Chapter 4 - Obeying the Apron [revised]
In a dark room, a pale hand twitched in the reflexive act of reaching for and throwing a kunai at the muffled sounds of rattling cookware that filtered through the wooden door of the bedroom. When the noise failed to end in a swift and bloody death, a single blue-gray eye slowly opened. The bleary look vanished instantly as the owner failed to recognize his location. Faster than the normal human eye (or even most shinobi eyes) could follow Kakashi was standing up and behind the most defensible position in the room. He was confused as he noticed that whatever enemy ninja had captured him had seen fit to not only provide him with a rather comfortable bed but had also set his weapons, uniform and armor within easy reach.
The final clue he received hadn't actually been captured by an enemy was the framed picture of Naruto and Iruka set on a small table next to the bed. Naruto was sticking his tongue out while grinning and crossing his arms, his hands in rude symbols. Iruka was trying to bring down Naruto's arms, and a small scowl twisted his mouth. Only if a person looked into the light brown eyes he or she would have seen Iruka's eyes sparkling with good humor.
Kakashi turned to his gear and got dressed. When he saw of his forehead protector on the gear pile his hand instinctively slapped up to cover the Sharingan. The jonin found a soft material on his face and pulled it off. It was a black scarf. Kakashi had to smile. If ever he needed proof of Iruka's mother-henning behavior, well now he had it, because most people wouldn't have thought to replace the forehead protector. They would have assumed that he would be so used to constantly wearing it that he would even wear it to sleep.
He paused to wonder if the other man had also opened his mask. Kakashi slowly checked the hidden fastenings of the mask. He was loathe to mistrust Iruka considering his growing appreciation of the man but he knew there were many people that were willing to go to great lengths for the littlest of peeks. He relaxed when his fingers found the fastenings still in the specific pattern he always set them in. Iruka had resisted the urge to pull down his mask. The jonin could hardly believe it.
Kakashi could name on one hand the number of people who wouldn't take advantage of such an opportunity. Hell, he wouldn't even trust his genin team not to give in to their curiosity if given half a chance.
He stared at the black silk scarf in his hand as he tried to figure out why Iruka hadn't tried to use his advantage against him. He had been so tired because the day before he had spent it on an important mission which no other jonin had available to take, at least not without sending someone whose skill weren't quiet what was needed. Kakashi had been so exhausted last night that he wouldn't have noticed if Naruto had burst into an off-key song next to him.
Ruefully, Kakashi had to admit to himself that if the situation had been reversed then he would have pulled back the mask. His need for intel was too long ingrained to let something like social niceties get in the way. Which rather makes me a hypocrite, Kakashi thought, because if Iruka had looked than Kakashi wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the other ninja. Oh, he'd still treat him as one of his comrades, of course; they were both Leaf shinobi. Only Kakashi would never again have considered him as a possible friend.
But Iruka hadn't pulled the mask down.
Once again in less than twenty-four hours, the jonin found his respect for Iruka rise several more notches. It was getting to the point that he was having more respect and trust in the chunin than he'd ever expected to have considering they hadn't been acquainted for long. Kakashi didn't know how to feel about that.
Kakashi was distracted from further mental musings by the scent of something delicious coming from the kitchen. His stomach rumbled as if demanding he hurry along so it could get food. He walked out of the bedroom and headed over to the kitchen but before he reached it he caught sight of the living room and the messy state of a blanket on the couch. At least now he knew where Iruka had spent the night. He felt a flicker of guilty over kicking the other man out of his own bed and resolved to find someway to make up for it. After all Iruka hadn't asked to have a jonin fall unconscious on him.
He peeked over the entrance to see Iruka wearing over his clothes a plain white apron with the words 'KISS THE COOK' printed in bright red, He flipped a pancake into the air and onto the thick stack behind him. Soon a second pancake came flying over and landed on the an empty platter, a third and fourth pancake stacked neatly on top of it.
Kakashi's visible eye widened at the amount of food on the table. Not just the pancakes, but there was also a huge jug of maple syrup, two plates with eggs and bacon as well as a basket full of various fruits. There was even a chilled pitcher of orange juice next to two empty glasses on the table. His stomach gave a loud rumble and caught the chunin's attention.
"Good morning, Kakashi-sensei," Iruka said cheerfully. "I hope you slept well."
"Yeah, um…" Kakashi said, as he rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry about falling asleep on you and forcing you out of your room."
"Don't worry about it." Iruka smiled at him and waved at the food. "Have some breakfast!"
"That's a lot of food."
Iruka flushed and admitted ruefully, "I woke up earlier than I planned so I decided to make some breakfast then I got a little carried away. Ummm... I'm used to feeding Naruto."
Kakashi's eye curved up in joy. He said teasingly, "I can see that. Nice apron."
Involuntarily, Iruka looked down at his chest and felt his cheeks turning red again. He hadn't even noticed with apron he'd chosen to wear. Naruto had given this to him as a joke because he would always be feeding the boy something. Or at least trying to make him eat. He reached up to his neck to pull it off when a gloved hand stopped him.
The chunin looked up in surprise. Kakashi was close, very close to him. Iruka was too startled to jerk back. The silver haired man was still smiling, then he bent closed and pressed a kiss on Iruka's cheek, before he darted away to the table. Iruka stood in place, stunned, with a hand clasped to his cheek. The kiss was pressed through the jonin's mask and didn't actually involve any physical skin contact but the lack didn't affect his reaction to it. Suddenly, the apron that he usually had shoved to the back of his cupboard and ignored became his favorite one in the world.
Kakashi looked back to see that Iruka had not moved from his spot and felt a slight blush begin to heat his cheeks. He mentally thanked the mask for blocking any sign of it. He didn't know why the urge to kiss the other man had cropped up, all he knew was that he had to follow through. Kakashi called back to the teacher, "Maa… sorry about that Iruka-sensei, but I just had to obey the apron."
His words snapped Iruka out of his bewildered state. He was able to gather his wits about his enough to tease right back. "Oh, so the great Copy Ninja Kakashi has an exploitable weakness? The unstoppable urge to obey aprons?" Iruka couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of such a thing. "Now I'm the one that has great blackmail material."
Kakashi laughed with the chunin. He admitted to himself that at this very moment, here in this strange kitchen, he was happier and more relaxed than he had been for a very long time. Even his most paranoid scenarios couldn't see the danger here. "Let's eat," he suggested, eager to try the tantalizing breakfast.
Iruka carefully turned off his stove and put the dirty pan in the sink before joining the other man. He sat at the table and pulled out a newspaper being careful to spread the pages in such a way so he could eat with one hand and not be able to accidentally peak over at the jonin.
Kakashi was amused. He could tell that it was a deliberate and considerate action, designed to give him the chance to eat, slow enough that he actually tasted the meal, without accidentally revealing his face to the other man. Smiling, Kakshi avoided the amber colored syrup and instead added a generous handful of eggs on top of his pancakes. He wasn't particularly partial to sweet stuff and he was relieved that Iruka had left him the option to avoid the syrup.
The only sounds the filled the kitchen were those of food being chewed and swallowed and the occasional rustle of page as Iruka read the articles in the paper. Kakashi had to force himself to slow down at several points throughout the breakfast. He was so used to eating quickly that he normally didn't take the time to enjoy the taste of each bite. It had been too long since he'd had such a home-cooked meal that he wanted to savor all of it. His last couple of meals other the ramen he got last night had been field rations (more than one morning he'd spent eating ration bars instead of dealing with the hassle of needs to buy groceries to stock his bare cupboards), so getting a home-cooked meal was a treat. Kakashi couldn't help but linger over the food yet all too soon he finished. He refastened his mask and rubbed his full belly, every inch of him radiated happy satisfaction.
"That was delicious," Kakashi said, content. "Thank you. You didn't have to cook for me."
Iruka waved a piece of bacon in the air dismissing the thanks. "You were my guest," he said, still behind the newspaper, "I would hardly be good host if I let you leave without feeding you." It also allowed him to show off his culinary skills without being too obvious of trying to discover if Kakashi was the sort of man whose route to his heart lay through his stomach.
"You can look now," Kakashi said. Iruka looked over his paper to see Kakashi's eye curved with happiness.
Iruka flushed. "Was I really that obvious?"
"As easy to read as my favorite book!" Kakashi joked, and got an idea. "Speaking of which, I was thinking of getting you a copy of it as a thank you!"
Iruka blanched. He hated that book series with a passion. "Err.. Thanks but no thanks, Kakashi. I…I really don't read those books." It wasn't that he was a prude, his lecherous thoughts about Kakashi were proof of that, but rather that Jiraiya-sama's works were rather... childish wasn't exactly the right term considering the content but it was the first word which came to Iruka's mind. Childish and so far from reality that Iruka honestly wondered if Jiraiya-sama had ever been in a long-term relationship that wasn't purely fantasy. There was only one book of Jiraiya-sama's that Iruka kept in his home and 'The Tales of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi' was going to remain the only one.
Kakashi was crushed, he had always hoped to find someone to share his favorite books with. Iruka had seemed like the perfect candidate to be fellow fan. "Oh, I see."
Iruka noticed his pained tone and tried to placate him.
"I wouldn't object to getting another history book to add to my collection of texts I use to teach my classes."
Now Kakashi was horrified. He was giving the chunin the chance to get an entertaining book, like 'Icha Icha Paradise' and the man wanted a history book. A history book. And here Kakashi thought that he was prone to overworking. Iruka-sensei may actually have him beat in getting the title of workaholic.
"No, that's too boring," Kakashi said firmly and leaned over into Iruka's face, staring intently as if he could will the chunin into changing his mind. Iruka leaned back.
"Hey," Iruka protested. "I happen to like history books."
The disappointed look that Kakashi sent him made him squirm. He hated to see it on the face of someone whose opinion mattered to him.
"You're getting a fun book," Kakashi insisted.
"It's been ages since I've bought myself a book to read simply for fun."
"Then it's long overdue." Kakashi sat back, satisfied. "And you're still not buying it. I am."
Iruka gave Kakashi a suspicious look. He may have a huge crush on Kakashi that clouded his thinking in regards to the man but that didn't mean that he trusted the jonin not to buy one of the 'Icha Icha' series in order to try to convert him. "If you're going to go to a bookstore, I'm coming with you."
"Let's go now!" Eagerly, Kakashi stood up. He was ready to head out.
Iruka didn't move from his chair. He just looked amused, and Kakashi sent him a puzzled look. "I have to had over to the academy to teach my students," Iruka reminded him. "Also, don't you have a mission with the team today?"
"Oh, yeah." Kakashi blinked. He shrugged, "I forgot your brats probably wouldn't like it if you showed up late."
Iruka snorted as he tried to suppress the bubble of laughter in his throat. "How about we meet after our previous engagements?" he suggest, quietly thrilled at getting to spend more time in the other man's company.
Both ninjas agreed to meet later in the day outside the biggest bookstore in the village.
Iruka was so busy enjoying his meal with Kakashi that he almost failed to notice the time on the clock on the wall. When he finally did notice, his brown eyes widened in shock. He apologized to the jonin for running out as he frantically gathered the materials that he needed for his class. Iruka nearly forgot the stack of graded papers that he'd completed the previous day until Kakashi handed them to him.
He shot the man a grateful look and nearly ran out the door when Kakashi's arm shot out, grabbing the back of his flak jacket. Iruka nearly choked due to the sudden stop and turned to glare at the jonin, who just smiled and pointed to the front of his clothes. The brunet looked down and was stunned to see that he was still wearing the 'KISS THE COOK' apron.
"Ah," Iruka said sheepishly as he peeled it off. He thanked Kakashi for noticing and this time ran out the door without interruptions.
Kakashi stood in the silent kitchen while trying to decide what to do next after his daily stop by the memorial. He could always meet up with Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura since they were expecting him in an hour but he suspected that if he showed up on time he'd give them all heart-attacks. He consoled himself with the thought that if they freaked out they wouldn't be any good on the mission. So the best thing to do, for the well being of his students of course, was to arrive as was his usual habit: late!
Ah, he was such a good and thoughtful teacher.
He snapped his fingers as memory of his students triggered the recollection of all those pictures he had taken the night before. He should probably go get them developed while he still had a chance, and before he forgot again. And with Sasuke and Naruto as his subordinates Kakashi would probably need to use the photos for blackmail sooner rather than later.
Kakashi whistled cheerfully as he jumped up to the roof of Iruka's house and started jumping towards the location of the only camera shop in the Hidden Leaf Village. It was owned by a family, three generations, all obsessed with photography. Not only were they famous photographers of various styles but they also sold equipment, cameras, film and for a nominal fee developed the film for customers.
The head of the photo-clan, Shashin, was well known to Kakashi. He'd been the one assigned to take Kakashi's genin graduation picture, and nearly every successive picture of the jonin since it. Kakashi fondly recalled the shouting matches they got into every time the old man would try to convince him that the only way to take a good head shot was without his black mask.
Kakashi had yet to lose an argument. Never mind, that he usually won by creating a shadow clone, knocking the old man out and taking the picture himself.
Arriving at the photo shop, the jonin stopped and shaped his hands into a seal. With a puff of chakra smoke he vanished only to reappear on top of the sales counter inside the store.
"Aarrrgggh!" yelled the poor cashier at Kakashi's unexpected arrival. In his shock the cashier fell backwards onto the wooden floor. The cashier was a thin, dark haired, and serious looking young man. He glared up at the jonin. "Don't do that!"
The silver haired man raised a hand in greeting. "Yo, Firumu!"
"Oh gods, not you," Firumu moaned, as he picked himself up. He looked around desperately. "Do you know what Father would do if he saw you here?"
"How is Shashin?" Kakashi asked, as he hopped off the counter and headed for a display of film canisters.
"He was fine," the young man said sarcastically. "I don't know whether that'll continue to be true if sees you."
"What are you talking about?" Kakashi asked cheerfully. "That old man loves me."
"Loves the thought of killing you," Firumu contradicted the jonin. "He's practically declared kill-on-sight orders to the entire clan in regards to you.'"
Kakashi just smiled cheerfully, his eye curbing in its customary amused manner. "What a kidder! Tell the old geezer hello from me."
Firumu stared in disbelief at the other man then let his head hit the counter with a loud thump. He repeated this motion a couple more times before starting to mumbling 'kill me now' over and over again.
Kakashi ignored him. He picked up various kinds of roll of film, including a special kind which used chakra to activate it. He quickly picked what he wanted then slowly browsed the rest of the store, deliberately trying to drive the young man at the counter insane. When the muttering transformed to occasional pained whimpers, Kakashi decided to move on. He didn't really want to explain to Shashin how he had managed to snap the mind of his youngest son.
The jonin dropped his purchases next to Firumu, who leapt upon them as if they were his last hope of salvation. The young man quickly rang up the price and Kakashi forked over his cash. Firumu was ready to shove Kakashi out the door when the jonin remembered the film he wanted developed. The poor cashier almost tore out his hair as he gave the back of the store fearful glances.
Kakashi spread out a small fan of three film canisters. "Can you have these done by later today?"
"Yes! Yes!" Firumu told him frantically. "Anything! Just get going!"
"Ahh, such friendly service," Kakashi grinned. "I really have to let your boss know how much I enjoyed shopping at your store."
Firumu turned paper white.
"Just kidding!" Forming a seal, Kakashi vanished from the store. The jonin still had one more place to visit before he met up with the genins.
"What's that noise? Are you giving a customer a bad time, Firumu?" yelled a gravely male voice from the back of the store.
"No, father!" Firumu shouted back. He said quite honestly, "There's no one in the store!"
The stressed young man collapsed to the floor and shook with relief. That had been too close for his comfort. He swore that next time he would get one of his older siblings to take over the morning shifts, it was the only time Kakashi ever visited.
He whimpered as he remembered the three rolls of film waiting for him on top of the counter. He leaped up to give them looks of wide-eyed terror. That meant that the jonin would be coming back! In the evening! And he had promised to cover that shift for his sister!
Firumu resumed his earlier action of continuously knocking his head against the counter.