So, there was this picture on the LJ KakaIru comm of semi-stripping Kakashi, and I thought it might be funny if there were some 'creative' jutsu around, so this crack-tastic ficlet was born. If you want it to be KakaIru, maybe you can convince me to write an 'alternative' ending, muahahahah!
It was the middle of a long boring day in the middle of a long boring week of a long boring and hot month during the dog days of summer. No clouds broke the sky, no wind stirred the drooping, shriveled green leaves as they sagged limply on their branches under the heat, not a drop of moisture was to be found in the air, and on the whole Konoha was beginning to feel a little too much like Sunagakure for anyone's liking. The only thing for which the shinobi population had to be grateful for on this scorcher of a day was the fact that there were no assignments demanding they leave the air conditioned sanctuary of the missions room, where it seemed most of the jounin had congregated, not wanting to brave the torturous heat in their long pants, long sleeved shirts and vests after discovering the small miracle of there being no jobs to complete. True, they could have just done that flashy teleportation jutsu and poofed away, but, where could they go? It was too hot to go train, too early to hit the bars, and too late to sleep in. Kurenai had opted to go and get a manicure, but that still left Genma, Raidou, Kakashi, Asuma, Gai and Anko. Which led to the current situation. A roomful of slightly bored, slightly hot jounin, and one chuunin schoolteacher manning the missions desk. Or in other terms, the hunters and the prey.
Kakashi, Genma and Anko had suddenly made their move and appeared quite suddenly right in front of where Iruka was sitting with a stack of paperwork the Godaime had dumped on him in an effort to evade doing her own share with the excuse that, 'There are no mission reports to check and you already finished grading those exams.' To his credit, Iruka didn't startle or jump or squeak or meep or any of the other things that amused the other nins so much. Anko and Genma looked rather disappointed. Kakashi just looked bored. Or stoned. One could never tell…
Iruka carefully raised his head from his work to see the three jounin staring him down. Looking on at Iruka from his seat across the room, Asuma was reminded of the way a deer looks into the headlights of an oncoming train. He kind of felt bad for the man, but felt better that his three slightly less than sane comrades had elected to try out some jutsu on the chuunin rather than wax off Gai's eyebrows or his own chest hair. That would have been, in the words of his lazy student, troublesome. As it stood, Genma spoke to the man seated in front of him.
"You know Iruka, we thought you might like to help us out with a little something, seeing as you have no missions for us and all," he drawled, the senbon perpetually stuck in his mouth bouncing jauntily as he leaned a little closer on the balls of his feet.
"You are aware that I'm not personally responsible for the creation of missions, Genma-san, only their dissemination," Iruka carefully replied, knowing enough to be suspicious of the each of the three nin separately, and downright paranoid of the three of them together.
Genma waved this off dismissively, saying, "Yeah, yeah, okay, so what? Surely you wouldn't mind if we…" and quicker than the eye could see he flashed through some hand seals and cried triumphantly, "Stripper no jutsu!"
There was a puff of sparkly smoke before Iruka, who had only managed to jump up from his seat during the assault, appeared, decked out in full stripper gear. A pair of thigh-high black vinyl boots covered in straps and buckles adorned his feet, meeting very tight very red leather pants that rode low on his hips. His abs were completely bare, the tan skin enticingly exposed to the very appreciative eyes that raked his frame. Fishnet arm covers rose to just beneath his biceps, and is chest, well now, that was barely covered with a matching red leather vest which started just above his ribcage, the zipper of which was half open to expose his toned pecs. Delicate looking collarbones peaked out, leading up to a black choker around a surprisingly slender throat. The choker had a D-ring in the center, and a chain hung down to his waist where it threaded through the belt loops of his pants, if that's what they could be called. They looked too tight to be called pants the way they hugged his toned thighs and the rise of his hipbones, it was more like the textile had been painted on. To top it all off, Iruka's traditional ponytail was gone, leaving his rich chocolate brown hair to fall in a cascade all around his shoulders, framing his face which was highlighted by kohl-lined eyes and some shiny lip gloss that made his mouth look very very plump and wet. The dazed look Iruka was sporting went very well with the eyeliner and the whole ensemble. His slightly gaping mouth did too.
Gai leapt up, his booming voice announcing, "Genma-san! Your jutsu! It is such a magnificent display of youthfulness and vigor!" He did one of his infamous Good Guy™ poses and gleamed at Iruka, announcing, "You embody the boldness with which our shinobi so courageously go forth to conquer those who would dare defy our noble village!"
After a few moments of ogling (even Kakashi was looking awake now) Anko stepped forward with a gleam in her own eyes.
"Very nice, Genma, but watch…THIS!" And with that her hands blurred through a flurry of activity and she crowed out, "No!pants no jutsu."
When the next puff of smoke vanished, Iruka stood as he had been previously adorned with the exception that instead of the pants paint, there were, predictably, no pants. Instead, there was a leather thong. It was definitely a thong, because Iruka's firm but shapely backside was clearly reflected in the recently cleaned windows behind where the chuunin stood. The sound of a senbon plinking to the floor was heard. In its stead, a thin trickle of drool ran from the corner of its owner's mouth. There was also a slightly wet looking spot on Kakashi's mask where one could assume his mouth was hanging open. He had pushed his forehead protector out of the way, revealing a slowly spinning Sharingan, which was reminiscent of the blinking red light on a camcorder. Raidou was politely averting his eyes to the floor, the hue of his blush suggesting that of a ripe tomato. Iruka continued to gape, his mind taking a trip to the place that was not just a river in Egypt; denial.
Finally, gathering his mind from the gutter, Kakashi stepped forward.
"Maa, those were some great moves guys, but," and with an air of finality to it he rocketed through a series of hand signs and clapped his palms together, announcing, "Nekkid no jutsu!"
It is sometimes said that the sharp tongue often cuts its own throat. If that were true, it could only follow that, when the final smoke cleared and Iruka had gone streaking out of the room like a bat out of hell, there would be left in front of the desk three jounin, all laid out on the floor, each in their own pool of crimson fluid and unconscious from the severe loss of said liquid from the massive nosebleed that each had suffered.
At least they all had a smile on their face. Except maybe Kakashi. It was more like he had a smile on his eyes, since you couldn't really see his face. But you could probably take his mask off now, if you wanted, since he was at the moment out cold. Of course, you'd have to deal with the fact that the mask was soaked in blood, and with the geyser still erupting from his nostrils you most likely wouldn't be able to see anything anyway, but whatever.