My Level 4 Japanese classes are taking a toll on me. I nowadays barely have time left to relax a bit… (Why oh why wasn't I interested in Italian instead?) Yet I managed to update this story in a decent (to my standards) amount of time. I should be working on my book right now anyway… I'm such a bad writer.

Since the last chapter lacked a bit of depth, I decided to make up for it in this chapter. I hope I haven't lost my touch, since I haven't written depth in a while. It might sound a bit boring for some to have so much deep musings at the same time, but I think I might be interesting for others so put up with the action-less chapter for now guys.

This chapter is quite short, I know, but I felt that it was so emotion-packed that it was better to put an end to it quickly, especially since the other part of the chapter is actually going to be quite long. Hopefully I will be updating the second part of "Of Realizations and Discoveries" within the two following weeks. If I don't, then you're going to have to wait until after I come back to Canada because I have final exams and tons of things to do before I leave. I can hardly believe that I'm coming back to Canada in only a month… Have I really been in Japan for 8 months already?! When did that happen?

Enjoy, and tell me what you think about it.

Chapter 19

Of Realizations and Discoveries – Part I

Iruka was staring at his new lesson plan, seemingly deep in thoughts about what subjects he was going to go over with his students when he would resume his function as an academy teacher on Monday morning. Except he was not. He knew he only had three days to re-adjust his previous lesson plans to what his class studied with his substitute, but somehow he wasn't able to concentrate on that task, his thoughts inevitably drifting back to a certain silver-haired man who happened to be sitting two feet away from him. Inwardly sighing, the chuunin glanced discreetly at the Copy nin, who was immersed in yet another book while a small grey kitten slept on his lap contently.

Kakashi would be leaving in three days.

Of course, Iruka was happy about it because it meant he would be able to go back to his normal life – go back to his rowdy students, his teasing coworkers and his long evenings spent alone correcting homework. One would say that he was not all right in his head to long for such an unexciting yet demanding lifestyle, but Iruka was content with it – besides, he was tired of staying home and being unproductive all day, he couldn't wait to be back to work and do something. So of course, since it meant he would go back to his normal life, he was happy that the man was finally leaving.

… Yet, he wasn't.

Iruka's eyes went back to his lesson plan in a futile attempt not to think about it, but he knew it was pointless. He was going to miss the Copy nin. More than anything, he thought he just didn't want to admit it to himself. He had spent countless nights cursing the jounin and had wanted so bad to get rid of him, yet now that the man was about to finally leave, he felt like he was going to miss him? No way. It just couldn't happen… Yet it was happening, somehow. Was it what the Hokage had had in mind when she had ordered him to take care of the Sharigan user? Maybe. But who could have predicted that he was to develop affinities with the Copy nin, of all people – and especially considering their past history?

Frowning, Iruka wondered for what felt like the hundredth time how it had happened. He had tried his best to remain neutral and focus on taking care of the man. Sure, he had tried to help him get a grip on a few social no-noes the man seemed to lack on the way because back then it had seemed to be the right thing to do, but nothing more. He sure hadn't planned to get attached. He hadn't wanted this to happen. Hell, he hadn't even thought that such a thing could happen!

What were they anyway? Friends? No, he wouldn't go as far as to say that. They were far too different. He guessed it was more appropriate to say that they were intimate acquaintances, although he wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to mean. And didn't quite like the sound of it, now that he thought about it… It sounded too much like "fuck friend" to his ears.

That thought made him snort. The thought of him and the prude and mysterious Copy nin shagging the bag was so ridiculously far-fetched that it was almost amusing. Besides, Iruka knew the silver-haired man enough to know that for all his taste for pornographic material, Kakashi was far too innocent – or more accurately too afraid of human contact – to indulge into random sex with a near stranger. The man most probably had never even had sex before… Not that he was one to talk himself, of course. Besides, it really, really wasn't of his business.

Maybe the reason why he was feeling this strange plucking in his chest at the thought of the jounin's fore coming departure was because, at some point during the man's stay, he had started to care about him. Yes, he guessed he cared about the man. Not because he liked him per see, but because he realized that the jounin just didn't mean any harm - he didn't know better most of the time – and felt compelled to help him out. Although if he was to be entirely truthful, Iruka had to admit that Hatake Kakashi could be a rather pleasant man to be around when you got to know him enough to see past his social awkwardness and eccentricities. Nice, even. He was generally considerate of others and honestly cared about his students, in his own twisted kind of way. He was kind, patient and could sometimes be surprisingly amusing, although Iruka always wondered, knowing the man, whether it was on purpose or not. Overall, the brown-haired man guessed that the jounin was quite nice to be around when you knew him.

…Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that things were less boring when the ex-anbu was around. The silver-haired man, with his eccentricities, his small obsessions and his strangely witty humour, had managed to make the academy teacher's dull life less redundant and against all expectations, Iruka had liked it. Not because Kakashi had upset his boring life, but rather because he had not. He knew it sounded strange, but the brown-haired man felt that the jounin had not changed his life, but rather had managed to find a place for himself in it - a place where he belonged, as if that place had always been his to start with. Encrusting himself into the chuunin's routine rather than altering it. And some part of Iruka knew that more than anything else, he was feeling sad at the prospect of loosing a part of his few-found routine that he had come to cherish.

But that thought left the chuunin with a nasty aftertaste, because it implied that it he cared more for his boring routine than he did for the Copy nin. It was plain selfish of him to wish that a man he didn't even see as a friend would continue to hang around at meal times and help him wash the dishes every night because he didn't want to go back to be all by himself again. He wasn't the kind of person to use people to his convenience like that, and he felt guilty for secretly wanting to be entertained without any ties or responsibilities behind it. For not missing the Copy nin himself, but just his presence. But it was stupid of him to have such thoughts, because he didn't want to miss the man. And he sure didn't want to use him either!

Not that it would happen anyway. They would probably part and both go back to their previous life, as if nothing had happened. In the end, all that would change would be that they would say hi to each other as they walked down Konoha's ever so busy streets. Maybe exchange a few comments about the weather and team seven's improvement, but that would be all. And that was the way things were supposed to be.

Then why was that prospect saddening him?

Iruka closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. Maybe he was thinking too much into it. So what if he was feeling kind of bad that Hatake Kakashi was leaving in two days? Life would go on. Always has, always will.

With that somewhat comforting thought in mind, Iruka tried to focus his attention back to more important and urgent matters. Like how he was supposed to fit all those English and math classes his substitute had skipped because he thought they were boring – or more likely couldn't handle forty bored eight year-olds - into his teaching schedule without boring to death his students and therefore busting up the already alarmingly bare reparation budget. Or starting to make diner already, since it was starting to get late.

… Or starting to work on that mission report, Iruka's brain pointed out, and the chuunin's face darkened. He cursed himself for having such a good memory – as if he didn't have enough things on his mind already! Damn Hokage and her way of dealing with things! You don't know if you're gay or not, Umino? Just read some porn and you'll have your answer! Geez, what kind of advice was that?!

And what if he didn't really want to find out? What would it change to suddenly know which way he swung? It was not like he was going to start frequenting gay bars and do some shameless flirting tomorrow morning if he turned out to be gay. He was just fine like he was: overworked, single and mostly asexual. He didn't see why that had to change. And his short experience as a first-choice marriageable man had positively convinced him that he preferred remaining single for the rest of his life rather than to go through another date ever again anyway. So what was the point?

Fuming through his lesson plans, the chuunin tried to ignore the small voice that reminded him of the Hokage's words. What if his reluctance to think it over was in fact some kind of proof of denial? If not, why did he always react so strongly to the mere mention of his hypothetical homosexuality, like the Godaime had pointed out? Hitting Genma because of a bad joke and nearly having a panic attack in front of the Hokage…? And then, there was that dream that had started everything…

Shaking his head to chase those thoughts away, the chuunin sprang up and walked to the kitchen where he tried to busy himself with something. But even as he cooked the rice, cut down the vegetables and started to stir-fry them, he couldn't get rid of the uncanny impression that deep down, he already knew the answer to those questions.

As he watched the slices of pepper and onion roast, his throat started to tighten as the inevitable conclusion dawned on him. He already knew… yet he didn't want to know. No, he didn't. Because he knew there was only one thing he possible couldn't want to know…

Goddammit. He was too old for this. Too old for those stupid pre-teen questions and worries. Too old for getting so fucking upset over it.

But more than anything else, he was too fucking old to realize only now that he was gay! This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. It had to be some kind of bad joke!

The brown-haired man was suddenly brought back to reality as he felt a large, strong hand wrap over his. Startled, the chuunin quickly eyed the pale hand wrapped around his on the pan's handle and looked up to see the Copy nin's body looming over him. Their bodies were so close that he could feel the heat the other man radiated and for a second the man's closeness made his heart pound frenetically.

"K-Kakashi-sensei!" he squealed and the jounin at once let go of his hand and backed away. "What the-?!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"W-what was that for?" Iruka asked nervously, his heart still pounding at the remembrance of the quite unexpected invasion of his personal space.

"I'm sorry. I tried to call you, but you seemed to be distracted… and I thought that you wouldn't want all that good food to go to waste."

Iruka blinked at the Copy nin dumbly a couple of times before shifting his gaze to the pan, where he was shocked to find his stir-fry vegetables looking positively carbonized, emitting a foul-smelling smoke that indicated that any more cooking would probably turn them into a fire hazard. Swearing loudly, Iruka rushed to the sink where he drenched the pan with water, successfully filling his kitchen with hissing sounds and more smoke.

As the hiss of the pan quieted down and that the smoke started to clear, the academy teacher's shoulders and head fell with dejection and the kitchen was plunged into an eerie silence.

"… I guess I should have warned you earlier," Iruka distantly heard the jounin's sheepish apology. "Sorry for that." For some reason, the apology got a low snort out of the brown-haired man.

"Wasn't your fault, Kakashi-sensei. Can't blame you for stopping me 'cause I'm too much of a jerk to notice I'm about to burn down my kitchen, can't I?"

Cautiously, Kakashi approached the obviously upset man slumping over the sink. "Maa, it's just a few burnt vegetables. It's not such a big deal, sensei."

For a long moment, the chuunin remained motionless, staring at the drenched stir-fry helplessly. Then his eyes started to water and he closed them furiously, refusing to let jounin see him cry. He wouldn't cry. Had he sunk so low as to cry over some stupid carbonized slices of pepper like a baby? It didn't matter that those stupid burnt vegetables were nagging him, reminding him how his whole life seemed to be falling apart and all the things that had once made sense to him were slipping between his hands as he watched helplessly. He wouldn't cry over them. It was already bad enough to have the same stupid plights as a hormone-ridden teen, he wasn't going to break down into tears like a five year-old. They would not rob him of his dignity.

Behind him, the chuunin heard the Sharigan user speak up on an unusually sober and serious tone.

"Iruka-sensei. What's wrong?"

Blinking away the tears, Iruka looked up and his mouth twisted into an unhappy, bitter smile. "Me, I guess."

From the corner of his eyes, Iruka saw the Sharigan user stare at him with concern, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what he was supposed to say to make things better. Of course, someone like Kakashi wouldn't know how to deal with a problem like that. But then again, he didn't have a clue himself what to feel anymore anyway. The whole scene seemed so ironic to the brown-haired man that he couldn't help but let out a short, bitter laugh.

"Stupid, isn't it? To pity you for being such a fucked-up mess when I'm just as bad as you in the end. What a bunch of fucked-up retards we are, huh…"

The academy teacher had muttered those last words with spite, feeling bitter toward life for always making things so damn difficult for him, no matter how hard he tried. As soon as they were out of his mouth though, he regretted them – no matter how bitter and angry he felt, taking it out on the Copy nin like that was just low. The chuunin looked away.

God, I'm such an ass.

"Shit. Kakashi… I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

At a loss for words, the brown-haired man suddenly felt extremely tired. He was tired of running, tired of always trying his best, tired of having everything always backfiring at him no matter how hard he tried. So tired that words didn't seem to mean much right then, and somehow he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. So he just let things happen and waited in silence for the jounin's reaction, ready to take whatever the man could come up with.

He hadn't known what kind of answer to expect out of the silver-haired man. Yet once again, the ex-anbu managed to surprise him.

"Maa, comparing me to you…? I didn't know that you could be so mean, sensei. To think they say you're such a nice guy."

Looking up, Iruka gaped at the older man. The chuunin had expected him to be looking down on him with that fake curved eye of his after what he had just said, but was surprised with the sight that met him. Instead of having the fake, sarcastic attitude Iruka had expected to be confronted with, Hatake Kakashi stood in front of him calmly with a gentile yet mildly teasing expression on his half-covered face. The masked man emitted an aura of content tranquility that first disconcerted, then soothed the chuunin. He then realized it was the man's way of expressing what he couldn't put into words.

Kakashi cared. And he didn't care.

And for some reason, it meant a great deal to the teacher.

Iruka's mouth stretched into a hesitant smile and let out a shaky laugh, his eyes watering up again. "They do, don't they? I don't know why. I never pretended to be a nice guy."

The jounin tilted his head and smiled some more at his caretaker. "But you're not a nice guy, Iruka-sensei. You're a good guy."

Wiping away his tears with his hand, Iruka snorted. "That's the problem, you see."

"But maybe for once you could do an exception and be nice enough to order take-out? Because I don't think eating soaked, carbonized stir-fry was part of the Hokage's recommendations."

Somehow, Iruka couldn't help but laugh. Sending a side-glance at the burnt dinner, the chuunin decided to just give up. The Hokage could shove that stupid mission of her up her honourable ass.

"You know what? For this time, I might do an exception. You prefer fried chicken or pizza?"

To his amusement, the jounin positively beamed at him.

"Either way is fine, as long as they don't come with cranberry juice."

To be continued. Comments are always appreciated.