A Different Perspective
By Book of Changes
Rating: M for Language
Main Cast: Kakashi, Iruka, Naruto
Summary: (AU) Kakashi prepared himself for the worst when he was saddled with the Kyuubi no gaki, a.k.a. Naruto. He did not, however, expect this.
Disclaimer: This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Masashi Kishimoto, and various publishers including but not limited to TV Tokyo.
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Into the Lair
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Two days after his unexpected visit to the hospital for reasons that will Never Be Discussed in Public, Kakashi found himself poking his breakfast (brunch?) in a nearly empty administration canteen with his hashi. The food looked as plastic as ever. I swear they hire the same people who make our traveling rations. And speaking of the canteen staff… He glared balefully at them. Normally, at this time of day, the canteen would be fairly bursting with fellow ninjas (single, usually male) who came for something quick and free (if unpalatable), so hardly anyone would be aware of his presence. Today, however, only the canteen and janitorial staff on duty were around, trying, but failing, to hide their interest directed at his masked face. For crying out loud, it's nothing worth writing home for. But no matter how much he glared, they didn't back down. They never did.
"Saa … I'd better get going …" He left his untouched meal for the cleaning staff. They gave him a glare filled with disappointment and disapproval. I do NOT feel guilty about this, Kakashi crabbed to himself as he slouched out of the canteen, and the Administration building.
Kakashi blinked under the sunlight. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he pondered what he should do next. THE CAKE INCIDENT disabled so many Jounin and Chuunin that Genin Orientation had to be rescheduled. The Academy was closed for the same reasons. Gai was still in the hospital, but he didn't feel evil or diligent enough to pay a visit just to annoy him, so that left Kakashi somewhat at a loss. He could go and bother Sandaime, or read Icha Icha Paradise, but he didn't feel like doing either. His disinclination to read Icha Icha shocked Kakashi to the core. He traced the uncharacteristic emotion, and found the cause was confusion. But why was he confused?
"Hatake-san?"
Kakashi looked up and found the source of his confusion: Umino Iruka.
Hitherto, Kakashi thought at least his sexuality was alike the greater portion of the population— straight as a well-fletched arrow. Not that he had much evidence to substantiate his claim: he had no desire for marriage or family, as he hated the implications of the former and lived without the latter for so long he could honestly say it was best for all parties if he didn't try to make one. Also, by the time he was mature enough to feel hormonal activities in his body, his level of Chakra control allowed him to automatically suppress any cumbersome urges if the timing was inappropriate (which is to say, anytime he wasn't reading one of the Icha Icha volumes). But, despite his non-existent desire for reproduction and lack of unauthorized sexual urges, he developed an immense appreciation for porn of the straight variety. So he (reasonably) assumed he was yet another heterosexual male of the masses.
Then Iruka dropped into his life like a misguided, but deadly, bombshell.
All right, so the misguided bombshell screwed up half of the male shinobi population in Konoha as well. But really, one would think he was too old to have a sexual identity crisis.
"Um, Hatake-san, are you still there?"
"Hmm…?" Kakashi blinked back to reality. Iruka was waving his right hand in front of his face, while balancing a hefty looking shopping bag on his left arm. Sometimes I embarrass myself… "Iyaa sumimasen, Iruka-sensei. I was rather preoccupied."
"Oh," Iruka's eyes twinkled rather like a mischievous child's. The sight made Kakashi's stomach turn. Or maybe it was his heart that beat off-rhythm. At any rate, his bodily functions were going haywire.
"Were you thinking about the evening before?" Iruka asked.
Kakashi was too busy putting his heart-beat in order to answer. Then he realized his silence was as good as admitting he was there. Blast.
"So you were there too! I knew Harada-sensei was up to something, but I wasn't quite sure what. It wasn't until I was half way through that cake he gave me—"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Blast. Blast. Blast. Where was his brain when he needed it?
Iruka looked annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. "There's no need to deny it. You're not the only one who was affected, and all things considered, you weathered it better than anyone else."
Kakashi had nothing to say to that. Damn.
"See? It's not so bad," said Iruka. "But it must have been terribly inconvenient and confusing. I—" His face reddened slightly. Then he looked around the empty street. Since he was looking elsewhere, Kakashi took the opportunity to wipe any tells from his person. Fat lot of help it's going to be now…
"Do you want to talk about it over tea?" Iruka asked.
Kakashi thought about it. On one hand, Iruka was offering him an opportunity to ask questions in a confidential setting. And he wanted to know what Iruka did two days ago. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he could withstand Iruka's mysterious influence any longer.
"Where is the place you have in mind?" Kakashi asked.
"I have tea imported from Cha-no-Kuni at my place."
He's inviting me to his house at the get-go? Not that I mind observing him in his natural habitat, but… "Do you have coffee?"
"Hmm…" Iruka dug into his shopping bag, and pulled out a plastic jar. "Will this do?"
It was Kakashi's favorite coffee brand, and the particular product mixed its ground coffee with vanilla powder— another favorite. As if that wasn't enough, Iruka was smiling expectantly. The only consolation Kakashi had was that at least he managed to grab, strangle, and brutalize the expected blankness before he crumbled.
There was no verbal agreement. But Kakashi soon found himself following Iruka's lead, listening to a little voice in his head screaming: Damn him to hell! Damn him! Damn… cute…
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Iruka took the streets that were most crowded, and he didn't look back to see if Kakashi was following. He didn't talk either. Kakashi was uncomfortably touched at this bit of consideration: touched because normal people would try to fill the silence with mindless chatter; uncomfortable because he had to toy with the idea that Iruka might have read deep into his character from a single encounter—and what would that mean to him? I'm out of shape.
Kakashi became uneasy when he noticed Iruka was heading towards the civilian apartment district. Not many shinobi lived there; the buildings were less fortified, and there was little, if any, room left for personal touches. There were also civilian neighbors to consider— they tended to react badly when their homes got swept into a ninja fight, and complained the most once the fight was over (Provided, of course, the civilian survived the fight. Unfortunately ninjas were obligated to save civilians, no matter how cranky).
Finally Iruka stopped in front of an old apartment complex. He turned around to face Kakashi.
"This is where I live. My place is on the sixth floor."
Kakashi made a cursory inspection on the place. It wasn't bad for a civilian residence: three fire escapes (good escape routes), all individual balconies fortified with bars and strong glass (hard to get in but easier to get out), and partially fenced windows (same as the balconies). The building itself was rather old, but more sturdily built than the more recent developmental homes in Konoha. Must have been made during the Ninkai Wars. The sixth floor of the apartment complex was at the same height as the roof of a non-descript building standing next to it, and the distance between the two buildings was such that any Ninja worth their hitai-ite should be able to cross it in one jump. Worst-case scenario, I can always run away.
Therefore Kakashi was considerably more at ease as they climbed up the stairways. Iruka opened the door to his apartment and stepped in first, as per shinobi protocol. But as Kakashi turned to look through the door, it almost seemed as though he was drawn in by a kind of horrified fascination— one dredged up entirely from his unique experience from two days ago.
Once he stepped inside, he stared. Then he stared some more, and kept on staring.
Though he couldn't claim to know much about interior decorating, Kakashi had a feeling he would never see the like of Iruka's apartment: the conventional fluorescence lights hung on the ceilings, but their plastic covers had been removed. Instead, they were encased in rice-paper lanterns, its sides decorated with strange iconic paintings and geometric patterns. Small directed lamps scattered throughout the apartment provided most the working light, and several of them were on the floor, pointing upwards so that objects above them were lit from below. The ceiling was painted a deep porous blue, interlaced with different shades of green and silver. This, combined with the strange lighting, made the atmosphere shimmer like the coastal depths of a summer sea.
"Please take a seat," Iruka pulled out a chair. "How would you like your coffee?"
Kakashi shook himself out of his staring, "Black, no sugar."
"Hai, please wait."
Iruka shuffled around the kitchen, putting away his groceries and preparing the coffee. Kakashi took that moment to perform his ritual sweep for any hidden weapons or hideaways. He quickly became baffled when his glance kept lingering on the glass figurines, overflowing bookshelves, crumpled kites, badly developed photo's taped to the walls, and various other mismatched cast-offs that filled the room. His nose wasn't cooperating either. His first whiff picked up background scents of flowing water and forest blossoms, but nothing tale-tellingly metal mixed with weapon grease. His second whiff detected smells that seem to characterize Iruka— paper, chalk, sumi, and watercolor paints, but not much else.
Taken individually, Kakashi's observations implied Iruka hadn't fortified his house and person like a good shinobi should. But that didn't explain his uncharacteristic fascination towards knickknacks of little weaponry value. Even if he put his ninja-instincts on hold, he couldn't see the knickknacks as anything but pieces of junk that should have been thrown out. Yet when viewed together, especially under the directed lights, the total effect was that of warmth and welcome.
It put Kakashi at ease.
Kakashi wondered if Iruka designed his house like this on purpose, or if he was just talented in interior decorating.
"Here you go," Iruka emerged from the kitchen, bearing two steaming mugs. He placed the mug that smelled of strong coffee with a hint of vanilla in front of Kakashi. The other, from which Kakashi could detect sugar and hazelnut besides the coffee, he kept for himself. Then Iruka sat on a chair across from Kakashi, and closed his eyes.
They drank their coffee in silent accord.
"So, Hatake-san—" Iruka started.
Oh no, not that again. "Please don't call me that," Kakashi cut-in. Anything but 'Hatake-san' — I have enough reminders of Sakumo as it is.
As expected, Iruka looked off-kilter at his rude interruption. But the young teacher regained his composure quickly enough. "Hai, Kakashi … sensei," he tried again.
Kakashi hummed. Whether the sound was meant for Iruka or the coffee he was drinking was not quite obvious.
Iruka cleared his throat, and resumed: "If you have any questions, Kakashi-sensei, please ask. I'll do my best to answer them."
How can you be so damn assertive but so damn polite at the same time? "What did you do with that cake two days ago?" And what kind of lame leading question was that, you twit?
"Well…" Iruka set down his mug. "Quite frankly, I want to know myself. I just ate it. I wasn't trying to be lewd. But everyone left because they couldn't hide their … problems."
Kakashi almost snorted coffee up his nose. "You knew!" Blast, blast, blast. He couldn't stop that from coming out.
Iruka looked irritated for the first time. "Kakashi-sensei, just because my colleagues got it in their heads this … phenomenon is a byproduct of my supposedly unique innocence, doesn't mean that I actually am that oblivious."
CUTE! Cu— oh gawd, did I just think that!? THIS GUY IS NOT HUMAN! "Aah, sumimasen, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi cleared his throat. "So, you weren't doing anything intentionally?"
"No," said Iruka, grimacing. "You may not believe this, but I only realized I was the cause of the incident when Ibiki-san literally ran away from me yesterday," A pause, "Before that, I thought someone had pulled a high-caliber prank genjutsu in the canteen."
Ibiki managed to run away? Holy shit, he's good! "I believe you," Kakashi said. "But how did you know you were the cause, and how do you know Ibiki?" Finding interrogation specialists fleeing from your mere presence is not sufficient proof that you are the cause of mass hormonal overload. Moreover, Ibiki is not a person you randomly meet on the street and exchange names with.
"I may not know what actually caused that … incident, but I do know certain triggering actions incite a similar effect." Iruka swirled his coffee mug morosely. "Now I have to add 'eating cake' into my private inventory of Forbidden Public Actions."
"You keep track of them all?" This sounds good.
"I note anything I become aware of. I have a physical list, if you're interested," Iruka said. Then he added: "Harada-sensei probably has a more comprehensive list than mine, considering the number of times he used me in his stupid bets."
"I'll ask him then." Then kill him afterwards.
Iruka looked faintly amused. "He won't give it to you willingly."
Kakashi shrugged. "I have some persuasive measures up my sleeve."
Iruka looked even more amused. "You know, that's the same thing Hokage-sama said to me once, in a similar context."
Did he now… "I'll come to take a look at yours if I fail." Kakashi briefly curled his eye into an inverted 'U', which was lost to Iruka since his eyes were still closed. "Now about Ibiki…"
"I'm a former member of the Hostage Rescue and Criminal Profiling Division," Iruka replied. "Ibiki-san and I worked on several cases together."
"Oh, you were part of that joint?" It suits him; and kind of explains this apartment's décor, and Ibiki's presence, and some other stuff. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you leave?"
Iruka didn't reply immediately, and took a bracing swallow of coffee. "Hokage-sama asked me to be Naruto's Academy teacher. I agreed."
"Ah," But that can't be all. I don't know much about profiling, but I do know the ability to put people at ease in order to profile them in their natural state is crucial. Your … gift… does the exact opposite. On top of that, the Criminal Profiling Division, that fiendishly selective and grabby little joint, actually let you leave…
…Best direct the conversation elsewhere. "You don't happen to have comprehensive profiles of my Genin team, do you?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Iruka's tone was light, and didn't sound forced. "They're informal though, and highly personal."
"But it would put my despair at ease?"
Iruka smiled, and Kakashi felt his treacherous body go haywire again. "No. But it might give you a laugh or two." The young sensei chuckled. "I had more fun writing Sasuke and Naruto's profiles than it should be considered normal. And speak of the devil…"
There was a loud knocking at the entrance door.
"Iruka-sensei!" shouted a muffled voice that sounded far too familiar than Kakashi would have liked. "I'm here to make your lunch!"
"Would you like to stay?" asked Iruka, smiling in the way that snapped whatever was left of Kakashi's will power in 0.5 seconds flat. "Naruto's an excellent chef."
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During the precious half a minute while Iruka left to open the door, Kakashi pondered over his experience with what he decided to call 'the Influence'. If Ibiki ever recruits Iruka, Konoha will have a nearly 100 percent interrogation success rate. I can almost see it: Iruka asking questions all friendly like, and the prisoner screaming 'Interrogate me properly! PROPERLY, you bastards!' before the poor sod crumbles— bwahahaha…!
Kakashi was still pondering over the idea, when something eye-burningly orange bounded into the apartment like a bloody fire engine. It came to an abrupt stop beyond the short foyer.
"What's Kakashi-sensei doing here?" Naruto's voice asked.
Alas. Now I must keep my conversations PG-13. "Yo," Kakashi waved his hand by-way of greeting.
"I invited him over for coffee," Iruka said, giving him a slight nudge. "Naruto, can you make lunch for three?"
Naruto didn't move. Instead, he crossed his arms while radiating suspicion. "He isn't another leech mooching off of your food, is he?"
Hold that thought: another leech? "Huh?"
"Don't call your Jounin-sensei a leech!" Iruka scolded. "And no, he is NOT 'another leech' as you oh-so eloquently put it!" Then he bopped the boy's head for good measure.
"Ouch—!" Naruto gave Iruka a dirty look. "I was just asking! You didn't hafta hit me!" Huffing, he turned to face Kakashi, rubbing the growing lump on his head rather pointedly. "Do ya have any special requests?"
Kakashi blinked. It would appear I jumped from leech to human in his personal evolutionary chain. "Can you make miso?"
Naruto pulled a face. "Anyone can make miso."
But not everyone can make it tasty, "Salt-grilled mackerel?"
"Traditional type ain't ya, Kakashi-sensei?" To Iruka, Naruto half-shouted, "Are you sure he ain't a leech? You were supposed to buy salted mackerel and vegetables today. This is too much to be a coincidence, if you ask me…"
Kakashi curled his eye into an inverted 'U'. Again, it was lost to his audience as Iruka was busy bopping Naruto on the head for the second time. I just might be able to get my favorite food edible and for free today. Ufufufu…
"Please excuse him. He doesn't mean to be rude," Iruka apologized profusely, as Naruto stomped into the kitchen (at last!) while muttering something unprintable. "He just has a direct connection between his brain and mouth."
"I DO NOT!" Naruto shouted from the kitchen.
"Or rather, when he thinks, he must speak."
"I SO CAN THINK SILENTLY!" Naruto shouted again.
"It's all right." Though I can't say the same if it turns out he's just loud, and can't cook worth squat. "Er, about that 'leech' comment…"
"Oh. Um, I have … quite a number of acquaintances who drop by during meal times with the flimsiest excuses," Iruka explained, "As I said before, Naruto is a very good cook."
"Oh," Kakashi gave the orange pup full of energy bouncing around Iruka's kitchen a dubious look. "How long has he been cooking for you?"
"About a year and a half," Iruka grinned. "Ever since he decided, and I quote, 'you're going to kill yourself with your own cooking one of these days'."
"AND HE ALMOST DID!" the orange pup bellowed. Then he almost tripped while holding onto more knives than could be considered safe.
"…I see." Kakashi looked down at his coffee. Escape plan A) fling self through glassed balcony. Escape plan B)…
"Would you like to read the profiles while you're waiting?" Iruka asked over a din that sounded like a collapsing pile of pots and pans.
Kakashi looked up, just in time to see a meat knife fly above the kitchen sink and embed itself on the counter. "Yes please." Anything that will distract me from that commotion…
Iruka stood up and headed towards one of the overflowing bookshelves. During the lapse of thirty-two seconds, Kakashi witnessed a miniature bonfire go up and tickle the tiled kitchen ceiling, bits and pieces of pale substances he truly did not want to identify roll around the counter, and several projectiles of wine-colored liquid.
"Here you go," Iruka handed over three manila folders. He looked supremely calm even when a contained explosion lit up his kitchen like an open furnace.
Kakashi opened a file at random. As luck would have it, it was Naruto's (informal) comprehensive profile. He read the warnings (abandon all hope ye who read this profile), and browsed through the introduction, which described a profiling method he was not familiar with. Kakashi found himself nodding in agreement at one point; it was easy to confuse a person's communication trait with his decision-making trait, therefore both traits needed to be measured separately with caution. He skimmed through the detailed analysis, but then mentally staggered when he started reading the Other Observations section.
Surprising affinity to gardening; remarkable skill at culinary arts; catastrophically precocious in matters related to sex; worryingly comprehensive knowledge of obscure innuendos; had a crush on Matsudaira-san—
"He's gay?" Kakashi said before he could stop himself.
"Who's gay?" Iruka looked over the folder. "Oh, Naruto's not gay. Read the fourth footnote."
Kakashi did so.
(4) Suo Matsudaira is a stoic man who is often mistaken as a shy woman. The first time he spoke out loud, during an assembly, several people shouted: "HOLY SHIT, SHE'S A GUY!"
"…This Matsudaira-sensei, is he your colleague who has dark red hair?" Kakashi asked.
Iruka nodded. Kakashi was about to let loose a sigh (of relief or disappointment, none would have been able to tell), when Iruka suddenly asked: "Do you have anything against homosexuals?"
Kakashi blinked. "Huh?"
"Do you?" Iruka pressed on.
Kakashi blinked again. "No, not really…" though I did assassinate a few key political figures who were suspected as such. "But then again, I never think about them." except for that one time this morning, and a few seconds ago. "Why do you ask?"
Iruka looked at him, as if gauging his truthfulness. Kakashi commanded himself not to blush while he under the young teacher's scrutiny.
"There is a high possibility Sasuke might be gay, or bisexual."
Silence… then Naruto barreled across the kitchen yelling: "HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!"
Quietly, Kakashi said: "Uchiha Sasuke, gay?"
Iruka nodded. His expression was scrupulously serious, but Kakashi still toyed with the idea that Iruka might be pulling his leg. He couldn't smell anything that suggested the other man was lying, but it was entirely possible the smoke billowing out from the kitchen was masking any smells of sudden perspiration.
"What made you suspect he might be gay?" Kakashi asked.
Iruka fingered his chin. "I taught sex-ed to my class about three months ago. Sasuke wasn't paying attention, but then again, he never paid attention to anything unrelated to ninjutsu. It was when I was going over homosexuality, he started to perk up like this—" Here Iruka did a good impression of what Sasuke would do when something caught his attention: with his elbows on the table, fingers laced together, hands held up to his nose, and leaning over in a brooding slouch, Iruka put his eyes downcast, then slowly looked up, gradually raising his head a little above his clasped hands. The demonstration ended when Iruka started to have a coughing fit from all the smoke.
"At first I thought he was just instinctively reacting to the words 'strong' and 'man'," Iruka eventually continued. "But he kept on listening. So I conducted a little test: I started telling the class several homophobic ideas. Sure enough, Sasuke's shoulders started to tense, and he was glaring spitfire—"
Naruto poked his head out of the kitchen and bellowed: "IRUKA-SENSEI, OPEN THE WINDOWS! YOUR BLOODY FAN BROKE AGAIN!"
"ALL RIGHT!" Iruka bellowed right back. He pressed a big red button on the wall next to the table. All the windows slid open and the ventilation fans started to turn. Wow, neat.
"Anyway, I concluded the little test by telling them most of the ideas were bullshit," Iruka said. "He relaxed in an instant. Then he hung onto my every word while I explained why the ideas were bullshit."
"I see," Kakashi looked down at his forgotten coffee. Then he looked at Iruka. You're good. Damn good. I can see why Sandaime would want you to teach him AND Naruto. But, "Why are you telling me this?"
"If I can figure it out, so can you," Iruka replied. "I wanted to make sure it won't become big problem. Sasuke certainly doesn't need another reason to isolate himself from other people, and you certainly don't have to deal with it alone."
Then Iruka smiled.
Oh no, he's doing it again! Must… resist…
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"LUNCH IS READY!"
Kakashi never thought he would be happy to see Naruto step out of the kitchen. The boy was miraculously unscathed; he wasn't bleeding, or supporting burns, or missing chunks of flesh, let alone body parts. The kitchen didn't look as if it survived random bonfires, explosions and flying cutlery either. How this could be, after all that commotion and noise, was beyond Kakashi's comprehension.
"Dozo," Naruto said as he set down the dishes. Kakashi decided the food looked… edible and food-like. A cynic may argue how food can look anything but food-like, but if they witnessed Konoha's administration canteen food even once, they would eat their words and choke on them.
Kakashi checked his audience once Naruto set down his rice bowl. Naruto had his back turned on him, blathering something about stubborn restaurant owners and the possibility of putting restraining orders on said individuals. Iruka was busy convincing the boy the unlikelihood of such an action, and wasn't looking at him at all. But even if Iruka was facing him, he'd probably close his eyes, as per shinobi home etiquette…so polite and disciplined…
"Itadakimasu," Kakashi muttered under his breath. First he sampled the miso. Mmmmm… Then he sampled the grilled mackerel. Mmmmmmmmm…! He eyed the wide array of side dishes. Half of them he didn't even know what they were, but he decided to try them all. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmmmm…!
"But he's getting really annoying, Iruka-sensei! And what if he barges in while I'm training?"
"Chase him off with a shuriken shower."
"I tried that! I even aimed at him! But he avoided them all— it was damn scary!"
"…Right. Let's figure something out after lunch. Speaking of which, shouldn't you stop filling up your bowl? It's overflowing."
"I'm a growing kid. I need a lot of food." Naruto turned around, and then stopped.
"WHERE DID ALL THE FOOD GO?" he screeched.
Iruka surveyed the table in silence. Then he glared at Kakashi.
Kakashi finished putting his mask back into place. Then, very calmly, he held up his empty rice bowl.
"Okawari."
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TBC
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