Title: Cleaning Day
Claimer/Author: This story is written by and belongs to Emmy Kay.
Summary: He is not at his best today. Iruka, Kakashi.
Disclaimer: Naruto and all affiliated characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi. This story is written without permission and for personal/fan/nonprofit entertainment purposes only.
Iruka Umino is not fond of cleaning. He is, however, very fond of results. And the result he is looking for is a tidy apartment. So he cleans.
Maybe it's the weather causing his self-imposed sentence. There is an odd heaviness to the air, something peculiarly nasty about the humidity. And through it all, sweat dripping off his forehead, off the end of his nose and chin, he cleans.
It is his fault, Iruka knows, for not attending to the mess before the dust bunnies became large enough to host chakra. He has been busy; there were midterms to give and then grade - written and practical - plus extra shifts at the missions desk. He's barely had time to take care of his own personal hygiene, never mind what his home looks like.
Still, that's not an excuse to live like, well, Naruto. At the thought of his former student's disgusting living quarters, he gets a renewed burst of inspiration.
Iruka is not a quiet housekeeper. He grunts as he reaches into awkward corners with a rag to get the last spiderweb, he groans as he bends down with a dust pan, he mutters darkly as he realizes he still needs to dust every single book in his apartment. He has many, many, many books. A ridiculous number of books. Gods, what is he doing with so many books?
The only upside is that he doesn't have a very big place, so the task will soon be over. He sighs. Soon.
He looks inside his miniscule broom closet. The mop head is dingy grey, falling apart, strands of cotton hanging limply off to the side. He glowers at it, as if the very fact of the mop's sad condition will derail all of his efforts up to this point.
The doorbell rings.
Iruka grimaces. Really? He is in no mood for guests. If he ignores them, maybe they will go away. He turns to the closet again, considering whether or not he needs to purchase a new mop.
The doorbell rings again.
He is not listening. Iruka thinks that the current mop will have to do. He grabs it, a bit resentfully.
The bell continues to ring without stopping, as if someone is leaning against it.
They are not going away.
Iruka opens the door to find Kakashi, freshly showered, neatly dressed, shoulder casually propped up against the frame, one hand held up in greeting. "Yo. You busy?"
Iruka looks at Kakashi in much same the way he regarded the mop minutes previous. "Yes," Iruka says shortly.
"Cleaning?"
"Yes," his tone indicating: go away. "I've still got to do the floors."
Kakashi peeks around Iruka's visibly irritated form. Iruka follows his glance into the room where cushions, rugs, and small furniture are piled higgledy-piggledy on top of other, larger pieces of furniture. The scent of pine freshness wafts into the hallway.
"Looks nice. Kirei," Kakashi drawls.
"Yes," snaps Iruka, reddening dangerously. "It should. I've been cleaning for hours!"
"No," Kakashi says, peering directly into Iruka's face, his own dark eye incongruously soft in his normally detached, cool expression. "Kirei."
A/N -
kirei = Japanese for both 'clean/tidy' and 'beautiful/pretty'.
Just a piece of silliness. Hope you enjoyed.