To answer some of the reviews : no, English is not my native language, I only learn it for eight years now. If you catch huge mistakes, tell me where, it will only ameliorate my writing and your reading.
Kakashi promised to himself that he would never step outside the shelter of his apartment on a festival day again.
The music and noise were not that bad, once he gave up the idea of sleeping all day long. The crowd… well, it was a festival day, wasn't it ? It was normal to see so much people in the streets and in front of the shops.
No, the thing that bothered him most was the all set.
The people, shinobi and civilians alike, in bright festival clothes, mostly kimono, blocking the streets and the shops, singing, shouting to each other to be heard, the kids running and bouncing everywhere shrieking, dragging tiny multicolored kites behind them, musicians and such in the middle of the streets adding their music to the noise.
If it was not bad enough, Kakashi, wearing his uniform since he rarely ever had the use of another type of clothes, stood like a sore thumb in the streets of Konoha.
He was walking as usual, through the crowd, not feeling like jumping from roof to roof, hands in his pockets, not very fast nor slow, and looking for a shop which would not be too packed for him to buy something to eat.
Groceries will have to wait, at least until tomorrow. If he will feel like going out tomorrow that is, and not like being glued to the monument all day long or staying hidden under his blankets enjoying a full day of sleep without a festival going on under his window.
He grabbed some takiyaki from a stand two streets from the hospital, and ate them, nearly inhaling them in the process, before stepping in the building.
For someone who was coming from outside, the white building was strangely quiet. Kakashi saw it as a shelter from the ruckus outside. He walked slowly into the nearly deserted hallways and corridors, save for the minimal medical staff. He figured everyone was at the festival.
Every year, this particular event was growing bigger and bigger, even dragging shinobi from allied villages to Konoha, people who had had only heard of the Kyuubi – or of the attack. The festival was slowly but inexorably losing from sight its first purpose : remember the ones who fall and gave their lives for Konoha to live, the Yondaime in the first rows of those.
Kakashi sighed. He had noticed, the two times he had been able to go in Konoha with Naruto around and from what he had been able to understand from the one-word answers on this subject from the usually chatty boy, that this particular day had been more and more difficult every year for Naruto – and especially since he knew the truth.
Kakashi caught himself hoping that Naruto would enjoy his birthday for once, like a fourteen-years-old boy should enjoy his birthday, since he was away from Konoha.
Then Kakashi was standing in front of the same door that was slightly ajar two weeks before. Tough this time, it was closed.
He suddenly felt stupid. For all he knew, maybe the Chuunin was not even in the same room… he should have asked when entering… but to whom ? The entrance lady had not been there. She had probably go outside, in the crowd that seemed to focus all of Konoha population.
He slowly breathed, searching for the barest trace of chakra that would inform him of whom was in the room. He felt a tiny one, one that was feeling like the Chuunin.
He lifted a hand from his pocket, knocking softly at the door. No response. He knocked again before opening.
"Iruka-sensei?"
There had not had a lot of change in two weeks. Same bare room. He noticed a chair against the wall.
The Chuunin laying on the bed was obviously asleep – Kakashi could tell from the closed eyes, the slow, deep and quiet rise and fall of his chest – still hocked to IV, his left arm still hidden by a plaster cast.
The only detail of importance was that there were books with bookmarks on the nightstand, a book open on Umino's chest, a pen waiting for use on a workbook in his free hand.
Kakashi closed the door, careful not to wake the guy, before dragging the chair a bit closer from the bed, in order to be able to see and survey the window, the door and the room. Old habits died hard. Especially since he was reminded of their lifesaver use nearly everyday.
He smiled, an emotion lost to anyone behind his mask. Umino was only asleep this time if he was already working; not… well, here-but-not-here like before.
By the window could be seen the multicolored kites that were dancing in the skies above the roofs of Konoha. Kakashi briefly wondered how many ANBU squads were assigned to keep an eye on the festival and its numerous guests.
He seated himself on the chair, taking his infamous orange-covered book out of a pocket. The perverted part of his mind was wishing that Jirayia would still have time to write, even with Naruto around to train. Then he buried his nose in the book.
He wondered how long it would take Umino to wake up. Bah, Kakashi had all the time in the world today. He could wait.
Not a part that will answer that many of the questions… next part should.
Self Advertisement: my other fic originally in French is now available in English : "A shinobi is a high school student like an other". It's a AU urban rather dark fic, written from Kakashi POV. The first part is up in English and the second one should follow soon.