Nut Kin
Three weeks and they still weren't talking to each other. Every morning it was the same story; they arrived as the sun came up, spent twenty minutes standing next to the tree, staring at the stone, and then left. Every morning, both of them were in the same place at the same time and yet still neither would apologise.
Pakkun grumbled a frustrated little growl and dug his claws into the branch, scrabbling to peer down at his recalcitrant boss and his equally obstinate mate. There they were, shoulders almost touching and yet they couldn't be further from each other if they tried. Their body language said it all, loud and clear. They were all but slinking around each other. It was pathetic.
And the most annoying part about it all was that Pakkun didn't even know why!
It was probably Kakashi's fault. When they fought, and like a lot of human couples they often seemed to be arguing about something, it was always down to Kakashi.
A familiar high-pitched voice started up again from the other side of the tree. "Three-a, four-a, five-a, six! Six. Six-sixsixsixsix!" it sang, volume and note rising until it ended on a loud whistle of delight.
Pakkun hid his face in his paws. That was the other thing. If the boss and his mate didn't sort out their differences soon, Pakkun was going to go mad. As a ninken, he had a high tolerance for other summons. He lived in Konohagakure, you either tolerated diverse species or you sank without trace, but even he had his limits. And he'd met them in Kinomi, Iruka-sensei's new squirrel summon.
And just thinking those two words together made his brain hurt. A squirrel summon. What sort of idiot made a contract with squirrels? Dogs, obviously were by far the superior choice. But if one couldn't find a suitable ninken, then there were other options. Snakes, if that was what you wanted. Slugs for healing, birds for quick communication. Even toads he could understand. Sure they were mouthy, opinionated little squirts, but at least they had Gamabunta on their side. What did squirrels have to recommend them?
"One-a, two-a, three-a-"
Except an obsession with nuts. And counting them.
"Will you be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate!" Pakkun snarled, grateful that Iruka and the boss would hear only animal noises and not human speech if they bothered to listen.
Below, Iruka shifted, angling his body towards Kakashi just the smallest amount, and for a brief, wondrous moment, Pakkun thought he was going to cave and say something. Of course that was when Kakashi pushed off the tree and stalked away without so much as a backward glance.
Pakkun watched Iruka as he in turn stared after Kakashi's retreating back with an expression that reminded Pakkun of Bull at the butchers when there were sausages involved, though with less drool. Kind of hungry, but guilty and hopeful all at the same time.
Huh, maybe he'd been wrong about it being the boss's fault this time.
More importantly, looking at the way Iruka-sensei was almost leaning after Kakashi, at the droop in his shoulders and the single small step he'd taken to follow him, Pakkun was absolutely convinced he was right about Iruka having been about to speak. Which meant an apology was just a matter of time.
Except they didn't have time. Tomorrow morning, at dawn, Kakashi was off on a mission. Pakkun knew that because he'd been Kakashi's first port of call after the Hokage's briefing, because this mission had personal written all over it. A old adversary had recently gone missing from Cloud. In the past twenty four hours word had filtered through that he'd been spotted on the border and that he was gunning for the Copy Nin. Tsunade had sent out a couple of squads of Anbu, but she'd told Kakashi he needed to handle it himself, since he was the one who'd made an enemy of this guy to start with.
Which was going to leave Pakkun doing what he'd been doing since this farce began - watching Iruka for Kakashi since the boss was a lily-livered coward who couldn't just suck it up and apologise, even when he was about to ship out on a mission. And while historically Pakkun had never minded staying with Iruka, since he gave really good belly rubs and always had a biscuit or two in his pocket, these days it came with its own baggage.
High-pitched, squeaky, annoying baggage that should be sent back to whatever nut obsessed world it came from.
"One-a, two-a, three-a, four-argh! Get off-get off-get off-off-off offoffoff!"
Pakkun glared down at the furry squeak beneath his paws and reminded himself that he was a dog, not a cat, and a ninken to boot, and thus nibbling on another ninja's summon would be the height of bad manners. Instead he poked his face closer than was probably wise, given those snapping incisors, and growled, "Shut up or I'll bite your tail off."
Small black eyes widened, a tiny nose twitched, and then Kinomi folded her front legs and glared at him with an expression that was horribly reminiscent of her master. "Smelly breath! You bite me and them two ain't never gonna speak to each other again."
And Pakkun did not want that. Not even the slightest bit.
With an annoyed grunt, he let the tree rat go and sat back as she popped to her feet, shook out her reddish grey fur, and started checking her small pile of nuts. A moment later she turned to glare at him once again, a large hazelnut clasped tight to her chest. "So what we doing?" she demanded in her fast, high-pitched voice. "We gonna fight like them or we gonna fix 'em? Iruka-dono is bad-sad-mad without his Droopy."
Oh yeah, that was the other thing. Kinomi was not only squeaky and nut obsessed, she was also rude.
"I have no idea," Pakkun replied, deciding to ignore the nickname she'd given the boss in favour of maybe getting something done. Because Kinomi was right. Dogs and squirrels normally wouldn't work together, but right now they didn't have much choice. The situation was getting desperate. Pakkun had tried his usual strategies - chewing up Iruka's sandals and digging a hole in the middle of Kakashi's bed, and even after several attempts, neither had worked. He'd even tried the almost unheard of method in the ninja world of asking straight out what had happened, which Iruka had refused to answer. And now he was out of ideas and rapidly running out of patience. He wanted his life back. The one that included the boss and Iruka-sensei being together, and him and the tree rat being allowed to go home.
Lying down and tucking his paws under his chin, he continued, "It'd be easy if they were dogs, they'd just fight till they were friends again, but I don't think it works that way with humans."
"Hmm," Kinomi hummed, turning the nut over and over in her forepaws as though examining it for cracks. "Squirrels is the same. Run and shout and scratch and bite and then…" She looked up, the tufts on her ears flicking back and forth excitedly. "Fun times!"
Pakkun snorted in amusement. "Even if they did fight, it wouldn't help. One of them would just leave before they got it sorted." If they could think of a way of keeping Iruka and Kakashi together for long enough though, maybe that would work. Like locking them in a room. Except - ninja! A normal room with a normal lock wouldn't stop either of them for long.
"Easy!" Kinomi shrilled, "Trip, trap, then drop. Deep and down beneath, locked up fast. Simple as tasty berry pie!" She carefully placed the hazelnut on top of the pile, and chittered angrily when it rolled straight off again onto the branch.
After three weeks Pakkun was starting to get a vague grasp of 'squirrel'. He reran the words through his own internal squirrel filter, and said, "Trap them underground?" He thought about it. In theory it would be possible. He could do earth jutsu and so creating some kind of underground chamber to trap them in would work. Except again - ninja! They'd get out pretty quickly even if Pakkun got the rest of the ninken to help. He pointed out the problem to Kinomi.
"Pfah! I tell, I tell, I tell you how to do it!" she cried, bouncing on the spot with such enthusiasm that the miniature Konoha headband she wore slipped down over her eyes. She froze for a second, perched there in apparent confusion, before daintily lifting one corner and peering at Pakkun. "Oh! Not night?" she asked cautiously.
"Not night," Pakkun reassured her, wondering for the thousandth time why Iruka had chosen the squirrels. In general he was such a sensible human, intelligent and only prone to occasional fits of temper, so why would he select the flightiest, most scatter-brained of possible summons?
"Hunt and find-ing, chak-ra bind-ing, stick 'em in a hole with wire wind-ing!"
"Trap them in chakra-wire first?" Pakkun hazarded, thinking that that might actually work, and then stared balefully at his stubby useless paws. There were many times in his life when he'd regretted things about his physique. Mostly he'd have liked to be larger, so he could fight with the others. Very occasionally he'd wished for opposable thumbs, but that had normally involved cans of quality stewing steak, not the desire to build traps. That was for the boss to do, except Kakashi would want to know why Pakkun wanted one, and telling him that would defeat the purpose of building one to start with. "Not happening, squirt," Pakkun sighed. "I'd love to, but these paws just aren't up to the task."
Kinomi leapt high into the air, tail waving like a sail behind her, and landed on Pakkun's head. Ignoring his yelp of shocked surprise, she grabbed a ear with each paw and cackled, "Hah! That's why you has squirrels, silly pooh!"
Oblivious to the drama playing out high above him, Iruka let out a long heavy sigh and trudged away to get ready for work. Tomorrow. He would definitely apologise to Kakashi tomorrow.
Pakkun was finally beginning to understand the appeal of squirrel summons. With one fine strand of chakra-wire in her mouth, and another in each front paw, Kinomi could weave the kind of complex web that would put a spider to shame, and so fine that you'd never see it unless you were looking.
"Chestnut, chestnut, walnut tree, the more you grow the higher I be!" she sang as she bounced from branch to branch like a furry ping-pong ball, tucking and winding and looping as she went. Behind her stretched a gossamer sheet that billowed in the breeze like fine silk, almost invisible in the late afternoon light.
It wasn't hard to imagine the same thing being created on a mission, and primed with seals to conceal explosives or poisons rather than the mild chakra suppressing ones they'd attached for this trap. And Kinomi was so small that most ninja would mistake her for a passing bit of wildlife if they didn't have good sensory abilities. She'd make a good team-mate if only she wasn't so damned annoying.
Pakkun had spent the day constructing the underground chamber they were dropping the trap into once Kakashi and Iruka were tangled in it. After discussing it with Ūhei, who was good at making sure these sorts of things were safe, they'd come far enough out of Konoha so no kids could get caught by accident. And then Pakkun had dug a hole big enough that there'd be air for a good couple of hours of shouting, lined it with a layer of mulch to make the boss's landing softer, and chewed off all the tree roots to ensure no awkward hang-ups on the way down. Once he was happy with the chamber, he'd allowed the earth to cover it again and added another cleverly layered jutsu over the top to prevent anyone noticing it.
He gave it a final sniff, pushed a small pile of dirt an inch to the right just because, and then frowned up at the ominously silent branches. Kinomi had stopped again. Pakkun pottered over to the base of the tree she was currently perched in and glared up through the leaves. Yep, just like he'd thought, she'd found another ripe cherry.
"Hurry up!" he shouted. "School finished an hour ago and they actually need to be here before we can set the trap off."
Kinomi peered over the edge of the branch, her cheeks bulging, her eyes dancing with mirth. The next second a cherry stone smacked Pakkun right in the nose. He sneezed hard, lost his footing, sat down with undignified thump and then had to put up with her chortling laughter as she started weaving again.
"Go play fetch, Pakkun-pooh," she called. "Nest be finished soon-soon-soon!"
"Are you sure, because I don't want to get back here -" Pakkun began, only to be cut off mid-rant by a horrible piercing scream and the sudden flare of unfamiliar chakra. "Kinomi!" he yelled, leaping up the trunk as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Halfway there, the branches to his left suddenly parted and someone dove towards him, massive hands grasping and almost catching his tail. Pakkun yelped, tucked it beneath him and body-flickered to a nearby tree. The missing-nin, a huge guy with a shock of bright red hair and wearing a defaced Kumo headband, followed, bellowing in a deep voice about capturing his prize and showing that Copy-Nin bastard just how it felt to lose his nearest and dearest. Something like that anyway. Pakkun might have missed a few details while fleeing for his life!
The obvious answer was to dismiss himself; return to den and pack where he'd be safe and warm. But he could still sense Kinomi, badly injured but alive, above him, and annoying as the tree rat might be, Pakkun didn't leave comrades behind.
But before he could help her, he had to get rid of the oaf on his tail. Sprinting for the trap, he hoped and prayed that enough of it was finished to make this work.
A couple of feet from the trigger, Pakkun yelped dramatically and pretended to fall, using the move to avoid the seal he'd carefully concealed beneath last year's dead leaves. The missing nin wasn't so lucky. Thinking he'd caught his prize, he lunged for Pakkun, slammed one large foot down on the seal, and was instantly mummy-wrapped in enough chakra wire to thoroughly entangle two grown men. Without a second thought, Pakkun activated the second part of the trap, and the ground opened beneath the missing nin's feet. He plummeted down with a despairing howl, and the ground closed solidly over his head.
Pakkun took half a second to get his breath back and wonder where the hell the missing nin had come from, before heading back up the tree.
The bastard had used a senbon. In a way, it was lucky since a kunai would have cut Kinomi in half. Instead she was pinned to the trunk like a butterfly to a card, her little paws wrapped tight around the long needle impaled through her belly.
"Hang on, hang on," Pakkun muttered, manoeuvring around her to get his mouth on the needle. And oh, how he wished for opposable thumbs now.
It wasn't easy but he managed to get a grip eventually, tugging the senbon carefully free of the tree and letting Kinomi slide down the trunk. She made sad hiccupy sounds and her eyes fluttered open. There was blood on her nose, Pakkun could see, and that, combined with the bitter taste in his mouth, was enough to make him really panic. "Poison?" he asked. She nodded, eyes falling closed again, and that was all he needed.
She was hardly more than a mouthful really. Head held high to avoid dragging her, Pakkun headed for home. Using flicker after flicker, he pushed himself to the limit, slowly eating up the few miles of forest that lay between them and help. He had to get there. He had to tell Kakashi what had happened. About the trap and the poison and the missing nin.
When the village gates came into view, Pakkun didn't stop. By then he daredn't stop. His own head was starting to spin from the poison and if he stopped, he just might desummon. And if he did that, both he and Kinomi would be dead, the poison killing them just as effectively back in their own worlds as it would here. Instead he kept running, oblivious to the voices raised behind him calling for the boss and for Iruka, to the pounding feet that sped off, to the urgent bursts of chakra. All he cared about was getting home, getting help, getting back to the boss so the boss could fix everything.
Gravel crunched beneath his paws. Claws tapped on stone. Almost home.
The dog flap registered him coming and opened with click-clack. He flew through it, skidding to a halt in the middle of the genkan, dropped Kinomi carefully to the floor, threw his head back and howled.
No one replied.
Kakashi wasn't there.
There was no help. No hope. No one to fix what was broken.
Vision blurring, Pakkun's legs began to wobble. As he collapsed and the world turned black, he thought he heard the front door open and two familiar voices call his name.
It had been such a close call. Sitting on the futon that Kakashi had set up in the main room so the invalids didn't have to navigate the steep stairs, Iruka stroked soft ears with one hand and bent to nuzzle a fluffy head with his nose. Pakkun was still sleeping, curled on the pillow where Kakashi had put him after Hana had finished treating him. He'd be fine in a few days, she'd said, though he was one lucky little mutt. Brave as well, to get home at all.
Kinomi was even luckier. It turned out the cherries she'd been eating neutralised enough of the poison to save her life. Now she lay snugly in a sling across Iruka's chest, healing from the senbon wound that had pierced a lung as well as her stomach and come so close to killing her. She'd woken enough to tell them what had happened. Kakashi had only waited long enough to hear that she and Pakkun were out of danger before taking a small squad to check the trap and clear up anything that might need moving.
The back door opened, followed a moment later by the kitchen door creaking ajar. Iruka glanced up to see Kakashi peering around it making drink gestures with his hand. Iruka nodded, waited for Kakashi to leave, and then lifted the sling from around his neck. He placed its furry burden on the pillow next to Pakkun and smiled as the ninken snuffled in his sleep and moved closer to his well-bandaged friend. Kinomi reached out and placed a tiny paw on a soft muzzle, and both seemed to slip even more deeply into sleep.
Leaving the injured pair to rest and heal, Iruka padded into the kitchen to find Kakashi going through the cupboards, presumably looking for tea. "Top right," Iruka said, awkwardness rapidly overtaking relief in his mind.
"That's where the plates are supposed to be," Kakashi replied, not looking round but opening the correct cupboard and reaching up for the ornate lacquered box.
And there it was, Iruka's chance to apologise; he would never get a better one.
Three steps brought him into contact with Kakashi's back. He wrapped his arms around him and held on tight, pressing his face to that familiar well-muscled shoulder and inhaling the fresh scents of the forest that clung to Kakashi's jacket. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think. It just looked like a badly cracked tea bowl."
He felt Kakashi's whole body sag as though some great tension had drained from it, and then the sound of the caddy being put down. Kakashi turned in his arms, putting his hands on Iruka's shoulders and pushing him back slightly. Iruka went, but found he couldn't lift his head to meet Kakashi's eyes. The things Kakashi had said to him had been hurtful, but not undeserved. He hadn't known the tea bowl had been the last of a set Sakumo had given his wife as a wedding gift. But neither, as Kakashi had pointed out, had it been Iruka's place to reorganise a space that wasn't his. So yes, he owed Kakashi this apology, and all Iruka could do was hope that he'd accept it.
"You weren't to know," Kakashi said, "And anyway, thinking about it, it was probably as much my fault as it was yours."
Iruka jerked upright, staring into Kakashi's quietly introspective face. His eye was closed, his mouth turned down at the corners. He looked sad, guilty almost, which was ridiculous. He had nothing to blame himself for. Wanting to kiss the hurt away, Iruka controlled himself and instead said, "It really wasn't."
With a shrug, Kakashi continued, "I said I was going to try and open up more, talk to you about this stuff. If I had then this wouldn't have happened."
So that was it. There was a twisted, Kakashi kind of logic to it. But… "No," Iruka replied, giving in to the urge to touch and sliding his hand up Kakashi's neck to cup his cheek. "You're wrong. Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but for once it is all my fault, and I'm man enough to admit it."
"Okay," Kakashi nodded seriously, "in that case I'm man enough to accept your apology. At least, I was last time I looked." He raised his head a little, eyebrow cocked and a half-smile on his lips. "You fancy checking?"
It was lame and dumb and just perfect. Iruka smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Kakashi's and feeling him immediately relax and kiss back. Strong arms wrapped around him, hands gripped his vest and tugged him close to stand between parted legs. They fit together as well as they always did, like puzzle pieces cut to be together. And it was impossibly good to do this again after so long apart. Sure they'd been separated for longer by missions, but that was just physical. Being with Kakashi now, being allowed to touch him again, kiss him again, was a balm to parts of Iruka's soul that had been aching since that day.
"I missed you," he whispered against Kakashi's mouth, tangling his fingers in wayward white hair. "And I am so so sorry. I would never hurt you like that on purpose."
"Yeah, I know," Kakashi began, only for the kettle to start whistling on the stove. He growled at it, sounding so much like one of his ninken that Iruka huffed a laugh.
"Go and see Pakkun," he said, giving Kakashi a little shove in the direction of the main room. "I'll make the tea and bring it through."
When he joined them five minutes later, Kakashi was lying on the futon with Pakkun snoring on his chest and Kinomi curled up in his hair. Iruka frowned at him. "She's not supposed to be moving," he said, putting the tray on the floor and taking a seat himself.
"What can I say, she likes it. Says it reminds her of her nest," Kakashi quipped back, his eye curling into a smile.
"That would be because you've half the forest stuck in it as usual," Iruka said with a straight face, checking the pot and laying out the tea bowls. "By the way, did you you find anyone?"
"Ha! Yes, we did," Kakashi replied, slipping an arm under Pakkun to keep him steady as he sat up. He replaced the pug on the pillow next to Kinomi and came to join Iruka. "He's with Ibiki now, answering some questions. Actually, those two have done us a huge favour. Thanks to them, I am officially off the active roster for the next four days."
No details, but then Iruka didn't expect them. And anyway good news like that didn't need explanation. "Four days?" he asked, already calling in favours in his head as he poured the tea. It wasn't really the done thing to take time off during the term, but he could manage a long weekend if he played his cards right.
"Yup. And all because those two decided to practice traps in the wood." Kakashi stretched lazily onto his side, his expression fond as he looked at the pair. "Any clue as to why they were doing it?"
"None at all," Iruka replied, holding out a bowl. "All Kinomi would say was that it was for someone else."
"Like Pakkun perhaps." Kakashi sounded thoughtful as he took the drink and sipped it. He hummed happily and lifted his gaze to Iruka. "They make a good team." The 'like us' was implied and very welcome.
Iruka laughed, shaking his head in contented amusement. "Not something I ever expected to hear," he said, looking towards the unlikely bedfellows. "A dog and a squirrel, working together like that. Whatever it was, it must have been something important." Twin sets of dark eyes blinked tiredly back at him, two mouths opened in wide yawns showing pink curls of tongue, and then they were both asleep again.
Placing the tea bowl carefully back on the tray, Kakashi leaned in and dropped a kiss on Iruka's cheek. "I think it was the most important thing ever," he said. "To help out a friend."