Broken (like a Child)
"Kakashi-san!" "Kakashi-san!
The grey haired jounin raised his head, eyes travelling across the mission room, his gaze settling on the joy-emanating teacher standing at the entrance.
"Lookit, lookit!"
Kakashi had already noticed the odd piece of metal in Iurka's hands and instead, trained eyes take in the childlike gleam in Iruka's eyes, the swirling, bubbling chakra, uncontrolled, unstable.
But the cyclops chuckles a little as he stands up, gently dislodging the Hokage's paperweight from Iruka's grasp. He'd have to give it back.
"It's very pretty." Eye crinkles into the happy-eye and he rewards the beaming childteacheradult with a smile.
"Let's go home." He'll deal with everything later.
"Ramen?"
"Home."
"Kakashi's a meanie." Iruka pouts, eyes locked onto the distant Ichiraku's, oblivious as Kakashi visibly cringes. Just a minute change in facial expression, since Kakashi's gotta maintain that stoic shinobi crap when all he wants to do is break down.
"Kakashi also has very nice hands." Iruka adds brightly, displaying his own. And he laughs his Iruka-sensei laugh, and Kakashi feels the unpleasant flutter of hope and- "Naruto-kun has nice hands too," a wiggle of his exposed fingers.
The scarecrow's grip around the paperweight tightens, and he barks out a hoarse laugh.
"Thanks," he chokes out, and he falters in step and in speech and says brokenly, "I'm sorry," for no reason at all.
And Iruka really looks at him, or it looks like Iruka really looks at him, and laughs the Iruka-but-not-Iruka laugh and declares, "Kakashi's a nice meanie."