Quickly inspired by Yuri Hyuga's fox mask in Shadow Hearts, which is of course exactly the same as the ANBU mask, but mixing some scenes together produces subconsciously...THIS. omg father-complex Yuri/Kakashi crossover fight scene? anyone? anyone? bueller?

actually after I've written it now, this isn't even the fic I sat down to write. It's based on the scene in SH where Yuri is digging forever because he hates himself.

(this fic has nothing to do with what I just said)
Once again it's general, safe, because I'm too chicken to write porn.

Iruka had neglected one tiny responsibility. A life so small it was barely worth noticing. Kakashi noticed it, because he tended to observe the tiniest detail about everyone and their environment. Secretly, he had always made a note to let the whole world pass through his Sharingan, even if only for a second. So when Iruka's only plant slowly withered from neglect and no sunshine, Kakashi noticed, while Iruka did not. It was not the chuunin's fault, his emotions were currently as frazzled as his barely-held-up hair. It happened every year apparently, and was so dreaded amongst Iruka's peers that they called it "Hell Week". Kakashi learned this over a sobering cup of black tea one morning.

"It's Hell. A week of Hell. Trying to get every parent to come in, no matter what, for a specific half hour and ONLY a half hour. And not yell at me. Not ask why their precious doesn't have perfect shuriken throwing accuracy yet. Why they still like to play in mud and don't care about the perfect serenity of a chrysanthemum. aauugh..." Iruka's eyes squinted shut as he tried to block out the memories of last year. It didn't matter how many times he explained the word "curriculum" to certain parents, they always thought they should "let sensei know" what their princess/genius ought to be learning.

"Those kids are lucky to play in mud."

Iruka wrinkled his nose. "You're not to one who has to clean them up!"

A rare smile crossed Kakashi's face. He drank a sip of tea. Still too hot. Iruka sighed, and stood from the table. He picking up the thick, green Konoha vest from the floor and slipped it on over his black shirt.

"Three more parents this morning. I know at least one of them likes to talk on and on about his son. At least I had the foresight to schedule him last. I'll see you tonight?" Iruka looked over his shoulder at Kakashi, hopefully.

"You never know." That was the truth, Kakashi's comings and goings were are as unpredictable as ever. The man simply never made plans. He had found out the hard way that a ruined plan dangerously addles the mind. Iruka had not been a plan. Kakashi liked it that way, too.

The younger man left for his day, and Kakashi was left to his. He sat back and watched the puffs of steam rise off his tea. The silent moment floated past the jounin. Alright, that's enough quiet contemplation for one day, he thought.

The chair scrapped against the floor as he rose. He strode across the living room and picked up one solitary, withering plant. It was still alive, it just needed some attention. It had been left in the dark for too long. Someone thought this type of plant needed the shade, the shadows. In truth, it sought the sun like anyone else.

The sight of a famous ninja jumping across the back-alley-roofs of Konoha while carrying a potted plant was slightly strange, but hey, at least it wasn't porn this time. Mrs. Tsuhi still told the tale of finding Icha Icha Paradise under her young son's bed. After confronting him in an embarassed fury, he had retorted "Hatake Kakashi-san reads it!" The next time she spotted the irresponsible adult, boy did the man ever get an earful. If she had a frying pan, she probably would have hit Kakashi with it. Onlookers gawked in horrorified shock. What would he DO?
Kakashi had smiled. Well, you could only really tell he was smiling because of that one eye closed. No, I didn't hear what he said either. Did anyone hear it? Mrs. Tsuhi sure was embarrassed though! Bright as a tomato! Why is he carrying a plant?

Kakashi eventually found what he was looking for. A gardening shed. He broke the simple lock (more to prevent mischief than thieves) and removed a long-handled hoe. He'd return it once he was done.

The sun rose lazily over Konoha. It was very early, the workers who baked the bread and sold the everyday necessities of life were just beginning to open their doors. Kakashi faced the sun and let it's weakened light wash over him. He came here often. The black monument that bore the names of almost all his loved ones was as familiar as the sun itself. It could be used as a sundial, in fact. Kakashi thought of it more in terms of years rather than hours. How many times would be watch the black line swirl from one direction to another? How long before his own name kept time with the sun?

He turned towards the circular line of trees, just where the sun would momentarily hit to herald the first hour of morning. He swung the hoe. It plunged greedily into the dirt. He remembered the first time he felt like "a man". It was too young. He swung the hoe again. More dirt. They were all too young. That's how it was, that's how it had to be. The hoe was lifted, it fell. The games they played, like hide and seek, cops and robbers, would they be so fun when they grew up? When you died if someone knew where you were? He raised his arm again.

"I think that's deep enough, Kakashi-san."

He turned around, though he already knew who it was. "Shouldn't you be somewhere?"

Iruka shrugged. "One of the parents cancelled. You never know." Iruka walked towards Kakashi, but took a moment of stillness in front of the monument. He might not have thought about his own death as often as Kakashi, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of it.

Iruka felt Kakashi wrap his arms around his waist from behind. Even fully clothed, their bodies relaxed into perfect comfort. A shadow darkened slowly on the ground as they stood together, keeping time.

Years later, countless mornings after, the sun still lovingly embraced a plant that had sought to escape the shadows.