The boy slowly pushed open the door of the shop and slipped through. Once in, he looked around hungrily. The warmly lit space was filled with shelves and every shelf was filled with books. He sighed with contentment as he stared at all the possibilities. Wandering through the shelves, he trailed his hand lightly over the bindings, lovingly caressing the bound stories.
He was thin and young, only in his early teens, but he had just made jounin and was eager to begin spending some of his new pay on books. From an early age he had loved to read. Since he'd been orphaned, he spent a lot of time alone. Reading helped stave off the loneliness and gave him something to do. He'd never been good at boredom.
As the boy walked through the bookstore, light gleamed on his pale skin and hair. He wandered deeper into the store, passing a small reading area with comfortable chairs. In a back corner several shelves were lined with books with garish orange covers. They caught the boy's eye and drew him in. He walked closer and picked one up.
Almost immediately after opening it, he dropped it as if it had burned his fingers. His face flushed bright red over the top of the dark mask he wore. The pictures in the book were, well, very interesting to a teenage boy who was just beginning to think of fun new uses for previously underutilized body parts. Slowly, his hands shaking, he bent and picked the book back up. Opening it to the middle, he was soon staring raptly at the pages, his ears glowing crimson. His concentration was so fixed on the pages that he didn't hear the soft footfall behind him.
"Need any help finding anything?" a voice said and the boy jumped, dropping the book again.
The man bent forward and picked up the book, turning it over to see the cover. Burning with shame at being caught reading such a thing, the boy began to stammer an apology. The man didn't seem to be listening, however. He was smiling down at the book in his hand. "Ah, yes, volume 15. That's a good one, but if you're going to do the thing right, you should really start with volume one. It's still my favorite." Reaching over, he plucked a book off the shelf and handed it to the boy. As the boy took it from him, he noticed that the man was missing the little finger and part of the ring finger on his left hand. A golden wedding band gleamed at the base of the stump.
The man was tall and thin, with white hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. A scruffy gray goatee covered his chin and an eye patch hid his left eye. When he shifted position slightly, the boy heard a strange sound. Looking down at the man's feet, he realized that the left one was artificial. The man's eyes followed the boy's down and he pulled up the edge of his pants to show off the prosthesis.
"It's a beauty, isn't it? Had it made special." He smiled fondly down at his artificial leg.
The boy stared back up at the man. "Were you a ninja?"
The man turned his smile on the boy. "Yep." He tapped the hitai-ate on the boy's forehead. "I see you are as well."
"Yes," the boy said proudly. "I just made jounin!"
"Really?" the man drawled, raising his eyebrows. "Well, then, I say that calls for something special." He reached back over to the bookshelf and removed another book. Pressing it into the boy's hands, he said, "Here you go. Icha Icha volumes one and two—on the house."
"Oh, I couldn't," the boy said, stunned.
The man chuckled as he watched the boy protest, but at the same time clutch the precious books tightly to his chest. "No, I insist. My way of supporting the honored ninja of Konoha. Thank you for the work you do." He bowed slightly.
"Oh, no, thank you! Thank you so much!" the boy said as he turned and left the store.
"Come back and visit us again!" the man called after him.
"I will, ojiisan, I promise!" The boy waved over his shoulder, so he didn't see the scandalized look that crossed the man's face.
"Ojiisan! I'm only 45!" The man slumped down in a chair by the cash register and hung his head. At the sound of a warm chuckle from the room behind him, he looked up and glared over his shoulder. "It's not funny! He called me grandfather!"
A tall, muscular man walked out of the office. His gleaming brown hair, slightly streaked with white, was pulled back in pony tail at the nape of his neck. The ends of it fell to his waist. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his tan nose, just above a long scar which cut horizontally across his face. He walked over and laid a hand comfortingly on the thin shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Kakashi, I shouldn't laugh at you." A smirk began to stretch across his face. "I should really respect the elderly." Iruka broke off, laughing, and had to dance backward to dodge a swipe aimed at his head.
Grabbing the hand that was trying to smack him, he wrapped the arm around his waist and stepped in between Kakashi's legs, hugging himself to his lover. The white-haired man sighed and rested his head on Iruka's chest. His left hand snaked downward and he pinched Iruka on the butt, causing him to jump and start laughing again.
"Quit that! I'm heading into work, so I can't start anything right now," Iruka said with a mock-stern glare at Kakashi.
"Tonight, then?" Kakashi purred.
Iruka nodded and leaned down to kiss the smiling lips.
When they broke apart, Kakashi pushed Iruka back slightly and ran an appraising eye over him. The chuunin was dressed for dusty work, wearing an old uniform that had seen better days around the knees. "Finishing up final details before tomorrow?" Kakashi guessed.
"Yep, there are two new teachers who need last minute help finishing up their classrooms. Probably they're just nervous about tomorrow. I thought I'd help them out, see if I can talk the nervousness out of them."
Kakashi smiled proudly. "My Iruka-sama, principal of the Academy! Are you excited?"
Iruka blushed slightly. "I am, but I'm a little worried myself. I hope I'm up for the job."
"You'll do fine. You're the best teacher the Academy has ever had and you'll be the best principal, too. I know it."
"Thank you. It means a lot that you're proud of me."
Kakashi hugged Iruka tightly. "I've always been proud of you. Don't you forget that," he mumbled into the tan chest.
Iruka nodded numbly, a lump appearing in his throat. He wondered suddenly if Kakashi realized what day it was. As he held the wiry body of the man he loved, he felt the mutilated fingers of Kakashi's left hand rubbing over Mizuki's scar on his back. It had started aching as he had gotten older, but they had found that Kakashi could usually get the muscles to unknot with a little pressure.
They stood for a long time, enjoying the quiet morning time before the large rush of customers that usually began at mid-day. Suddenly Kakashi sat up straight and said, "Oh! I almost forgot! I have a present for you." Grinning over Iruka's protests, he wandered off to the back of the store, heading for the stairs and the attic storeroom.
Iruka watched him walk off, a slight limp the only clue to his injury. Five years ago today…