AN: As an irrelevant yet entertaining random sidenote, I went and updated a cover image for the story, in case somebody had missed that. The images are made by HALCO/Chikadoh, whose KakaIru art and humor I simply worship, and the upper picture is from the story "Neko ni nare" as the lower is from "Moshimo Kimi ga Naku Naraba". Therefore I won't claim any ownership on those visual candies. Just the title.


Day 12, Morning: Conflicting conducts and courteous counterattacks

As they lived in a village full of shinobis, the genins, chuunins and jounins alike had learned to live with the fact that it was more than usual to have at least one of their friends located at the hospital whenever they were visiting the village between their assignments. The mission desk rolled ruthlessly forward despite that fact, and soon enough the ones being troubled by someone's physical well-being would find themselves opening their eyes amidst beeping machines and scurrying footsteps rushing around them.

Learning to breath, walk and talk once again.

One also knew that those chlorine-infused visits would at some point stop due to having no legs or throat to benefit from medical treatment, so as a shinobi sank deeper into their ranks, rather than worrying if all of their body parts were still attached to their bodies, the sole act of waking up without pain slowly became sufficient enough for the majority of them.

The owner of the dark brown, bleary eyes that stared at the ceiling above the cinnamon-colored body was more than familiar with the previously mentioned thoughts, but that didn't stop his eyes to fall shut and form a suffering frown on the tan face while the equally tan hands rose to rub the closed eyelids with growing discomfort on the memory that was last night.

Waking up to an abrupt sound and soon realizing that it had nothing to do with breathing exercises was something Iruka hadn't bumped into during his stays in their healthcare facilities, and also something he never thought he'd encounter in any circumstances in any parallel universe. The tan cheeks heated up and a low groan escaped the sun-kissed lips as a pool of warmth gathered into the teacher's abdominal region due to the memory of the voices he had unintentionally overheard very clearly through the bathroom wall, each resonating groan and moan making his heart beat a bit faster as they had filled his sleep-muddled mind.

When the surprisingly hoarse scream had pierced the air accompanied with a sound that could only indicate towards one particular silver-haired pervert's famous attack, the tan chuunin had almost ripped his blanket in half.

Iruka was still surprised that he had managed to stay still and feign deep sleep so well after listening for what felt like half an hour to someone hitting wet skin with loud slaps that warped into resembling something completely different than a lone man having a precious moment with his right hand.

The feel of something quite solid and throbbing forming inside his boxers on that specific speculation made the dark eyes turn their timid look at the other futon that usually withheld his arrogant, lewd mission partner, who was also the culprit for causing his current arousal. Seeing the mattress empty and it having been deserted for some time ago made the cinnamon-colored skin to gain a more cherry-tinted hue as the infamous mission room tyrant weighed his options. The dark eyes glanced cautiously at the bulge that had already created a visible bump on the blanket, and the full bottom lip was briefly worried between strong teeth as the sensations in the reckless groin only spiked up on the self-inflicted visual stimulus, thus making the hardened member twitch deliciously against the strained boxer fabric. Oh how he would have loved to join the man and shut the pale bastard's mouth with something that was worth of screaming, make the masked man beg and shout and show the jounin how much nicer it was to spend one's excessive energy with an other person...if he had been brave enough to even lift a finger while unwillingly listening to the other enjoying himself, that is.

Having well-functioning self-preservation instincts could sometimes be a rather big killjoy.

As he closed his eyes while letting out a frustrated growl, Iruka pressed his head further against his pillow and brought his both hands to his sides on top of the bed covers, the lightly trembling hands curling into tight fists and digging deep into the firm mattress beneath them. He could feel the increasing amount of sweat forming on his skin, and as a wave of tremors washed over his thighs and lumbar region, Iruka knew he had to reign himself in fast if he wished to avoid the subject of soiling his pants in minutes. With a deep breath, the well-trained young nin concentrated his inner thoughts to discard the admittedly tempting idea of warming himself up with some unmistakably rewarding and appealing muscle training, and hence letting his libido know that as much as he appreciated the thought, the risk of getting caught by one of the most infuriating lechers he had ever met while masturbating and filling his head with dirty fantasies containing the said pervert was not something Iruka wished to take as a start for his day, his itching hands be damned.

On that note, the already frowning dark eyebrows furrowed further on the slightly sweating bronze-skinned forehead.

...Now that he thought about it, what day was it?

As the scorching heat slowly disappeared from his hips, though not without some mighty protests, some other, also highly familiar sensation started to stir up in his awakening systems and thus made the now slowly paling man to briefly wonder life and the many pop-quiz questions it always presented him.

For instance, how many steps did it take to reach the toilet in three seconds.


A brown-haired, slightly swaying figure slumped over a white sink with a heavy sigh echoing from the tiled walls of the small toilet. The plug was placed and the faucet was turned, and for a moment the dark-skinned man enjoyed the feel of cool water against his skin as he promptly dumped his slightly flushed face into the filled sink after having managed to pull his hair into a sloppy ponytail. After a silent minute, one hand reached over, plucked the plug out and then the other joined it in order to help the heavily breathing man to rinse his mouth thoroughly.

Slowly, the tan fingers reached and grabbed blindly for a small towel from hanging on the wall and then carefully dried off the tan face after the now quietly hiccuping chuunin had finally managed to retrieve the desired item. After a beat, the dark eyes peered over the soft cloth and focused on their reflection that had the unnerving audacity to look right back through a small wall mirror that hung above the sink. The sight that greeted the keenly looking eyes made Iruka swallow one of the annoyingly bubbling hiccups in shock and felt his throat constrict unnecessarily painfully on the accidental action.

He seemed to resemble something that Hayate would have looked like at the current moment if the special jounin ever had decided to come and check up on them beyond the grave.

Then again, having spewed out somewhat lukewarm and nasty-tasting watery liquid with force that felt like twenty liters in ten minutes obviously did that to a person.

When that tiny tale of misfortune was combined with a chaos of blurry, absurd memories of blue shadows and electric fireworks mixed up with sudden realization of his teammate howling in orgasmic abandon in the room next to him, Iruka had to concentrate his thoughts for a second to verify that he was still indeed on a surreal mission with an insane jounin rather than starring one of the drunken stories his comrades usually shared during their shifts after the rowdy nights. Not that it lessened any of the queasy feelings that were running quite close to the definition of an unruly and sadistic hangover wrecking destruction in his intestines. Once more, the perceptive eyes rose to meet their twins through the mirror and the chuunin fixed his disheveled demeanor with a better look. He hadn't drank any alcohol, for that he was sure, and for Kakashi to poison him he could expect to have a swifter death served to him instead of dragging it out on such sluggish pace. As psycho as the masked, porn-addicted jerk was, the man also knew their poisons, so that option was quickly ruled out. He had barfed only water, so it couldn't be anything he had eaten, either -

The brown eyes stared their reflection in stunned silence.

Burning object against his lips. Pulsating, electric sensations taking over his body. The alluring, sweet smell filling his nostrils as he greedily drank-

Oh.

The scorching heat that made him cry out of pleasure, the intoxicating feeling running down his tongue and shaft as he licked and nipped the glowing skin before him, the mind-blowing electrical pulse that ravished his whole body the moment his scream was swallowed by the demon's lips when he had pulled its hand down into his-

...Oh fuck.

Quicker than a blink, tan hands grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste from the nearby shelf and the chuunin squeezed an illegal amount of minty fresh goo on the brush before shoving it into his mouth and starting to scrub with vigor that could have made Gai proud.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-

"...Fuck..more..!"

The moment when the chuunin's loudly whirring mind registered the passing and seemingly superficial note, the tiny mirror on the toilet wall was soon adorning a violently spat splattered splotch of mint-green toothpaste now covering its reflecting surface. As the clumps of foam mixed with saliva slowly slid down from it and fell on the sink with wet glops, the slowly revealed reflection created an image of a cinnamon-colored man who had lost himself into his head. The wide, dark eyes stared blindly forward as the last connections were welded together in the gawking man's mind, and the moment when the realization hit him on the head, the deep blush that had been following the situation from the background saw the opening it had been prying for and hit the high cheekbones with an impressive arsenal of cherry bombs. Not that the shocked man noticed any of this, since he was far more interested in the tiny detail that was now presented to him in the life's fucked up footnotes.

It seemed that he was having an elemental hangover from having sex with something that both was and wasn't human, and to make things even worse it also appeared that he had all but forced himself on it.

Not only that, but he wasn't sure if it had been dream or reality, which in that case meant that it might share a connection with the horny jounin whose steamy shower moment he had the displeasing privilege to witness with his now hotly blushing ears.

A sharp knock on the wooden door made Iruka's heart, which was already having troubles on keeping up the steady pace, try to jump out of his ribcage and his vision swam nauseatingly due to the sudden rush of adrenaline. "Maa, Iruka-sensei? Are you doing alright in there?"

Counting out the fact that he was contemplating on drowning himself in the toilet seat rather than letting his possible subject of unintentional sexual harassment to see him in the current state then yes.

Just peachy.

Yet another knock echoed against the wood, this time followed with a more concerned voice. "Sensei? You there?"

As much as it made his skin break into cold sweat even from thinking it, Iruka knew that to be the last warning for him to give the man a verbal confirmation of being still alive on some pitiful scale before the jounin decided to break the door and force his way in, and thus he had to say something to keep the silver-haired copy-nin on the preferred side of the toilet door. The tan knuckles turned white on the tightening grip on the toothbrush and the academy instructor refused to acknowledge the disgusting feeling his mint-coated tongue created while moving awkwardly in his mouth as he searched for the right syllables to stitch together into something that sounded vaguely like understandable words.

Oh dear kami what had he done to deserve this?

"I-I'm fine, just a bit..erm..out of it...for a bit. Could..could you make me some tea, please?" The last word was barely pronounced completely as the thought of putting any more liquid into his system made a sickening tremor shake him to the very core. He was almost certain that the floor shouldn't tilt that way.

As his current non-existent lady luck had it, the genius on the other side was not convinced. "By the sound of it you need medicine instead of tea. Open the door, sensei."

On those words, an ominous tic appeared on one dark eyebrow.

The blazing, albeit a bit unfocused brown eyes turned to give a dark scowl at the infuriating door that dared to oppose his request, and the chuunin was mildly surprised to feel some of his ill sensations to step aside in fear as his lungs decided to prove the hard-headed jounin wrong on many things. "When a dying man asks for a cup of tea you do not decline him his wish, asshole!"

At least now the blissful silence lasted for more than four seconds. "..Maa, already getting better over there I hear. I'll be in the kitchen then."

"Thank you", Iruka grounded out through gritted teeth and listened keenly for the footsteps to move away from the door before slacking the hurting hold on the maimed brush and letting out a long, deep breath. What the hell had happened to him? Carefully, the gears in the brown-haired head turned as he once more commenced brushing his teeth, and the missing memory fragments were once again plucked out of their hiding places, the tiny pieces gradually creating a better image on what had happened to the short-tempered chuunin after he had agreed on giving the silver-haired pest a massage, the teacher replaying the fragments of their discussions all the way to the point when all went black in his eyes. As far as he was concerned, aside Kakashi being the jolly prick the man always was, there was nothing out of the ordinary happening between them until his element had apparently decided to take the matters into its own liquid hands, and as a tormented groan left his lips, Iruka looked down to cast a narrow glare at his treacherous body. The following scenes after the blackout were still quite a difficult story to comprehend as the small memory losses made it harder to grasp the whole image, but seeing that throwing up for having just a wet dream had close to nigh possibility to ever happen, the chuunin was forced to face the other facts that made even less sense to him.

For instance, he was pretty sure he didn't own a pair of plain cotton boxer briefs with the pattern of tiny blue and black shurikens the last time he checked.

As he held the freshly used tea sieve in his stilled hand, Kakashi found himself suddenly staring at something that in its past life seemed to have been something akin to a toothbrush, the pitiful-looking remnants of the dental hygiene product still wiggling for a couple of seconds from the power behind the impact that had made it embed itself halfway into the wooden cupboard door just three inches away from his silver-haired head.

The moment when he felt a hand grab him roughly by the dark singlet, pull him around and shove his back against the counter, the copy-nin appreciated the polite warning he had been given. Not that he got to relish on the given fact, since soon enough he found himself staring straight into brightly gleaming brown eyes that were filled to the brim with both embarrassment and anger when the furious chuunin cornered the bewildered jounin.

"You have five seconds to explain why exactly I am wearing your boxers before our village will lose one jounin from its ranks", the heated baritone murmured in a tone which could have made even Gaara to whimper as a sissy little toddler.

Being taught to carefully asses the situation before getting his ass kicked, and not entirely sure if he had heard the man right in the first place, Kakashi gave a slow blink at the rather unexpected phrase that had made his self-defense reflexes halt in total confusion. "..Could you kindly repeat that, sensei?"

If Ibiki ever needed someone to train his interrogators on menacing gaze, Iruka would have a good third job as it was.

Hell, one could cut adamantium[1] with that look.

Unexpectedly, the chuunin decided to go with the verbal torture before the physical.

"WHY THE HELL AM I WEARING YOUR BOXERS?!"

During a brief, utterly baffled moment of silence that fell on them after the short explosion of volume, the copy-nin gave couple more blinks. His what? Quickly, he risked a glance over the seething, bronze-skinned man, and the further down his eye traveled on the well-built body, the better the jounin started to understand the situation he was currently in, and thus he became also very much aware of the extraordinary sight he was greeted with. The smooth, slightly scarred mocha-toned skin expanded over the taut planes that created a tempting package of one temperamental colleague, and there, wrapping around that damn deliciously tight and pert ass were...his boxer briefs.

...What the-

As soon as the hoard of questions on the current subject started to scream over each other in his head, the most plausible explanation on how his own underwear had managed to invade such a dangerous territory on the younger nin's anatomy pounced him and his pale hands gave a subtle twitch as a rush of adrenaline made the blood pump faster in his arteries.

Changing the other's dirtied underwear in complete darkness after having blindly wiped the narrow hips clean hadn't apparently been the best of ideas.

Seeing the tan skin contrast exquisitely against the multicolored fabric of his boxers and noticing that the peeved sensei was also unthinkingly doing a very good job in making his superior to understand that they were definitely compatible on certain physical areas, didn't really help in putting the surfacing passionate memories of previous nights back into their securely locked locker behind three fifteen inch thick steel doors, and the ex-ANBU quickly added a new tick in his long list of reasons for wearing a mask over his face. When the silver-haired man realized that it was indeed his voice that blurted the following words through the thick silence that had fallen between them, it was already too late to kill the daring brain cells for prompting his tongue for doing that. "Maa, if it helps any, you're sure filling them up quite nicely, Iruka-sensei."

Somewhere on the background, the silence was hit unconscious with a stray sledgehammer.

As the jounin fought down the urges to rip off his inconsiderate tongue, a pale finger was lifted in the air between the men as a correcting gesture. "...Let me rephrase that-"

"SINCE WHEN does one share their underwear with their mission partner and then furthermore compliment their looks in them?!"

Shit! Kakashi knew that tone. It was time to approach the subject from a different angle before his vision got splattered into many angles. While lifting his both hands to both defense himself and calm down the fiercely blushing academy teacher whose forehead had started to sport a rather unhealthily throbbing vein on it, the copy-nin took his leap of faith. "Look, the thing is that the time you collapsed I wasn't there when they treated you so I wouldn't know what they had to do in order to keep you alive, sensei. That's the only possible explanation I could think of." Alright, so he made a tiny lie there, but only for the greater good considering their mission. And for his windpipe.

Sharp as a kunai, a slender, dark eyebrow rose on the reddened face of the younger nin, but more than the obvious sign of the chuunin's surfacing professional sadism of a bright-minded bureaucrat, it was the smooth, leveled tone in the dark-haired man's voice that made Kakashi's palms sweat. "...Correct me if I'm wrong, Kakashi-san, but are you seriously suggesting that Tsunade-sama has a habit of stripping her subordinates naked in order to tend on their bodies while they are apparently dying on the floor, and then just happen to dress them up in wrong underwear?"

Not paying any attention on the possible explosive tags hidden in their current conversation, Kakashi's tongue acted on the seemingly harmless opening before he could pull it back in his mouth. "Maa, maa, now you make it sound as if it was more likely that I had sex with you, sensei."

The moment his unchecked words floated in the air between them and the gray eye locked with the dark brown ones, Kakashi's heart stopped for a second and the men fell dead still over their briefly derailed verbal battle.

The theory of relativity had never felt so tangible to either of the shinobi.

Despite his shock at the older man's irrational words, Iruka could sense his whole body to heat up when the thin fabric that was covering his lower body made itself acknowledged against his skin due to the mental images the other's words suddenly created in his head, the rough cotton forcing him to sense each little nuance of the jounin's underwear which made him suddenly feel as if the man's own skilled hands were caressing every possible spot on him. Catching on the odd gleam taking over the narrowed gray eye wasn't calming his wildly running pulse either. As the darkly clothed shinobi took a deep inhale and by that action pushed his lean body off the counter, thus stepping within the chuunin's inner range, Iruka felt the hairs on his neck stand on their ends as the exhilarating tingle of electricity traveled across his figure, the subtly intensifying buzz and the prickling sensations created by it throwing his alarms into loud booming orchestra of shinobi sound signals throughout his frozen mind.

This was bad.

This was getting out of hands so rapidly that he was left grasping only thin air in his hands, and what was worse, Iruka couldn't will his body to move even an inch to get away from the alluring lightning user whose chest was already so close that he could feel the man's body heat on his naked skin. His muscles felt like being forced under a powerful genjutsu...and it was apparently more than fine to him. A low rumble carried through the air and the deeply resonating bass of the older man was suddenly sounding so close that Iruka could almost feel it touch his lips, the light stimulus making the breath catch in his throat as the words formed by the masked mouth hit his feverish skin.

The words he did receive, however, were effective enough to throw his roaring alarms off balance and make them degenerate into a chaotic cacophony of off-note honks, embarrassed beeps and utterly confused toots as the rapidly built thick tension was shattered from around them.

"It's usually polite to knock before coming in, kohai."

In an instant, as if a spell had been broken between them, Iruka spun on his heels to face the third presence in the open kitchen while hoping that the heat that was already cooling off from his skin wasn't as visible as it felt to be. Then again, sensing the armored man's focus on his bare skin did very little to lessen the uneasy feeling that made a comeback in his gut after the others grudgingly made some room for it. As he met the shadowed eyes of the porcelain-masked assassin, an odd wave of indecisive intentions pressed against him from the side where he knew the pale-skinned jounin was standing. Before he could give the silver-haired man a glance to confirm the strange sensation, the ANBU pulled out a small scroll from the man's pouch and pointed it at the former Hound.

"Tsunade-sama requested me to hand you an urgent message, sempai. It's from Jiraiya-sama." The stern answer made them both raise their eyebrows in wonder, and Iruka followed silently as the sealed, tiny message scroll was offered and received between the two elite nins. Briefly, a flash of worry passed his mind as the memory of one peculiar blond boy surfaced from underneath his present thoughts. There was a reason the words 'urgent' and 'Jiraiya-sama' were something he usually preferred not to come across in the same sentence. Especially when the word 'Naruto' was said between the lines.

Kakashi gave the worrying chuunin an unreadable glance and twirled the scroll lightly in his hand, but the gray eye was sharp and cutting as a tanto blade the second the masked jounin directed his attention back to his former colleague. "That'll be all, kohai."

With a small nod, the ANBU vanished, but the second the man was almost out of sight, the white mask turned to face Iruka, and the teacher could swear to sense the mellow-voiced man smile warmly at him from beneath the mask.

As soon as the assassin had left, the other masked man in the room made the temperature feel suddenly like having a picnic in a snowstorm. "I'll go read the message on the terrace. Have some tea, sensei." Without further elaborating on his actions, not to mention on the situation they had been in before they had been interrupted, Kakashi walked uncharacteristically briskly out of the kitchen, thus leaving Iruka look after his hastily retreating back with a positively perplexed look on the tan face.

Iruka gave a blink at the man's antics. If he hadn't know better, he would have thought that the man was evading the chance to continue where they were left off with Iruka's underwear problem. A small flutter in his stomach made the tan legs hesitate with their first steps as the chuunin turned to follow the other to the sunny terrace, his swirling mind contradicting loudly with his body and thus making it hard for him to form any ideas on how to approach the man when entering the same space. A small, wondering idea made both his legs and heart stop for a moment.

Why did he have so strong urge to approach the copy-nin in the first place?

Before he could pursue not only the oddly behaving older nin, but his dodgy thoughts as well, the shift of air caught his attention and soon enough he was greeted once more with a slightly inquisitive-looking porcelain mask. Although, in a lack of better words for it, the teacher could describe the feeling he had crawling into his belly the moment he felt the ANBU's eyes on him something of being akin to a prey that was being relentlessly hunted down by a persistent predator that refused to believe that he tasted bad and was too skinny to make a good snack. Nevertheless, he wasn't letting go of his manners even if he had to kick the man off of him seconds later.

"Morning again, ANBU-san. Did you have something else to deliver?"

To Iruka's surprise, even the completely masked ANBU could speak quite loudly with their body language if they wished to, and the brown eyes watched in curiosity how the armored legs shifted their weight ever so subtly under the scrutinizing look the man found himself being shot with. If one had kept their eyes on the mask solely, though, the nervous motion would have been missed. What made the chuunin's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, though, were the rather strongly pronounced words that were said from underneath the mask. As if the ANBU knew he was placing bets in an unknown and possibly dangerous game and showed it without hesitation.

"I wish to have a few minutes, if that's alright with you, Umino-san."

Now was Iruka's turn to become hesitant. What did the masked man want from him this time? "We can speak freely here, ANBU-san, if that suits you." He also preferred to have a solid wall behind his back concerning the last time he had crossed paths with the elite, but the man didn't need to know that.

As the ANBU gave him a cautious nod and turned to give a look out of the kitchen in the direction where his former captain had walked, Iruka stole a glance to his side at the object that teased him in his peripheral vision, partly for the instincts telling him to locate the nearest weapon to use if needed, and felt his eyes widen a fraction at the sight of freshly brewed green tea in a harmless-looking mug that was standing on the kitchen counter.

Where had that appeared from?

Carefully, the tan hands reached for the mug and Iruka took a small, testing sip. ...Genmaicha. Apparently the copy-nin had made a perfect brew of genmaicha for him, and Iruka had to take another sip from the tea in order to chase away the passing heat from his cheeks. There was no way that he'd blush like a schoolboy with a crush in front of someone who had harassed him against their kitchen counter that was currently pressing against his backside. The man could get some disturbing ideas.

Speaking of which.

"..ANBU-san, unless I feel your staring eyes on my face instead of my hips in two seconds, I'm very willing to forget my vow not to assault my comrades and you'll soon find your white mask shoved in a place you'd be surprised to feel it actually fit in quite well when used the right angle for it." Not that he could blame the unfortunate ANBU for his shitty morning, but first hugging the toilet seat, then realizing the possibility of having molested one's arch nemesis, then finding himself wearing the said enemy's underwear and after that nearly jumping the same fucker in the kitchen just because his libido had suddenly developed a mind of its own, only to get interrupted yet again, and finally realizing that this was his fourth time presenting himself in mere underwear to the armored assassin who, kami knew why, had shown sexual interest towards him, was more than sufficient to make any man's thoughts turn vile.

Somebody was melting his iron with his fire so eagerly that it had stopped being funny.

The masked assassin lifted his hands in the air as a sign for placating the unimpressedly looking teacher and then slowly reached for his pouch behind his back, the shadowed eyes kept firmly in contact with the glaring brown. A dark eyebrow rose in wary interest and while he pressed his ass more firmly against the hard wood behind him, Iruka tilted his head to get a better look at what the elite was digging from his backpouch. One could never be too paranoid for what it came to ANBU and their antics. What the man did pull out with a small, light hum, was far from the things the agitated academy teacher had already thought it to be, and the dark eyes gave a confused blink at the beautifully carved, wooden box that had a small wooden sculpture resembling a bonsai tree on its lid which was apparently working as a knob at the same time. An armored hand rose to scratch the porcelain mask in a bashful manner, and the pre-genin sensei had to wonder if it was even possible for any man to have such an absurd morning as he currently was having when the mellow voice spoke out beneath the immobile, painted animal face.

"...I wasn't in the village when you..ah..collapsed, Umino-san, and just came back recently...It isn't much, but I hope you'll find this useful." The box had a warm color on it due to the golden-brown shellac varnish it had been polished with, and as the armored hand lifted the wooden lid and presented the insides of the tiny, exquisite example of superior skills in carpentry, Iruka felt a warm wave filling up his stomach.

Inside the box were ten pouches of rare teas the teacher knew to be very hard to find within the borders of the Fire country. The wide, staring eyes took in the sophisticated blends as well the pure greens and blacks, and at a loss of words, Iruka swallowed thickly as his eyes lastly fell on the final item that took over the half of the box. Pristine white, delicate tea cup made out of rice porcelain greeted Iruka's eyes, and the chuunin felt the light, ticklish heat on his cheeks expand its territory down to his neck and upper back. Slowly, a cinnamon-colored hand rose up to his face and the teacher gave an awkward scratch on his light pink scar area while the dark eyes stayed downcast, the man not trusting his eyes to keep his inner thoughts concealed well enough. As the masked nin closed the box and offered it to the chuunin, Iruka had to will his hands to stay stable enough to put the slightly cooled tea down on the wooden counter and accept the gift while the gears of his mind picked up the speed into three hundred miles per second.

Hell, with all the things happening between them, he could have bet on a plethora of very different ways to use the requested minutes after their latest encounter rather than the ANBU giving him an unexpected gift while he was still wearing another man's boxers. His fingers ran over the smooth wood, and once again the chuunin was impressed by the sheer beauty of the small box, which made him wonder if the porcelain-masked man had specific undertones and ulterior wishes to be granted by giving such a prestigious token of good intentions. On the other hand, the unmistakably wooing gesture made his pulse run faster all the same.

Furthermore, now he had something hard and well-weighed to fling at the man should the situation call for it.

"Um..thank you, ANBU-san. It's very...considerate and impressively crafted." Apparently his brain was still stuck in progressing the delicacy of the box if those were the only suitable compliments it could pull out of his mouth. Suddenly a sigh of a wind caressed his cheek, and the instant he understood that he was feeling slightly moist and warm lips on his skin, the warm brown eyes shot wide as saucers and a sharp gasp left his mouth. As quickly as they had pressed against his face, the lips were gone, and so was the daring ANBU, leaving the utterly surprised chuunin teacher to stare dumbly at the empty corridor before him, the slight tingle of warmth still lingering on his high cheekbone on which he had, just for a fleeting second, felt the naked lips of the dangerous, masked elite. The dark eyes turned to give an unreadable look at the abandoned tea that stood on the counter, and the tan fingers traced the delicate carvings on the smooth wood as the young chuunin lost himself briefly into his thoughts.

What he didn't see was the hard glare in a gray eye that had sent the courteous assassin away after a brief exchange of sharp, challenging looks over the lightly blushing mission room worker's shoulder.


Silently, the door to the corridor opened and a dark-haired head peeked out from behind it. When the path was considered secure enough and clear from any suspicious elite-ranked men, the tan man dressed up in his regular black slacks and a gray tank top snuck to the open kitchen and carefully filled the water boiler before setting it to boil. Gently, the tan hands took a hold of the tiny wooden box that had been placed next to a bigger one, then the tiny lid was lifted and the delicate tea cup was gingerly taken out of the box. Then the the dark eyes swept over both the new variety of teas that waited in the golden-colored box and the lightly dusty box of his tea collection Iruka had held onto during their odd mission. The white cup was placed near the hissing boiler and the big, mahogany-colored box was lightly wiped clean from the gathered dust before it was opened for the teacher to see if his teas were still safe.

What Iruka actually saw first as he opened the sturdy lid made the slender eyebrows rise for a bit.

There, among his precious teas, was a tiny parcel of an unidentified object wrapped neatly in thin cloth, the lonely package standing out between the multicolored labels, pouches and small tins. The brown brows furrowed as the chuunin tried to remember when he could have put something like that into his box, moreover forget that he had done such a thing. He knew his teas as well as the back of his hands, which could be expected from any shinobi who had been fortunate enough to live past the age of twenty, so for him to put an odd packet next to his chai and then skip the fact of its existence was as probable as Ebisu finally admitting being a closet-pervert.

He had to remind himself to have a brief word with the special-jounin about the proper way of ogling people in public baths after he was finished with the mission.

Not that he minded the flattering attention, but everyone working in their profession knew that the prey shouldn't know when it was evaluated for being the next dinner, moreover by such a disturbing manner as the four-eyes had been giving him. That sun-glassed lecher wouldn't recognize subtlety even if he was hit on the crown jewels with it, which was actually an appealing thought that was tucked away for later use in the chuckling chuunin's mind. For some reason, the brave ANBU and the man's latest act came to his mind as well, and the chuckles died as the dark eyes swept over the white tea cup.

...He really was losing it, wasn't he.

Putting aside the irrelevant thoughts of slowly becoming insane, the chuunin concentrated on the tiny package he held in his hand, and as he deemed it safe enough to be opened without detonating anything with gunpowder nearby, the cloth was carefully peeled off of the small object-

"Have you eaten any breakfast yet, sensei?"

The unrevealed package was hastily concealed into a sun-kissed palm and the box lid was slammed shut as the startled academy teacher spun around to meet the questioning gray eye that was peering over the dark mask. As the rest of his mind caught up with him and kindly informed that the way he just acted made the whole situation seem more suspicious that it necessarily was, Iruka's mouth was already patching up the damage done to his usually well-honed and carefully composed reactions. "Where did you disappear suddenly? I didn't find you on the terrace nor from the training room."

An orange book was lifted in sight with a happy wink. "Maa, are you sure you wish to-"

A flat look took over the dark eyes. "If you even imply to what I think you're about to say, Kakashi-san,-"

"Maa, maa. Just teasing you, sensei", came the smiling response, although for some reason it felt to have an edge to it. "I was summoned to the Hokage on matters concerning the letter I received. Is that a better response?"

Better than the other dozen options that had been running wild in Iruka's head. Then again, now he was presented with far more unnerving options. A sliver of cold fear tickled his sides as Iruka met the slightly concerned look in the gray eye. ...No. No-

"Naruto's fine, Iruka-sensei. Actually more than fine, it seems. He's progressing well, even better than he had while in Konoha", was that a flash of remorse in the gray eye? "...It was more about the things happening on the road of life at the moment."

The sharpened brown eyes cast a fleeting look at the equally narrow gray. No words were needed to let Iruka know that whatever the discussion between the jounin and their Hokage had included, it was out of his depth for the time being. Then, the keen look in the chuunin's eyes turned into more unreadable one as they shifted their attention away from the masked ex-ANBU. "I'll join you in the training room in a minute, let me make some tea first."

Taking the subtle hint for him to leave the pensive man, Kakashi gave a small nod and left the bright kitchen, the pale legs carrying the jounin out of the room with an unhurried pace.

Iruka leaned his hurting head against the mauled cupboard door (when had that even happened..?) while his palm slowly opened to reveal the minuscule parcel he had been itching to open the whole time he had felt it in his hand. Swiftly, the deft fingers peeled the cloth completely from around the light item, and as his widened eyes stared at the fragile shard held on his palm, its whiteness giving a sharp contrast against his tan skin, something heavy and hot dropped at the bottom of his stomach. After a couple of silent minutes, the chuunin's perceptive eyes turned to follow the path the older nin had taken.

As a tan, long finger traced the edge of the fragile shard that once had been a part of a cup he had learned to cherish during their mission, the last, minuscule thread of an orphan thought on what he should understand and perhaps finally accept made Iruka's lips spread into a humorless and somber smile.

...He wouldn't mind being the prey.


[1] For those acquainted with Wolverine or other Marvel heroes it should be clear. For others, it's basically a very much indestructible metal type.