Day 4: Fleeting thoughts

As the chilly morning crept over the slumbering Hidden Village of Konoha, and as the ones assigned on the guard duty stretched their sore and stiff muscles while shaking off the condensed morning dew from their gear before setting off to give their reports and then hitting their beds after a long night...

...there sat a seething man on a wooden terrace, who, for the first time in his active chuunin career, was plotting a mutiny against his Hokage.

The dark eyes glared at the yellowish liquid that swirled in his small cup, and for a moment Iruka mused that if he kept on failing with his steeps at the current speed he might as well switch to coffee. That stuff was at least honest with its bad taste.

Thinking about the said other beverage brought darker clouds upon his head despite the clear morning sky as his thoughts took a sharp turn towards the small, innocent bottle standing on a shelf few dozen feet away behind the bathroom doors.

Talk about bad taste, indeed.

He had thought that the Hokage would be more considerate with her subordinates.

Sure, they had sore shoulders, stiff backs and their thighs have certainly seen better days, but the oily surprise was rubbing the tanned teacher in the wrong way so hard it was nowhere near relaxing. Tsunade knew her shinobis even better than they usually did, so why use that knowledge to make them uncomfortable? As for what Iruka could tell from last night, even Kakashi was slightly miffed from her stunt, even though the man's words told otherwise. The chuunin felt his cheeks heat up at the last sentence the silver-haired pervert had said before things got again out of hands, after which Iruka had to go to sleep with only half of his sandwich filling his stomach.

Damn that jounin and the man's way of getting so effortlessly under his tan skin.

The chuunin gave a long, silent sigh and set his tired eyes to look at the still darkly hued sky that slowly turned lighter in the horizon as the inevitable new day dawned upon his grumpy figure. He took a sip, winced at the bitter taste, sighed yet again and then his eyes caught on the washed laundry that he had folded neatly next to him. Particularly the freshly washed and now dry dark mask placed on top of the clothes, an unfortunate piece of cloth that had to be soaked five times to get the fish-scent out of the fabric [1]. Tentatively, the teacher reached out, took the mask in his hand and ran his thumb on the smooth fabric. He had never thought that the cocky copy-nin, who didn't seem like a man who'd care much about his looks, would use custom made masks of bamboo and silk. Then again, having wool or nylon would be downright idiotic to wear on one's face on daily basis. Having silk was smart and practical, since the fibers were smooth and they breathed enough, not to mention they held humidity and warmth in check in various climate conditions. The bamboo fiber was a good companion for the other for the similar qualities, plus for making the mask stretch and giving enough friction for the fabric to stay on one's face. Nothing less to be expected from the village's infuriating genius.

Did the man have special winter masks, though?

His brooding mood aside, a small, amused snort escaped Iruka at the thoughts of the elite nin doing his shopping in the shinobi supply store. He put down his tea and stretched the mask in his both hands to give it a better look. A small, albeit not so annoyed anymore, frown formed on his face as he took in consideration all the gossips, bets, legends and assumptions he had been unfortunate enough to bump into while working as a shinobi, moreover as a teacher and a mission room paper pusher. Why would people fuss so much over such a tiny piece of cloth? His frown deepened and Iruka took another sip from his ruined tea, noting absently that cooling badly brewed beverages certainly didn't do anything to salvage them, as he realized that ever since they started living under the same roof, he had not once tried to steal a glance at the currently sleeping shinobi's face. Not that there weren't any perfect opportunities presented to him almost frequently during their meals when Kakashi took the mask down to have a bite or a drink before pulling it back up, not to mention while sparring or when they undressed for shower.

Why didn't he fuss over it?

A sound of light snoring caught his ears and Iruka gave a short glance through the terrace doors at their closed bedroom doors. After a moment's listening, he once again concentrated on the cloth in his hands, and before any of his logical brain cells could stop the man and give him a valid reason or five to reconsider the following action, Iruka pulled the mask over his head and on his face. The overly fresh scent of laundry liquid was the first to attack his nostrils and the tanned man had only a second's time to pull the cloth down from his face before an abrupt sneeze echoed in the otherwise silent backyard. He instantly shot a wary look at the direction of their bedroom, but the jounin's snoring continued without any changes in its pattern and the chuunin felt his shoulders slump slack from their sudden tension. He gave a sniff and rubbed his scarred nose vigorously to make it stop itching before slowly placing the black cloth back on his face. Then he leaned back a little, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths through the fabric, while noting that the faint scent of morning dew became slightly muffled due to the blocking fibers and his skin prickled a bit for the strange feeling of having something covering it. Then again, if he remembered correctly, Kakashi was said to have a sense of smell good enough to rival his ninken, and Inuzukas for that matter.

Besides, using the mask since childhood had in no doubt made it become like a second skin for the older man.

Carefully, Iruka ran his fingers across his scar that was neatly hidden just under the mask's edge, the fabric retracing almost identically the marred skin underneath it. The coincidental fact had always humored the tanned man, since it was something that not many paid any attention to, and for a brief moment the teacher had to wonder if it really was so strange for them two to interact between each other, albeit in a clearly unorthodox manner. As for him not caring about the pervert's face, Iruka could feel a small, lopsided smile find its way on his now masked lips as the reason he already knew came to his mind.

After all, they all wore masks among their peers.

"Black suits you well, sensei."

As the chuunin's masked cheeks reached the whole new degrees of temperature, Kakashi idly wondered if it would be physiologically possible to suffer a self-caused heat stroke, moreover set silk and bamboo on fire through mere skin contact.

Faster than a blink, Iruka brought his hands to his face in order to pull the suddenly scalding mask away from his figure, but two strong hands reached from behind and snatched his hands in a firm grip, thus preventing him from removing the cloth from his face.

"Maa, it seems that I caught myself a naughty chuunin", a low, annoyed voice rumbled next to Iruka's now deep red ear and the following ominous chuckle caused a chilling shudder travel down his spine. Kakashi took both of the tanned wrists into his one hand and the other disappeared from the field of Iruka's vision, thus efficiently increasing the nervousness of the captured academy teacher. "I wonder what sort of punishment would be in order. Any suggestions, sensei?"

Feeling something with thin, sharp edge pressing against one's spine would have made a lesser man beg for mercy by now, and after Iruka recognized the object pressing on his tenth vertebra in an uncomfortable manner, he really wished to have sense enough to act as the lesser man. The teacher swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat and raked his brain in order to form words smart enough to convince the man behind his back that the kitchen utensils had nothing to do with him fooling around with the man's mask, which wasn't even on the bastard's face at that moment for that matter, and they really needed that spatula for making their meals.

"...Kakashi-san, I'm, in all my honesty, deeply-"

"Maa, none of that begging, sensei."

The icy silence that followed the sentence took the jounin by surprise, and the menacingly narrowed dark brown eyes that turned to glare at him over his captive's shoulder made Kakashi consider telling the teacher that the man was now playing against the rules.

"...It wasn't begging, you dick, it was an apology. Which you were kind enough to interr-"

"Sounded like begging to me, and trust me, I've heard a lot of that-"

"I did not beg, you ass!"

"Yes you-"

"Can't you distinct an apology from a beg?! What kind of jounin are you? Do you kill people when they say 'I'm sorry', you sadistic idiot?!"

Due to his hotly boiling temper and for him having difficulties to see behind his shoulder properly, Iruka missed the darkening of the slowly narrowing gray eye which was gradually gaining the warning signs of rising anger instead of the previous mild annoyance and teasing.

"Maa, I'd watch that tongue of yours, chuu-"

"Shove it!" Iruka was sorry for messing with Kakashi's belongings, he also realized his tongue being way too eager and that their situation was going the wrong way on more than just one level, but as the things currently stood, he was more than ready to murder the man with the unnerving spatula poking at his back before going for a second apology.

Though the passing twitch of the silver brow made him quickly realize that after a few moments there might not even be a mouth nor tongue on him to form an apology with.

Kakashi growled, flung the spatula away, took a hurting hold on the teacher's shoulder with his now free hand and forced the man on his side against the terrace floor hard enough to give the man a reason to cry out as his body met the hardwood. Then the jounin pinned the surprised chuunin's legs with his own and in a blink of an eye Iruka felt a rough hand tear the mask off of him and perform an interesting way of making makeshift shackles out of the cloth when the pale hands tied swiftly the now furiously resisting tan wrists together. Iruka cursed and struggled on the floor as he tried to break the bindings around his wrists and kick the legs away from pressing on his calves, making the folded laundry scatter around them in a disarray. Suddenly he felt being yanked back up sitting on his bottom, but the confusion for the older man's plans didn't last long as the next thing Iruka felt were calloused hands that took a painful hold on his ponytail.

Hence, as the first rays of sunlight peeked warily over the fence wall, the darkly humming jounin dragged the yelling and trashing chuunin into the dim training room by a steel grip on the man's hair.

The moment the ex-ANBU introduced the teacher with the philosophy concerning discipline among their ranks, Iruka was certain that he would learn to hate the chime of the silver bells.


The pleasant morning sunlight didn't last long and the sounds of citizens running for nearest shelters could be heard over the fence as the heavy rain poured down from the now dark sky. The raindrops pelted against the roof of the light-gray house, creating their own melody of rhythmic tapping against the worn tiles, as the rain curtain hissed around the city and took its time to form various puddles and mischievous waterfalls flooding the drainpipes and the gutters, thus completely soaking the unfortunate individuals passing down the streets.

Kakashi had always enjoyed the rain. The quiet hiss surrounding him was one of the few sounds that ever had managed to calm him down, despite of usually ending up wet like a drowned rat and shivering from cold bordering the symptoms of hypothermia, but nevertheless, he liked the sound of it. Plus it made the air more humid, which worked like a cleansing filter for his mask, a small luxury which he appreciated greatly after missions in dry conditions.

As for now, the rain gave him something else to concentrate on instead of the unpleasant tension hanging between him and the academy teacher who was nursing the red marks on his wrists while sitting on his futon a good ten feet away from him.

The remnants of their late brunch were forgotten on the tray between them after they had prepared and eaten the food in an uneasy silence, the men avoiding the other's gaze the whole time. Kakashi gave a short glance at the tanned man and seeing the deep frown furrow the usually vivid eyebrows gave his gut a small twist. He didn't mean to beat the man up for the first thing in the morning, if anything he had been planning to enjoy the early morning in the chuunin's good company, but for the life of him he couldn't understand how the hell the shit had hit the fan so thoroughly before he even managed to get his morning coffee. He had gotten unexpectedly riled up for seeing the man wear his mask without asking first, and the following flow of insults from that sharp tongue had hit the last nerve to make Kakashi see red.

A dark cloud passed his mind as he remembered the spatula that was still embedded to the wall. Being a genius was apparently restricted to actions performed after his first dose of caffeine.

He did know that the teacher didn't mean half of the things his mouth spitted out, but the unusually bitter tone in them had been the trigger for Kakashi to lose his temper. But, after the copy-nin had managed to calm down and analyze their brief yelling exercises for a minute, he realized that Iruka had sounded very reluctant with his words as well. As if the man had been wanting to yell at someone else than him.

The ex-ANBU had a good idea on who that particular individual was.

A small, awkward clearing of a throat made Kakashi look back at the face that was no longer disgruntled, but ashamed. Iruka turned his head to give a careful glance at Kakashi's direction and the jounin raised a challenging brow at the indecisive annoyance that momentarily swirled in the dark eyes.

He really could live without the second shouting round for that morning.

"...I'm sorry", came the quiet murmur from the dark lips and the silver brow rose a bit more to meet the blush that tinged the scarred cheeks. The chuunin took a deep breath, apparently to pull himself together, and opened his eyes for a straighter look at the narrow dark gray eye that was watching him. "I'm sorry for putting your mask on, Kakashi-san. I shouldn't have done it, it was against the protocol, very unprofessional, and furthermore violated your privacy. I'm also sorry for shouting rude things at you." With those words Iruka sat on his knees, turned to face the now utterly baffled copy-nin, and, to Kakashi's complete surprise, proved some of jounin's opinions on him wrong in the most unexpected manner.

"I'm deeply sorry for my misbehavior. Please accept my apology, jounin-san," the mellow voice worded out as the teacher bowed his head to the mattress.

The sound of rain was for a moment the only sound heard in the house as the jounin stared at the atoning chuunin. Then a thought came to the silver-haired nin and he patiently waited as the blushing teacher rose back on his knees and cast him a wary look. A look which took a turn into a flight-or-fight reflex crossing the tan features as Kakashi directed a bright smile at the chuunin and put away his empty coffee mug. Then Kakashi turned to face the man properly and pointed his finger at the fidgeting teacher.

"Give me your hairband."

Of all the things that could have left the masked mouth, that request was the last to expect for Iruka. Hesitantly, he reached with his hands to his already bristled and abused ponytail, which still gave small stings of pain to his scalp from the slightest touch, and directed a doubting look at the still smiling man.

"Questioning your superior again, chuunin?" The warning was clear in the man's voice.

Iruka gritted his teeth and pulled off his hairband, his other hand offering the small band of rubber for the jounin as the other held his hair up for the time being. Kakashi lifted himself up from his futon and scooted closer to the tanned chuunin who had to resist his reflexes telling him to take the equal amount of scoots backwards. The jounin took the band from the tan fingers and cast a stern look at him.

"Let your hair down, sensei."

"...Kakas-"

"You used your fellow shinobi's personal belongings without permission, insulted your colleague with foul language and yet you still dare to oppose a direct order? Do you teach your students to act the same way, sensei?" Kakashi's sharp and strict voice cut down the teacher's objection, which was an unnecessary reminder from the previous time Iruka had heard the man use the same tone on him.
Half an hour ago, to be precise. With fists and feet for emphasis.

Swallowing down the forming storm rivaling the one raging through their village at the moment, Iruka gave a surrendering sigh. This was a fight he had lost from the start, and he didn't feel like starting a new one either. While closing his eyes he let go of his hair, feeling it descent over his neck and shoulders, and he already wanted to have it back in its rightful bindings when the first stray locks tickled his cheekbones. He gave a grumpy look at the man sitting in front of him, but the foreign glint in the gray eye silenced the words on his tongue. After a fleeting silence, Kakashi stretched the rubber band with his fingers, dipped his head, and caused nearly a half of Iruka's brain to short-circuit.

When the copy-nin straightened back up, the stunned look of utter disbelief on the tanned features made his closed eyelid twitch with an urge to memorize the sensei's face with his sharingan. But, against the current desire, he chose to close his both eyes in happy crescents as a wide grin stretched on his masked lips, and, as he reckoned that for the first time, for once, he didn't have hair tickling his face, he now understood why the teacher was so fond of having his hair up all the time.

"Eye for an eye, neh?"

While the made question flew unheard past his ears, Iruka was beyond words. Not many minutes ago he was introduced with the cruelty of a pissed off jounin applying all his training on his fellow shinobi, the man not caring if the used methods slipped occasionally to ANBU's torture antics as long as his prey was breathing, dodging and running. Now, as his wide eyes stared at the silvery mane being tamed into a small, pointy, spiky, perky tuft of a ponytail wiggling on top of the head of one of the most dangerous assassins ever recorded in the books of living legends, the teacher had never before been so thankful to possess a memory better than the average nin's.

Then his eyes landed back on the man's dark gray eye staring expectantly at him.

After the brief exchange of looks, Iruka's eyes traveled further to see the whole upper half of the man's face without the silver hair blocking the view. He could now clearly see the vertical scar cross the other eyelid which hid the famous red orb, he could see the bare forehead that was shielding the genius mind behind it, and suddenly he couldn't understand why others wasted their time on fussing over the masked lower half of the pale face since the upper half was a sight to behold on its own accord and it was right there for him to be looked at properly.

"...The perky tail suits you, Kakashi-san."

The thunderstruck look in the gray eye froze the blood in the chuunin's veins, and being utterly mortified to hear his own voice to carry out such things, Iruka slammed his hand on his mouth to prevent any more of similar thoughts leaving his lips unchecked. As the gaze of the dark gray eye didn't seem to leave his panicking figure, the chuunin started to count the amount of steps and dodges he needed in order to reach for the breakfast tray to knock the man unconscious if it came to that.

For the complete lack of ideas on how things should go from there, a sudden chortle burst out from the masked lips as Kakashi felt an uncontrollable laughter bubble through his body at the other man's shocked face. He felt tears gather in his eyes and he held desperately on his hurting sides while the abrupt, violent guffaws shook him to the very bone. To his surprise, what his downfall did cause wasn't a renewed yelling session with the easily embarrassed sensei, but an accompanying sound of disbelieving, bright waves of laughter that flowed into his ears. He managed to clear his eye enough to witness how Iruka, behind his mussed curtain of brown hair, laughed loud and hard while the man tried to wipe his eyes clear from the tears and seemed to try desperately cover his deeply blushing face at the same time. The tensed aggression the jounin had sensed on the other ever since the last night seemed to have vanished from the man, for which Kakashi was happy, and for what he wished to find other means to release instead of giving the teacher a new set of bruises.

The rain poured down even heavier than before and the citizens of Konoha cursed at the brisk storm winds that penetrated their thick layers of clothing and chilled them to the bones, but the ambiance between the two men now left panting for air in the bedroom was once more a tad bit warmer and lighter than previous moments ago.

"..Maa..apology accepted, Iruka-sensei."


The small bell chimed on his right side and Iruka leaped away from the kicking feet that narrowly missed their target. Determined to go in for the kill, Kakashi grunted and took a few quick steps to catch up with the escaping prey before swinging his leg once more at the chased chuunin. Iruka skidded to a halt the moment he sensed the other next to his body and dodged down on his knees, the sensei letting the kicking leg swing way past over his ponytail, while taking a good hold on the man's other knee with his hands, thus making the man buckle under his own weight as his knee was suddenly yanked from under him. Kakashi landed on his back with a grunt and for the fleeting second the dark eyes locked with the lone gray as Iruka leaned on top of his opponent, the tanned hands already tracing the red thread attached to the man's slacks.

Suddenly Iruka noticed an arm grab his frame from behind and felt his body being pulled over the older man and rolled under the other's body as the ever so clever copy-nin switched their positions to his advantage. Kakashi sat on his heels and took a firm hold onto Iruka's jaw before hoisting the man with him up on his feet, shoved the other a few feet back and then heard the pleasing sounds of his punches making contact seven times with the tanned skin.

Iruka gave a strangled cough as the air left him, and he barely managed to block the eight and ninth punch sailing at his direction. Then he collected the rest of his adrenaline, took a good hold onto one pale wrist, spun around and threw the older nin over his shoulder.

What he didn't expect was for the older man to land gracefully back on his feet, turn around and give him a sharp blow to his midriff with straightened fingers. Heaving for breath, Iruka fell on his other knee and then felt a leg kick him square on his shoulder, thus making him fall on his back on the floor. Kakashi scooped down to collect the bell from his defeated opponent and then sat down next to the panting man, he himself feeling out of breath as well. The seals were indeed working, it has been a while for him to feel tired after what was only the fourth match.

Slowly, Iruka picked himself up from the floor and plopped down next to his counterpart. As they sat on the matted floor while gathering their breaths for the following stretches, he gave a look at his once again snatched bell resting on the other's hand.

"They've come a long way, haven't they."

The dark gray eye turned to look at the pensive chuunin and then back at the bell, the older man nodding briefly at the question. "Indeed they have. A rather fool proof method, one could say", Kakashi said as he ran his thumb on the smooth metal surface. "Even Naruto paid attention when we sparred with these."

A bright chuckle was heard from his side and Kakashi noticed Iruka shaking his head in amused manner. Then the teacher gave him a toothy grin. "Don't tell me you're comparing me to him, Kakashi-san. I like ramen, granted, but I would prefer to think that I still have more sense in my head than that little demonic whirlwind."

For that Kakashi couldn't help but offer the man a similar, cheesy grin. "Takes one to raise one, eh, sensei?"

Apparently the teacher didn't need the stretches before the fifth round.


"This actually fits me quite well, Kakashi-san."

"Hm?" The dark dray eye glanced up from the syringe.

"This form of training", Iruka said and took off one of the thermal trouser legs in order to give his sample. "I mean, I'm usually highly aware of my chakra reserves, especially when facing a stronger opponent, and I've noticed that it affects my fighting from time to time", the darker man continued while he observed his blood fill the small vial, "but now there's less hesitation in my actions as I fight nearly without chakra. Of course knowing that you're in the same situation does affect that, but-"

"But now you don't have to remind yourself constantly about your remaining chakra but you can concentrate solely on your combat tactics."

"Exactly. Stop ending my sentences for me."

"Maa, ever so strict, aren't you." Kakashi sealed the vial and put it into the small box which he took to the fridge. Iruka was already sipping tea as he returned with his coffee and sat next to the man. He took a small sip from his mug before replacing his mask and looked at the thoughtful man on his side. "Have you noticed something else while we fight?"

The teacher hummed for a moment and leaned back on the terrace. "...No, now that you ask about it. Maybe some things are changing so slowly that I don't realize them happening", Iruka shrugged with a raised brow and took a sip. "But somehow, I don't know why, I enjoy fighting with you nowadays even more than before." With that he gave a glance at the copy-nin who was observing him. Then he felt a wide grin tilt his lips. "I'm becoming insane, aren't I?"

Kakashi gave a low chuckle at the man's words. "Well, not insane, per se. You're just turning into a jounin."

That level of paleness on tanned skin couldn't be healthy.


Kakashi dodged to the side and away from the tanned fist hitting the wall on the spot where his chest had been, aimed his punch at Iruka's side and twisted his hand free from the tanned fingers that were trying to get a better hold on it after blocking the blow. The jounin rounded the chuunin who fell in step with him, the darker man following his every twitch and moving on the same pace as Kakashi did while he circled the man, trying to find an opening for his assault. The men circled each other with not more than three feet of air between them, their bodies ready to give and block blows that were about the be exchanged as soon as either of them decided to make a move.

The moment when Kakashi's left leg shifted its angle as it hit the matted floor, Iruka was more than ready to face whatever the man had in mind for him. The chuunin took a defensive stance in seconds and it didn't take long for the pale body to plunge towards him, the jounin pulling his fist back for a quick punch.

After analyzing the angle of the hit and making his own decisions based on two or three possibilities on how the jounin would modify the hit, Iruka suddenly noticed it. The small opening he had been carefully searching.

For a second he speculated it to be a ruse.

As the pale fist sailed towards his head, the teacher made his gamble. He bent down, closed the distance between them, let the man's punch fly past his shoulder a mere inch away as he spun around to have his back at the man, straightened up and drove his elbow in the jounin's collarbones. A loud whack echoed in the room as the contact was made. The older nin's eye stared at him aghast when the pale body staggered backwards and Iruka continued his turning momentum to face his opponent as he felt his lips tilt into a victorious smile when his fingers closed around the chiming goal. His other hand delivered the final blow on the same spot between the man's collarbones before the elite could catch on his actions, and the red thread came off as the jounin stumbled backwards from the hit.

The alarm began its high-pitched beeping and Kakashi leaned down with his hands against his thighs while taking a few deep breaths. Iruka cast a curious look at the defeated man.

"Have you noticed that this tag is starting to resemble our first days before we decided to try this method, Kakashi-san?" the teacher noted nonchalantly as he tossed the bell in the air just to catch it again.

Kakashi straightened up and gave his arms a small stretch, a thoughtful hum resonating from his throat. "Could be, now that I think about it. Do you wish to switch back for this being just a game of tag, sensei?" The jounin asked and a teasing, playful look crossed his eye.

"No need necessarily", the chuunin mused while he observed the bell he was playing with. As he caught it once more Iruka shot a mischievous smirk at the older shinobi. "Not when I'm the one doing the ass-kicking, that is."

The masked man's rumbling laughter was something he doubted he'd ever grow tired of.


Iruka let out a delighted moan as the warm water washed away the sweat he had been pushing the whole day and a brief laughter echoed from the other shower stall next to him.

"Need a helping hand over there, sensei?"

An indignant blush bloomed on his cheeks as Iruka took some shampoo on his hand, weighed calmly the nearly full bottle in the other and then promptly tossed it to the other side over the stained glass wall. A pleased smile tilted his lips when he heard the plastic hit wet skin and a surprised yelp escape the older man. "Keep the perverted ideas to yourself, idiot. Not all of us think through innuendos on daily basis, mind you."

A small pained grunt was slightly muffled due to the sound of water hitting their bodies. "True. But, being a pervert is so much more fun than acting all straight-laced. And don't hit people with plastic bottles, it's rude."

Iruka raised a brow at that remark while he rubbed his scalp clean from all the dust gathered on it from the constant encounters with the floor. They would need to clean the place soon, that ANBU did a lousy job with the dusting. "Saa, I didn't hit you with it, I threw it at you and managed to land a hit on you with it. I thought that the difference would be clear to all jounin. Besides, being on the receiving end of various flying projectiles, moreover successfully dodging them, should be an obvious point in your job description by now, concerning how long you've been working in this profession, Kakashi-kun." It was a vain attempt to keep the smug smirk out of his voice.

A dark hum reached his attentive ears from the other side. "Now you're just begging for it, sensei-"

"For the second time, I do not beg, bastard."

A dry snort caught the cinnamon ears. "Nonsense. Everybody begs, even you."

"Have fun making me", came the challenging reply from the sensei's lips as he rinsed his hair happily.

The following loud series of abrupt coughs and gurgles made the chuunin replay the said words in his head for a moment, and amidst his struggles to get all the excessive water out of his lungs, Kakashi was certain that the whistling sound resembling a tea kettle that was piercing through the sound of their showering did not come from the kitchen nor from the plumbing. The jounin took a deep breath and hit his chest for a few more times before he found his voice again.

"...Maa, still up for-"

"Stuff it, Kakashi-san."


They laid on their futons, both the cup and mug at hand, as the men concentrated on their chosen literature. Kakashi cast a look from behind his book at the other man laying on his mattress on his stomach, the honey-toned strong jaw propped up on one hand and the dark eyes scanning the sealed pages of the notebook. Iruka hadn't tied his hair up after their shower and the man's towel was already neatly placed to dry hanging from their bedroom's wall hooks, as Kakashi's was folded, granted, but still left on the floor next to his bed. The tanned man was always very neat in jounin's opinion, his stacks of paper were the most straight ones in the mission room and his scrolls sealed more properly than others', not to mention the orderly line of pens decorating the desk's surface, conveniently at hand for swiftly served penalties should someone piss the man off. As the gray eye focused on the sensei who was lost in his own thoughts, Kakashi found his eye wander idly over the man's whole demeanor.

Then again, with the visible results he could consider cleaning more often as well.

"Is there something on my face, Kakashi-san?"

The smooth words snapped the gray eye's attention back at the tanned face, moreover at the man's eyes that were giving him an intense, speculating gaze. Kakashi had no doubts that the other had been tempted to use some other word instead of 'face' in his question, but wasn't the one to point it out.

"Just wondered how you're doing with the seals. You know, a genius offering his assistance if needed."

A dry snort was given and the dark eyes fell back to look at the current spread which had yet to pop open. "Wouldn't that be against our bet?" Iruka had possibly only three more seals left and for the time being all he had was only a vague idea of their logic, since he hadn't been present when the previous ones had opened. He was reluctant to think that he should waste one seal just to see what it looked like when activated. Not to mention admitting to himself that he needed to wait for that in order to get a better idea on the exasperating riddle.

"Minor details. We could settle for a draw then", Kakashi mused behind his book.

"I think that I'll manage, Kakashi-san."

"Not one to settle for a draw, are you, sensei?"

"After the months that we've been greeting each other with knuckles before saying 'hello' that could be the case, yes", Iruka's smirk was interrupted with a yawn and he closed the book. Then he sat up, stretched his back leisurely, while noting that his right shoulder will hurt like hell the next morning, and emptied his cup with a gulp.

"That shoulder looks like it could use some more stretches." Kakashi gave Iruka a lingering look before putting away his porn with the rest of the bunch and sitting up on his futon. The teacher put away his cup and rolled his shoulders while looking to the side as the copy-nin took a few gulps on his coffee, the man wincing a bit at the slightly tangy taste of the liquid. Lukewarm coffee was never pleasant to drink.

"Undoubtedly. Feels like it as well." Iruka put the notebook properly away before looking back at the ex-ANBU. The masked man nodded and then they both stood up, shook their limbs back awake for a second and then took a good hold on each others' shoulders before bending their knees and descending slowly. They stopped when their knees reached the ninety degrees angle and stood still for a couple of minutes before gradually ascending back up. They squeezed each others' shoulders for a confirmation for continuing, and repeated the stance a few more times before switching for another position.


"Sit a bit straighter, Kakashi-san", Iruka said from behind the other's back as he took hold of the older man's arms that were lifted upon the man's head, the jounin sitting cross-legged on the floor. The silver-haired shinobi straightened his back and then Iruka proceeded to slowly bend the lifted arms back while pressing the side of his knee and thigh between the man's shoulder blades, observing both the man's breathing and body language. The right arm gave a twitch and Iruka gave it a tiny squeeze, then he felt the muscles turn more pliant under his fingers. The jounin's breathing turned deeper with each passing minute and the pale body became more relaxed in teacher's eyes. Though the sensei also sensed for there to still remain the thin edge of alerted attention in the silver-haired man's figure.

"...Maa, been a while to let someone stand this close behind my back", came the quiet words behind the mask, and if Iruka's hearing was correct, the older man sounded slightly apologetic. A warm smile splayed on the teacher's face as the meaning of the shallow note was examined in his mind.

"You're doing well, Kakashi-san. Just let me know."

Iruka felt the muscles twitch under his hold before they settled for the last minutes of their stretch. The teacher lowered the hands at Kakashi's sides and the jounin rolled his shoulders slowly and shook them a few times.

"...As for the..ah, bad morning, um..is miso soup okay for you, Kakashi-san?"

Kakashi stilled and turned to give a bewildered look at the man now crouching behind him. Iruka's lips were in a grim line and the dark eyes concentrated on the floor while the man traced his scarred nose awkwardly with his finger. Kakashi felt his gut stir strangely at the sight and after a heartbeat it wasn't only the chuunin that stared with wide eyes at the pale hand resting on his shoulder. After recovering from the initial shock of his muscles working without warning his brain first, Kakashi had a fleeting second to reconsider his following action.

The rising flush of on the tanned cheeks was as entertaining as ever to Kakashi when the Konoha's infamous S-class elite jounin gave the tanned chuunin's shoulder a warm squeeze served with an equally warm smile spreading on his unexpectedly flushing face.

"Maa. I'll make the fish then."

The men looked astounded at each other, both taken aback by their suddenly changed, new form of communication. They had argued and settled their fights before, true, and were, against the common assumptions, capable of having an amiable conversation and even compliment each other when the situation called for it, but touching one another in such a manner that the jounin's hand was currently displaying had been, by far, the least expected way of expressing their budding friendship at each other.

Kakashi slowly turned the now very warm hold on the tanned shoulder into a firmer squeeze before giving the other a more familiar expression of two brightly smiling eyes.

"How about we fix that shoulder, eh, sensei?"


[1] Ah. Well. Referring to the hilarious episode of 'trying-to-see-Kakashi-sensei's-face'. He reveals a mask underneath the other mask, so one could think that he has both the attached masks on his singlets and detached masks which are just pulled over the head. If not, my mistake.

As for the silk and bamboo fibres, I use a silken mask while downhill skiing and used that as a reference, since man that little cloth does wonders in different winter conditions. But, not the matter of highest importance for the plot. Moving on then.