It was the last class before lunch, and Iruka was about to shoot something. Or someone.
Or a lot of someones.
Everything he'd thought at the start of the day about that day not being hell had been completely and utterly wrong. Homeroom had been fine. First class of the day, fine. For some reason though, this class had decided to go to hell in a hand basket. Really, what was it about grammar that inspired such unrelenting madness in the minds of sophomores?! At the mere mention of the word "prepositions" the class had gone to hell in a hand basket, and poor, frazzled Iruka could do nothing to control his class. He'd tried yelling at them, he'd tried threatening detentions, but nothing seemed to be able to reign in the chaos of the tenth grade English class. Really, it was making him miss the comparative maturity of his junior-class homeroom, and Iruka would be the first to tell you that precious few of them were actually any semblance of the word.
As it was, paper balls were being thrown across the class room, and Iruka let out a resigned sigh, sinking into his seat. At this point, there was nothing he could do but start making a list of parents to call and pray that the bell would ring or someone would save him.
Which is why Iruka couldn't believe it when the door slammed open. For a second, he was worried, thinking that it was another teacher coming to complain. Then, the worry grew to mortification as he realized that the teacher at his door was none other than his silver-haired crush, Kakashi. He groaned. The class had to have been damn near explosive in volume if it got the aloof, nonchalant-about-everything Kakashi to leave his…wait, wasn't he supposed to be in planning? He didn't have a class this block.
Iruka stared in confusion as Kakashi strode into the room, over to him. He stood up to meet him, and opened his mouth to apologize.
Kakashi cupped a hand to his ear and leaned in close to Iruka.
"What is that, Iruka-sensei?" He leaned a little closer. "I can't seem to hear you over all of the noise." Iruka blushed, thinking that Kakashi was scolding him or something in his usual indirect fashion.
Only then the man turned around to the class, took a deep breath, and,
"Quiet!" he shouted, his voice the perfect volume to cut through all of the noise. Heads snapped forward and mouths clamped shut as they all focused their complete attention on the smiling sensei.
Iruka's face felt so hot he thought he would get second degree burns. Can you die of a heat stroke from your own face? He wondered miserably. It was touching, though, that Kakashi would do something for him.
"Now," Kakashi said, his voice back to its normal volume. "What were you saying?" the smile on Kakashi's face, which pulled his uncovered eye into a curve.
Iruka stammered. "Erm, I wanted to apologize for their behavior, if it disturbed you."
Kakashi's smile stayed in place, and he slouched so that he and Iruka were at the same height. "No, Iruka-sense, I do believe they are the ones that should be apologizing, and not to me." He turned to the class. "Did you hear that? I think you all owe Iruka-sensei an apology."
Everyone in the class knew better than to get on Kakashi-sensei's bad side. He was always smiling, but behind that smile, there was a certain…darkness, that even the students could pick up on. There were rumors that he had been some sort of special agent before his time as a teacher, and that he could kill you just as soon as look at you.
An immediate, stereo "Sorry, Iruka-sensei" rang out through the class and Kakashi nodded.
"And I'm sure they'll be on their best behavior from now on, isn't that right?"
"Yes Kakashi-sensei!" they all shouted quickly. Kakashi nodded to them and then turned around to Iruka-sensei.
"Well," he said, adjusting the bandana that slanted across his left eye, concealing all but the very ends of the scar that stretched above and below the cloth. "I was actually stopping by to borrow a pen, since mine seems to be out of ink," he produced his own pen with a flourish, holding it out to Iruka. Iruka was painfully aware of the twenty eyes watching him, so he took Kakashi's pen, and grabbed one off of his desk, handing it to the younger teacher.
"Here," he supplied dumbly, thankful that his hand didn't shake, and that he managed not to faint long thin fingers brushed against his own as the other accepted the pen.
"Thank you very much, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, his eye twisting into a crescent. "Well, see you around," he said with a smile, waving to Iruka and to the class, and ducking out the door.
Confused by the turn of events, Iruka could only stare at the pen in his hand…
Which it seemed was full of ink.
Outside the room, Kakashi chuckled a little to himself, sliding the pen Iruka had given him into the pocket of his jeans. He was pretty sure that the kids wouldn't be giving the gentle teacher any more trouble, but just in case, he would keep an ear on it.
Sliding into his desk of his own classroom, right beside Iruka's, he pulled his book from his drawer and kicked back. Planning blocks were his favorite of the day. Then again, he did like his junior class this year. They were…interesting. The rest of it was just so mundane that sometimes he wondered if it had really been a good idea to let Kiiro drag him along when he quit Spec. Ops and take up teaching of all things. He stifled those thoughts. Kiiro always had the best in mind, even if Kakashi couldn't see it. He honestly wasn't sure if he could go back to Spec. Ops after what had happened those five years ago.
Still, this was much more mundane than anything he had ever predicted he would do. Teaching math and science to a bunch of kids, most of whose greatest life tragedy was when their dog god run over, was not what he would've considered a career path of choice. And seriously, math and science? Just because he was good at all of it didn't mean he liked it. Of course, English wouldn't be good because he was much too cynical to provide school-appropriate commentary on any of the literature they read. He couldn't teach music because the only thing he knew how to play was the piano, and that had just been because Kiiro thought music might make him a little less angry as a person. Not that he felt he was angry as a person, he was just humoring the guy.
Let's see, what did that leave? Philosophy? Again, too cynical. Economics? Hahah, yeah, no. Politics? To hell with them all, they're all idiots anyway. Gym? He'd thought about it, actually, but according to Kiiro, his standards of physical conditioning were a bit different from the school district's.
That left the completely detached, straightforward aspects of math and science. So that was what he taught. It was sad though, when you graduated top of your class in everything, and math and effing science were the only things you were good enough to teach. Of course, he had to be pretty good at all of that, being the head of the department in the school after only two years.
He turned the page in his book, but sighed and sat it back down. So today was going to be one of those thinking days, huh? At the risk of sounding like a certain student of his, it was a drag.
He had enjoyed the delicious looking blush that had spread across Iruka's face when he'd told off those kids for him. He really wished he'd stuck around long enough to see Iruka's face when he figured out that the pen had just been a last second idea to give himself an excuse to stop in. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The other sensei, knowing the way Kakashi's intentions usually worked out, probably would've laughed at it or something. That would've just been his luck. Things rarely worked out for Kakashi, after all.
But hey, at least it made for some interesting daydreams.