission Room, and even then, the secrecy around a large majority of Kakashi's missions only perpetuated the tales that Iruka regaled his students with.
Still, taking notice hadn't really brought about a change in their relationship aside from Iruka's sense of awareness when it came to Kakashi; a sense of awareness that grew into a sense of curiosity when he had been told that Kakashi was to become Naruto's Jounin teacher. Curiosity became horror at Kakashi's student record, or the lack of it, but horror soon became resigned exasperation tinged with a little disbelief with every new complaint that Naruto ranted at him: from his sensei's chronic lateness to his porn reading habits. It was Naruto, after all, and he tended to get on a serious roll when he had his mind made up about something or someone. However, it was enough to really spur Iruka on into an attempt at becoming more familiar with the shinobi in question, even if he could not bring himself to actually strike up a more personal relationship with Kakashi; despite all his questionable flaws, Kakashi was still an elite shinobi and he was very intimidating.
Which was why Iruka fell back on to his most trusty method: mission reports.
Mission reports, in his humble opinion, tended to reveal a lot about the shinobi writing it. Consistently wrinkled reports – complete with deep crinkles that told of hastily smoothened out balls of crumpled paper – or reports that were littered with messy corrections and smudges told of a person with a careless or forgetful nature, or that said person simply couldn't be bothered with the tediousness of paperwork. Consistently neatly pressed reports – the paper so smooth that it looked no different from the empty report forms that were provided at the desk – or reports that had little-to-no technical or tactical detail told of a person who wasn't a mission veteran, and was, perhaps, more use to the secure comforts of the village than the unpredictable trepidations of the wide world. The nature of the report combined with Iruka's real life impression and knowledge of the person could craft an image that he was reasonably confident with.
Between his preparations and classes at the academy, his duties in the administration office and the occasional babysitting of orphan students, Iruka found the time to dig through the mountains of past mission reports, sneaking a couple home with every opportunity he got. All of them were written by the same person: one Hatake Kakashi.
Fortified with a pot of tea during the autumn season, a glass of cool juice during the summer heat, more tea during the spring season and mug of hot chocolate during the winter frost, Iruka read; learning of a Chuunin, whose large, blocky and messy handwriting, and academy-styled, question-to-answer and occasional narrative writing told of child thrown into a world of adults. Words flowed, and before his eyes, the handwriting became more fluid and certain, if a little stiff and militaristic – with the occasional smudge that suggested that not all messy or careless habits had yet been outgrown – and the content of the reports became more in-depth and knowledgeable, inclusive of the occasional area map – painstakingly traced from an actual map with lines that lightened and deepened, and even the occasional blot of ink that soaked into the paper where the artist had lingered a little too long – or tactical illustration – that, during its early stages, resembled a child's doodle though they did eventually improve to look more like the drawings of an actual strategist; the epitome of an exemplary mission report, even if they were still rough around the edges, as the child grew into a soldier.
The suspicious prickle in his eyes had nothing to do with him accidentally burning his tongue from his hot chocolate or tea, and neither did the heaviness that seemed to settle in his stomach, cold and dark when it should've been warm and comfortable. He could remember his nightmares and near crippling terror as Naruto came closer and closer to graduation, his imagination supplying him with all the dangers that could harm the boy, the trials that could destroy him, the experiences that could break that bright spirit and snuff out the light in those brilliant blue eyes. Naruto was, after all, just a child.
Just as Kakashi had been. He had been seven years old, barely a year after he had been promoted to Chuunin, and he had already killed his first man; self-defense, the report had stated. It was a small comfort that it would be at least three more years before Kakashi would be ordered to kill a target in a planned assassination; taking a life knowingly and purposefully. At eight, he had experienced loss; his father, the great White Fang, but Iruka couldn't help the small sigh of relief that Kakashi would be 13 years old before he experienced loss on the battlefield in a harsh environment far away from the security of familiar home grounds.
Still, that was too young; Kakashi had been too young. No longer innocent, but still very much a child.
Then came, what Iruka coined as, the "missing years". After a couple of scattered reports – of both team and solo missions – during and after the Kyuubi attack, there was a mysterious blank that lasted roughly six to seven years. Aside from the occasional reference, Kakashi seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth where missions were concerned.
Later, he would learn that these were Kakashi's most active years, though he had operated under a very different identity.
Kakashi's first report after the "missing years" – at least, the first report that had more than the words "information classified" – was vastly different from the reports written by the awkward not-child soldier. His writing was infinitely neater, more precise and stunningly elegant, beautiful even; the type of script that spoke of someone who knew all the ins-and-outs of sealing and text-based jutsu. However, where the writing bordered on artistic and flawless, the actual condition of the report tended to vary: from reports that were stiffer than the paper was meant to be, and splotchy with the effects of an unidentified liquid – suggesting that the report had been soaked in rain, mud or blood, or all three – to reports that were relatively unharmed, except for a slight crumpling or the marks of folds. Regardless of the condition, these were clearly reports written by a shinobi who understood the importance of mission reports, especially for the purpose of information gathering and strategy planning that could, and would, affect the future safety of other shinobi. The content was crisp and clear, detailed and textured yet clearly defined with liberal use of tactical terms, field codes and mission short-hand; the soldier had become a well-versed war veteran, an experienced strategist, and an undeniable team leader and commander, detached and cynical.
The academy instructor forced himself to stop, breathing through his nose to control his sudden nausea and roiling stomach, his throat constricting and clamping up, at the graphic yet clinical and very necessary detailing of injuries, attacks, killings and other gruesome experiences that were expected of high ranked missions; they disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Iruka struggled to reconcile the image that the reports had constructed – every inch a ruthless and efficient weapon of Konoha – with the impression of the laid-back, unassuming yet intimidating Jounin that he had crossed paths with on occasion.
He thought these reports were the worst, but he soon learnt that these were nothing compared to those that were "missing".
Therefore, Iruka was utterly relieved when these reports tapered away to be replaced by reports of more familiar content; a more official account of the stories that Naruto told of his missions with Team Seven. The Chuunin couldn't help his chuckles as Kakashi's thorough and meticulous reports became shorter and briefer, bordering on laziness – even his graceful penmanship had degenerated into a lazy scrawl that hinted at elegance rather than boasted of it – in the details – after all, there were only so many ways you could describe the successful capture of the target also known as the infamous spitfire called Tora – but there were still off-hand comments that piqued Iruka's curiosity about Team Seven's dynamics and Naruto's performance during missions.
It was during one such reading session that Iruka had received yet another Team Seven mission report from Kakashi, and in a spur of the moment, a sudden surge of courage, he blurted out, 'How was the mission? I hope Naruto did okay.' Kakashi had just looked at him then, his eye piercing and intense, but his answer nothing more than a nod and a simple, 'He was fine.' Quashing the slight annoyance at Kakashi's seemingly lack of interest and initiative, despite Iruka's politeness and initiative, Iruka had resigned himself to simply relying on Naruto's stories – which had become rare and far in-between now that the boy was busy with missions and training.
Still, the exchange was soon forgotten as work piled up and Iruka was buried in his responsibilities and duties. Until Team Seven had a new mission, and Iruka had decided to take a peek at the mission report that had been, coincidentally, given to him to file – though, he really should've known that with Kakashi, there was no such thing as coincidences. The report was longer than usual, but at a brief glance, it seemed like any normal report that Kakashi submitted on behalf of Team Seven. However, Iruka had been reading Kakashi's reports for the past few months, and the loosely narrative writing style and unnecessary details stuck out like a sore thumb. As Iruka set it aside in hopes of pondering that little curiosity, a small scrap of paper had fallen out from the two-page report. Written on it was a list of words, seemingly unrelated and irrelevant. But, something about them caught Iruka's attention; they were strangely familiar, like a little piece of memory lodged frustratingly just out of his each at the back of his mind. It would take him a few days before he realized that the words were keywords that acted as a decoder. It would take him a few heartbeats – and a quick glance over at the report – before he realized what the decoder was for.
The code was easy enough – mid-Chuunin level – and after an hour of diligent work, Iruka had transcribed a report that followed the framework of Kakashi's report, but was entirely different. The unnecessary details became the building blocks cemented together by the narrative structure. Between the lines, underneath the underneath, Kakashi had included a light-hearted commentary about Naruto's mischievous antics, Sasuke's awkward skillfulness and Sakura's bright intelligence. He described the utter ridiculousness of their mission – Who knew Konoha had that many clogged drains that were in such need of cleaning? – and, in a uniquely entertaining way, wrote of Team Seven's dedication and perseverance through even the darkest minutes – it had literally been pitch black in some of the drains – and their bravery in the face of fierce opposition – because Sakura's shriek and Naruto's resulting scream as they accidentally walked into a gigantic spider web could surely be heard from the other end of the village. Sasuke had only just escaped that humiliation because he had fallen, and his own yell had been drowned by the knee-deep mud that the three of them had been wading through.
The utter sarcasm, complete with an imaginary deadpan delivery and expressive inflection, was something Iruka could match to Kakashi's voice, and he spent the next hour or so chuckling at Team Seven's misadventures.
Ever since then, every new report came with a decoder, and Iruka soon looked forward to his new routine of unraveling the stories that Kakashi weaved with the touch of a true master storyteller. It was a game between them, interesting and fun, and though their actual face-to-face interactions hadn't changed, Iruka's perception of Kakashi most definitely had.
These reports were his favourites, not only because they gave him a glimpse into Naruto's life, but also because they had given him a glimpse into Kakashi's mind; someone who had a sarcastic sense of humour, bordering on caustic, who was pragmatic and actually quite sensible, who could be mischievous and playful, who delighted in playing mind games and watching people dance to his tune, and who, despite his own protests, was someone who cared deeply for his charges.
Iruka couldn't help but wonder if you could know a person, like a person, when you barely said two words to their face.
Not even Team Seven's ill-fated C-Rank mission stopped these exchanges – though that particular mission report was void of their usual playfulness and instead was strongly reminiscent of Kakashi's report prior to Team Seven; not quite as macabre but every bit as serious and professional, detailed and informative, penmanship elegant and beautiful, and Iruka found himself preferring Kakashi's Team Seven reports despite their flaws – and when they did stop, it had been Iruka's fault. Iruka had just swapped his usual cup of tea for a bottle of sake, celebrating the fact that he had moved beyond high-Chuunin level, just cracking into low-Jounin level decoding, when their game ended in a rather abrupt manner.
It was their harsh confrontation during the nominations for the Chuunin exam.
Their relationship – What relationship? – had completely fallen through. Both men were stubborn and strong-willed, the clash of pride a huge blow to the unspoken amicability between them. The exams meant that Team Seven was busy with preparations; there were no mission reports to be handed in or read.
Later, when Iruka's thoughts turned back to that moment, he realized that, despite his own anger at Kakashi, and the raging urge to yell at the man, expounding on how wrong Kakashi was as opposed to how right Iruka had been, the academy teacher would admit that he missed their little decoding game.
But, all thoughts of the silver-haired man soon fled as the Chuunin exams brought about a destruction that nearly crippled Konoha, and it would be days, weeks, even a month or two, before Iruka would find himself turning back to his new hobby.