Iruka stretched, catlike, popping his spine with pleasure before his memories of the last week came crashing back. Deadened eyes looked at the ceiling. He'd cried his tears already. Swift, hot and in the middle of battle, a rare combat mission he had been assigned.
How could it have happened?
….How could Sarutobi have LET it happen?
He clenched his hand, pressed it to his eyes and took a deep breath.
He had to concentrate. He needed to get to the meeting. Maybe he could stop this after all.
So he swung his limbs out of bed and supressed a groan as he saw the time. Stripping his sleeping clothes off, he yelped as he banged his elbow on the way to the shower. Gritting his teeth against the pain (because no matter how many injuries you'd had on missions, a stubbed toe (or elbow) still .hell.) he grabbed a towel out of the closet and flung it over the rail, before taking the quickest shower ever known to that bathroom. (And considering he was a chuunin who taught classes and did desk duty and naruto's Aiko-sensei on the side, it was pretty damn quick.) Barely a few minutes later, he twisted the towel into keeping his hair up ( Being friends with Anko had a few benefits – learning some girly things that happened to be useful were just a few of them.) and flicked the last of the water off his limbs before pulling his clothes on, checking them carefully first (He didn't put it above his students to use a time-delay). The clothes were fine but his chuunin vest had some kind of trap in the pocket (Sensing Jutsu were almost as required for ANBU as they were to be a teacher), and he didn't have time to disarm it, so he left it hung on the back of the chair and grabbed a new one from the closet. (It was identical, even had the same things in – his mornings were always last-minute, but his afternoons left plenty of time to sort things.)
He was half-way out the door before he remembered the towel on his head. A tomato-red blush bloomed on his cheeks as he ducked back in, hooking it on the back of the door and grabbing a hair tie from the pot on the hall table, shaking some paperclips loose from it first. He tucked his hair up into a ponytail and cast a quick jutsu (another find of Anko's: It gave his hair the same split ends though.), the ponytail flaring into spikes – but dry spikes, free of the dripping wetness that would have made him totally unpresentable.
Ready, finally, Iruka locked his apartment door and set off along the street. The rooftops would be faster, but Iruka didn't like reminding his students parents (particularly those who were civilians) that he was too much of an active ninja. So he walked briskly to the Hokage's tower – at 6am, there were very few people about save for stallholders setting up for the new day as the last ninja who were coming back from missions tended to peter out at around three or four, and most of those going out were either gone by five, or going later.
Reaching the doors, Iruka nodded politely at the ANBU. They were still on edge. It was difficult not to be. He'd noticed that the clan students had been particularly edgy this week. And Naruto had been forgetting things(people), re-introducing himself. They'd passed it off as him being weird, but Iruka had noticed his confusion. It'd passed after the first few days, but it was still worrying.
Sarutobi's voice called him in.
He entered, then blinked as another ninja sat upon the chair – if sat was used in the loosest sense of the word that is. Perch, perhaps, because the ninja (Hatake Kakashi, Iruka noticed absently; He turned in some of the worst mission reports.) looked ready to flee at a moment's notice. Even more tightly-wound than the ANBU outside.
The chuunin smiled at him and then cast a questioning glance at Sarutobi.
"Iruka, would you care for some tea?
Taking the cup (He takes note of the temperature;cold – perhaps the Tea-ANBU is busy today – he won't let it be an omen to the state of affairs), Iruka sipped it lightly, and sat down. The nerves of the other ninja fray on his, but it doesn't set him aflutter. The tensions of the other teachers are often worse, especially now, around exam time.
They have a short discussion about inconsequential things, that later Iruka won't remember because the memory is overlayed with blue-red rage. They discuss students, and Iruka gleans that what Sarutobi wants is him to drop hints on how to deal with them. He does. Frequently. Hatake leaves and Iruka starts to do so when Sarutobi tells him he can't see Naruto anymore.
Iruka pauses, then turns. He gives Sarutobi time to explain. When he does Iruka smiles politely, thin-lipped. Anybody who knows Iruka would be backing away. When he leaves the office with a polite click of the door, Sarutobi smiles. The council might be able to stop the mission, remove Aiko-sensei from the books, declare him killed in action – but they can't stop Iruka. And Iruka, quiet Iruka who all the students love, who nobody can be mean to, Iruka who will never rise above Chuunin because he knows too many village secrets – well.
If Sarutobi had to bet on it (he supresses a pang of pain about an old student), he thinks even Tsunade would win if she bet on Iruka.
Iruka is perhaps the best example of inner fire he has ever seen, whether he hails from here or not.
