It was one of those evenings that Yuka had no choice but to work late. The sun sank uncomfortably low into the sky. Footsteps of other teachers echoed through the halls outside – every sound seemed a little louder. Schools weren't really meant to be this empty.

Despite that, she was in a decent mood. Tomorrow was Saturday, and for once, she would have that day for something other than chores and lesson plans. She had a suspicion that Kakashi would be fun to drink with. Not that she planned on getting drunk! Keeping it friendly and casual was the goal. But… if anything did happen between them while they were reasonably sober… that could be fun.

No doubt they'd both communicate their intentions. It was hard to tell if Yuka and Kakashi were especially modern, or if they were just too awkward to lean into the traditional 'dance' of courtship. Frankly, she hated the idea of having a man chasing her. Why not just say what you want? He seemed to understand, which is why…

A knock. Two shadows waited outside the classroom door.

Ah. Right.

Yuka was going to meet with the parents of a girl who skipped a few grades. Setsuko Kobayashi, a precocious creative-writer type. Very smart kid. She also still liked dolls, got frustrated easily and was missing her old friends from the younger classes.

The practice of accelerating certain students had benefits and many unrecognized drawbacks. Konoha's schooling system emphasized 'natural talent' to a creepy, ideological level.

It was worse, once upon a time.

Years ago, Konoha placed civilian students in classes based purely on IQ. Under the old system, a five-year-old could easily end up in a classroom full of teenagers if she were evaluated as 'highly advanced'. Children risked losing their education entirely if they fell behind. Perceived outcomes and potential benefit to society crushed any concern for the student itself. This system mirrored the selection of shinobi within the 'Academy'.

Not long after the Third War, civilian schools saw drastic reforms. Age took equal priority to academic level. The same subject could be taught at multiple difficulties. 'Lesser' students were given additional paths towards enrichment, apprenticeship, and certifications. Social development had to be seriously considered before their education was accelerated.

(The Shinobi Selection System and the Academy, from what Yuka was able to glean from the covers of newspapers at the time, was unaltered save for a few regulations. Apparently, that was controversial. Teenage Yuka was too busy looking cool and being angry about politics to pay attention to… politics.)

Developmental milestones were supposed to mean something on an institutional level.

Unless a child just seemed so, so smart and, oh come on, what's the worst that could happen? We can't hold children back by coddling them! Let the Headmaster sign the paperwork – this one could finish a medical certification by twenty. His career could last seven years longer than the typical student. Think of the benefit to our village!

The system changed but the culture didn't.

Fucking vultures.

These educational reforms were the best thing the Hokage Sarutobi ever did in his villainous career, and people mostly resented them. Even Kakashi threw in a little snipe about schools 'rewarding mediocrity'.

Enter the parents of Setsuko Kobayashi, the nine-year-old middle-schooler who couldn't understand why the older girls didn't want to be friends with her.

Ms. Yuka Tanaka found this sort of thing depressing, but she hid it well. She sat behind her desk with a list of notes. There were plenty of positive things to say about Setsuko. The material was right at her level. She answered a lot of questions in class before a boy made a snotty comment about her talking too much.

Other students just… ignored her.

"Oh, well that's normal, isn't it? I didn't expect them to understand Setsuko. She has an easier time talking to adults," Setsuko's mother smiled, "You said she wrote a high-school level essay in class, right?"

"Right, but –"

"Well, let's see it!" the father demanded genially.

"She is smart, and she works very hard," Yuka was always careful to praise effort, "But I remember being asked to report on how she's adjusting to this class, and I'm a little worried about how she's getting along with the other kids."

"Are you saying something's wrong with her?"

"Not at all, she's just a little younger than the others. See, there's different kinds of advanced children. Some of them are more mature than others of their age. Setsuko seems to be talented in areas of language, but she's emotionally still more like a typical nine-year-old. Most of my students are twelve," Yuka said as diplomatically as possible.

This was the exact opposite of what these people wanted to hear. It didn't even mean Setsuko would be taken out of the class. Some parents had an uncompromising mental image of their children. They wanted a prodigy to be proud of, not a gifted but vulnerable little girl.

Few things infuriated Yuka more than the popular narrative of the child genius: glassy-eyed non-children, miniature adults blessed through genetics or fate with infinite potential. Assets for the village. Prestige. In Konoha, the consequences for such attitudes were all too real.

"We get the final say on whether she stays in these classes, though," the father pressed, "How are her grades?"

That was true, so long as Setsuko continued to do well.

She was on her way to getting an A+ in Ms. Tanaka's writing class. And there was no reason to think she was doing poorly academically anywhere else, either.

"They're perfect. She hasn't missed an assignment."

"She could be doing higher level work than this," the mother sniffed, "But this'll have to do."

With that, the real conversation was over. Cheerfully, the parents stood up and started to make small talk about the upcoming festivals as they all left the classroom together.

Yuka grabbed her light jacket and tossed it over her arm. By late afternoon, it was too warm to wear.

She would take a longer route home. Walking cleared her head. Sometimes.

…

On a Friday afternoon like this, the streets were full of people trying to walk home. A river of pedestrians flowed north and west into the surrounding neighborhoods. Food carts made the air sweet and savory. They threatened to tempt anyone taking that road. Why not spend a little extra money on a bowl of noodles?

And if the food carts didn't get you, the people handing out samples in front of the local cafes would. So much food in Konoha. Yuka lived there for years, and it still seemed a little insane. Fun, but insane.

Yuka's stomach growled. When she was a teenager, she used to roam around taking free samples, letting that be her meal for the night.

A portly man with a thick, handle-bar mustache grinned at her, "Hey, hey, hey! You look like you want a chicken stick! Or a nice hot bowl of miso soup, eh?" he pointed at the three-story café behind him, "This is the Legendary Three Dragon Eats. Each level is themed off a different dragon."

That sounded kitschy as hell and possibly overpriced.

Yuka's attention got pulled to a familiar voice.

"Please don't touch the glass without gloves. You don't want to make wiping the windows even harder."

Yuka glanced over the sample-man's shoulder. But there wasn't anything to see, just the doors of the café.

Finally, she looked up.

A black-haired boy washed third-floor windows, holding onto the ledges above with one hand.

"Also, that's too much strain on your wrist. Do you know what would happen if you tried to hold that position for half an hour or more? You'd slip. Your legs are stronger than your left hand – just a suggestion."

The boy sighed and adjusted accordingly, finding support beneath his feet.

It was a little comedic just how recognizable Kakashi was. Covering most of his face only made his identity more obvious. He crouched on the slope of the roof, oddly comfortable. Not even paying attention to his footwork, let alone the height of the building.

"Uh, so sensei," a boy in an orange jumpsuit crawled up and across the building from the second level like an ant, "Are you gonna put the book down and help us?"

Reading?

Kakashi glanced up from whatever he was engrossed in. He'd better help those kids! Washing windows for a commercial building was really hard work. Who in their right mind would make a kid do that?

And maybe he was about to help, but before he did, he looked down onto the street below.

Quick, Yuka! Duck behind the cart!

Wait, no.

Don't do that.

How long had she been watching them?

No doubt he saw her. Kakashi stood on that sloped roof. Ugh. He did it so casually, too. As though to say: What are you looking at? It's only three floors.

They stared at each other.

"Hey! Hey! Don't space out on us!" the kid scrambled to the roof.

Kakashi tapped his chin, deep in thought, "Eh? Did you say something?" Before anyone could complain, he tilted his head into a smiling gesture, "Give Sensei a moment, Naruto. I'm processing information."

"'Processing information', yeah, right."

Well. Ms. Yuka Tanaka certainly wouldn't allow one of her students to talk to her like that. Then again, she wouldn't ask them to scale a three-floor commercial building and wash every window, either.

It wasn't as though he was secretive about meeting in public. Would he acknowledge Yuka in front of his students, though? Should he? Even in a civilian school filled with people to socialize with, kids occasionally gossiped about teachers. 'Ooh-la-la! Mr. Kawaguchi was seen giving the new geology teacher coffee. They're always talking during lunch hour! We're bored so that means they're dating."

Kakashi's single 'class' taught only three students. Three students who lacked any other instructor.

The horrifying possibility of Kakashi getting badgered by overly familiar 'underlings' about his personal life sank in. Maybe that was just the anxiety talking. Any instructor worth a damn knew how to deflect invasive questions from kids. Hell, it really wasn't a big deal if they knew he had a female friend. Say hi, Yuka.

What if it was different for ninja, though? What were their norms?

"You alright?" the portly man asked.

This had been going on for a few seconds too many. The situation was now thoroughly odd, even to outsiders. Yuka was a grown fucking woman! It shouldn't be that hard to just decide if she's going to say hello or not. Do it! Do it now, Yuka!

"Hey there!" she waved.

"Who's that, sensei?"

"Naruto, come back here! You're not getting out of this that easy!" a girl snipped.

Yuka was certified in teaching, not uncertain social situations. She turned and left, wondering why she had to stop at all. What was she looking at? It's only three floors. Nothing to see but a man and three kids scale a building as easily as lizards.

Saturday was only an evening away. Damn. That was awkward. Maybe Kakashi wouldn't show up at all.