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A Lesson In Respect

Red coloring slowly filled the face of the pony-tailed teacher sitting at the desk.

"This is the third late report this month, Hatake-san. I doubt that I will even be able to read your hand-writing! Why is it so crumpled? That is so unprofessional! I can't accept this!" The words came calmly at first, building up to a near screech as the last sentence tumbled out. The other Ninja in the crowded Mission Room hardly noticed; this kind of outburst was common when the two men came in contact of each other.

"Relax, Iruka-sensei. There is really no need to jump up my ass about it," the bored-looking Jounin said as he slouched lazily, left hand stuffed in the pocket of his dark uniform pants and right hand busy with that glaring orange book. And with this last bit of disrespect, Iruka snapped.

"I wouldn't have thought there was room for me in there, with your big head already crammed up it," came the retort. "Really, just because you are famous doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you want! You, especially, need to set a good example for the other Ninja! You can't even fill out a report properly; what business do you have instructing Konoha's youth? How can you be trusted with the lives of others when the simplest of tasks are too much for you?!"

The entire room became silent, horrified looks plastered on the faces of Shinobi and Kunoichi, all eyes on the two men at the desk.

As the realization of what had just transpired dawned on the Chuunin, his complexion quickly drained to a deathly white and his eyes shut tight, while tan hands immediately covered his treacherous mouth.

Oh God, he thought, waiting for the infamous chidori to blast him to shreds, there was so much in life I hadn't experienced yet. This is how I am to die? How humiliating. What will Naruto think? That poor kid. I promised him ramen when he got back from his mission. Oh, well, maybe Kakashi will take him. Naruto seems to prefer that bastard more than me now, anyways.

As Iruka's thoughts began to turn bitter, he realized that the death blow had yet to come. He cracked one eye open to determine what was delaying his imminent demise. The white-haired man standing before him did not look angry; he looked... shocked. His jaw was agape under his ever-present mask and his visible eye was wide open. He wasn't moving in the slightest; no reaction other than the surprise that someone would talk back to him, especially someone that the ex-anbu member clearly out-ranked.

Lovely. I broke Konoha's number 1 ninja. This is getting better and better.

"Ah... Hatake-san?" Iruka questioned, pulling his hands away from his mouth. When no answer came he lowered his hands completely and began to apologize, standing and bowing deeply.

"I am so sorry, that was inappropriate. I have no excuse."

Still no response.

Iruka lifted his head to look at the Jounin, who was standing still as a... well, a scarecrow. His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, which read 5:27.

The Ninja in the Mission Room seemed to break out of the trance and escaped through the doors, pushing each other out of the way in hopes of quickly evading the tension in the room.

"Please excuse me. My shift has ended and I have somewhere to be. Again, I sincerely apologize," the brown-haired man said shakily, averting his eyes as he stood straight and began to edge towards the door. At the doorway he stopped and looked back at Kakashi, but he was in the same position he had been in for the last 10 or so minutes. Iruka turned and fled.

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Kakashi finally had recovered enough to make it back to his apartment at around 6:00. The ninja in Konoha had become so rude; while he was standing at the front desk, no less than 4 people had poked and/or prodded him. Was it so unusual for a man to ponder on life standing at the front of a line for half an hour? He was a genius for God's sakes. Geniuses have been known to do eccentric things on occasion. Okay, to be fair, they were probably just concerned citizens making sure he hadn't mysteriously died and was spreading toxic spores through a wound in his body made by an enemy village. But his point remains valid.

He fell face-forward onto the battered couch that rested against the wall of his messy apartment, trying to sort out his plethora of racing thoughts and hurt feelings.

How dare he insult me so blatantly? That little- No, I don't care. He never liked me and he never will. It's no big deal. Lots of people dislike me, hell, most hate me enough to try to assassinate me. Get used to it. Besides, everything he said was the truth.

Another voice began to speak up, from deep within the center of his being.

You do so care, you jerk. Stop lying to yourself; he's different. It doesn't matter if the whole village thinks you are a perverted, lazy, smart-ass, just not him. You have been fascinated by that man since the first time he contradicted you.

That memory stood out in his mind more than any other conversation he had ever had in his life. No one had ever doubted his knowledge training the new Genin, even when he was on his kick of failing all of them for fun. The fact that a common school-teacher would argue with the Copy-Nin lit a spark in his soul that Kakashi hadn't felt since he was a child. The spark of welcome conflict, of delicious friction of the two personalities clashing.

His quiet musing was interrupted by a timid knocking at the front door. Startled, Kakashi whipped a kunai out of the holster wrapped around his upper leg and sprung into battle stance.

It took only a few seconds for Kakashi to realize that he simply had a visitor at his door. He stalked over to the door and looked out the small peephole to see a face he had memorized through months of observing the Mission Room and classrooms.

Strange enough that someone would bother to come see me, but Iruka? Did he come to apologize more? I don't know if I can handle that. Whenever I try to get along with him I end up making an even bigger fool of myself.

Outside, Iruka shifted nervously, his deep brown eyes glancing around him to ensure that he was safe in this unfamiliar territory, while that sweet blush spread across his cheeks.

Oh, God, he looks good.

Kakashi took a deep breath, and opened the door.

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Just as the relief that no one was home was flowing over him, Iruka heard a single click of a lock and the door opened to reveal a nonchalant Kakashi, not at all surprised to see the Chuunin school teacher standing in the entryway.

Okay. I can do this.

Iruka bowed his head deeply and began to recite his prepared speech.

"Uh... Good evening, Hatake-san. I wanted to apologize for my behavior this afternoon. I realize that with all the difficult missions you are always on, it must be nearly impossible to keep your reports tidy and to turn them in early. I will no longer complain about the state of your papers, and I hope that you can forgive me for my foolish temperament."

Kakashi just watched him silently. When the apology was through, Iruka raised his head and studied Kakashi. However, he saw no response in the small amount of exposed features, and decided it was useless..

"Come in for a bit."

Iruka's backward movement stopped abruptly as he stared at the white-haired man in front of him, right eye curved into a smile.

Is this some kind of trick? Kakashi never has visitors. If I go in there, maybe it will spring a trap complete with paralysis darts, and then he will draw on my face with permanent marker and send me back out and then I'll have to go to school like that-

"Well?"

Iruka snapped back to reality and noticed that Kakashi was holding the door wide open for him to enter. He stepped inside cautiously, and when nothing happened to him, he turned to the Jounin, nodding.

"Thank you, Hatake-san."

"Kakashi," he corrected. "Come on, I'll get us something to drink."

He motioned to the sofa, and Iruka walked over to it and sat down. Kakashi was now in the kitchen, and Iruka could hear soft clanking sounds of glasses and bottles.

"You're lucky; I was just preparing some sake. Here," he chirped happily, while handing the nervous man a small porcelain dish.

Iruka took it and tried to relax as Kakashi poured the warm liquid into both of the cups, then sat in the cushioned armchair adjacent to the couch.

"So... You aren't angry about what I said?" Iruka timidly questioned.

Kakashi looked over at the younger man blankly, nothing registering even slightly on his pale face.

"You know, at the Mission Room?" Iruka said, a bit confused.

"Maa... Don't worry about something as trivial as that. People have said worse to me before. I can handle a little criticism," Kakashi stated, still smiling under the mask.

The Chuunin flinched inwardly at the casual tone. Kakashi spoke of the horrible things Iruka had accosted him with as though he really didn't care, but had he known the taller man more intimately, he might have heard the minuscule catch in his voice and seen the hint of depression concealed in his eyes.

"But it wasn't true. I was just caught up in the moment and let myself go. No one should be disrespected like that," Iruka tried explaining, but Kakashi just waved his hand, indicating his boredom with the subject.

"I don't care, Iruka-sensei. Really. Now let's just enjoy ourselves for a bit."

Finally starting to feel comfortable in his new surroundings, Iruka settled into the couch and took a long sip of the soothing drink in his hand.

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