Day 13: The problems of organizing the footnotes

When two different weather fronts collide, it usually results in a storm of some kind, with more or less severe consequences to the ones getting caught in it. The residents of Konoha had grown accustomed to many different weather conditions during the years, both the civilians and shinobis knowing the joys and pains of the changing climate. Only when the differences on the professional level were compared, the shinobi population had to become acquainted with far more differing situations opposed to their own regional weather; from the sandstorms in the vast deserts surrounding Sunagakure to the freezing winter season in the Land of Iron; all of the extreme conditions they had to face in order to carry out their missions, and, hopefully, survive to tell the others about their wet, hot and irritatingly itchy adventures.

The amount of worry for their children's appropriate clothing was never in par between the civilian parents and the ones who did their gruesome everyday duty for the village.

With a slow, bleary blink the dark eyes peeled open and cast a tired look at the loudly drumming ceiling above the bronze-skinned body. The distant crack of lightning rumbled through the numb, groggy haze in the awakening man's mind, and while he felt his senses to gradually become more alert and sharper, Iruka realized that it was darker than normal at that time of the morning. At four-forty, to be precise, if the dull ache in his lower back was any hint. His body seemed to continue working like clockwork on some matters, even though he could happily live without some certain features.

With that passing thought in mind, the brown, sleepy eyes swept over the other, soundly sleeping form that laid sprawled on the second futon in the shared bedroom, the subtle rise and fall of the darkly clothed chest being the only indicator on the jounin's state of awareness. Or peaceful sleep in this case.

Figuring that his body was now sufficiently awake for him not to cuddle his pillow any longer, Iruka gave a silent yawn while the strong arms were stretched up towards the dark ceiling, and then the same hands quietly peeled the warm, thick blanket off his half-naked body. Without a sound, the tan hands searched and grabbed for a dark, long-sleeved shirt and then pulled it over the brown-haired head, the tangled mass of long tresses pointing in every direction as they caught on some static electricity when they brushed against the coarse cotton. Quickly, the nimble fingers ran through the thick hair before it could have plotted its rebellion any further, and then secured the strands under the tight, plastic hair-tie, giving them no other choice than to point their ends up high in their passive-aggressive submission. After taming his hair, Iruka's dark eyes set to find the lacking pair of training pants, but when the memory of where the man had seen them last hit the now fully functional mind of the chuunin, the horizontal scar experienced a passing wave of heat.

There was no way he would re-visit those particular memories the first thing in the morning.

Then, the perceptive eyes fell on a hefty bundle of unsorted clothes that seemed to be just recently washed, the heap of dark and light fabrics being neatly folded and them being put next to the sniffling jounin's mattress. A warm, lopsided smile snuck on the full lips, and the dark-skinned young nin rose ever so carefully in a low squat, cautious not to wake the older man, before making his sneaky way to the pile of clothes. The tan, boxer-clad legs stopped in a stable crouch by the end of the ex-ANBU's bed, and after the dark eyes didn't detect any traces of possible traps being set on the clean clothes (since he wasn't one to blindly trust the logic of jounins when it came to household chores), the silent hunt for the pants began with the booming thunder being the chuunin's only accomplice. Swiftly, the mocha-colored fingers went through the different types of fabric and sorted through the clothes in their search for a particular item, finally finding what they were looking for as the smooth, thick textile brushed against them. With trained ease which the teachers were known to possess after helping their students to find their missing things in the afternoon chaos, Iruka confirmed that the found garment was his, unfolded the pants and then stepped into them without a sound. As he pulled them up to cover his lower body, the chuunin gave the sleeping jounin a cautious glance to see if the other had stirred during his trouser hunting. Seeing that the masked man was still happily snoozing against his new pillow, the mismatched eyes being firmly closed beneath the silver bangs and a tiny damp spot being currently formed close to the masked mouth, the teacher gave himself a silent promise to sort through the laundry after the older man had woken up, and snuck out of the bedroom in order to carry on with his mundane morning routine.

The strike of lightning echoed in the dimly lit corridor, and as a bright flash illuminated the silent kitchen for just a second before the deep roar followed it, the chuunin squinted at the storm roaming through the streets. The hisses and gurgles of the small water boiler filled the otherwise electrified silence, and the melody of pouring rain mixed with the boiling water, it creating a rather vivid dialogue between the two kinds of one and same element. Gently, the small, shellac-varnished box was opened, and after a short moment of consideration, a pouch of mint tea was picked out to be opened and some of its content was measured in a small metal sieve. The soft click of the boiler wasn't compatible with the loud boom of another lightning bolt, but that didn't stop Iruka to pour the prepared hot water into his cup and then dip the dry leaves into their steaming bath. A slightly dreamy, if a bit frustrated sigh dropped from the full lips at the sight of the floating tea leaves.

Oh, the things he would do for a hot bath right now.

The sudden gust of strong wind rattled through the corners of their house, and an abrupt, odd series of loud bangs snapped the academy teacher out of his innocently wet daydreams. Quickly and with his whole body being instinctively set on full alert, Iruka left the cup on the counter and strode to the kitchen door leading to their terrace. Cautiously, the teacher opened it and gave a suspecting look outside, and following the trail of the noise, he saw the cause for the banging sound that was violating the thundering silence he had been enjoying. The sliding doors separating the training room from the terrace had been left open after their last match, and the wooden barriers were getting now caught in the aggressive swirls of storm they had upon them and hence were moving restlessly in their wooden rails and hitting against each other. Ignoring the coldness and the irritating dampness that rushed for the first chance it got to get under his clothes, Iruka walked briskly to the clattering doors and pulled them securely closed. As the doors slid shut, he found himself looking through the closing gap at the pair of other shut doors leading to their bedroom. A sliver of strange unease fluttered inside him, it making him pull the hefty wooden frames together with more force than needed and wincing at the loud complaint they gave for the mistreatment. While walking back to the kitchen, Iruka also casually noted that strolling barefoot on wet and cold wooden planks might not be the smartest thing to do in such a weather, and catching a cold wasn't going to make their mission any easier. Especially if he would end up being taken care of by the man he the least wanted to let lay any pale hands on him at the moment...As soon as that particular thought had surfaced in the dark-haired head, the broad shoulders became stiff, only to droop afterward accompanied with a silent huff in a manner what usually counted as either confessing something or admitting defeat when it came to the non-verbal communication between shinobis.

Unseeing, the narrowed eyes stared at the steeping tea on the counter.

"Oh, and Iruka-kun, watch out for any thunder, will you."

A troubled, more pronounced sigh left the sun-kissed lips as the tan hands removed the used sieve from the cup before lifting the warm liquid to the slightly pouting lips, and the chuunin's sense of smell took its fill on the fresh, minty aroma. A strike of lightning rumbled just a few blocks away, and Iruka could feel the minuscule tremors travel beneath his cold feet when the ground trembled on the harsh impact. After having a couple of sips, the tan man leaned against the counter with his narrow hips, the dark eyes blank and absent while the cinnamon-colored ears picked out every single nuance in the melodic cacophony left in the air by the current storm. After a moment of stilled silence, as the violent echo of the electrically charged bolt had died away, the deft, honey-toned fingers opened the golden-brown tea box once more, and gingerly picked out a parcel that wasn't originally put to the said box by its giver. Then, as if being slightly scared what might happen when he said it out loud, the quietly whispered, hesitant words met the loudly roaring storm thundering above his beloved village while Iruka gently traced the covered sharp edges of the small package with his fingertip.

"...I'm afraid that's a bit too late, Tsunade-sama."


For a jounin to wake up, certain precautions were always present. One hardly forgot the vigorous training they had to go through when it came to the art of sleeping while on duty; first they had to learn how to fight against severe sleep-deprivation for many weeks' worth, then they usually were forced to experience the joys of taking naps that lasted only ten minutes and always ended with a simulated enemy attack, that all resulting with a three weeks' phase of trying to remember how it felt to actually sleep and see dreams while struggling to keep all senses alert at the same time. The training for waking up was even worse than it was with the sleeping exercises.

And that was just the jounin training.

Stretching out with his senses, Kakashi lazily mapped the room around him, the man not surprised yet slightly relieved to find out that nothing had changed in the passing hours. His futon was where it was meant to be, he could feel the bipolar demon's presence from a safe distance, and his Icha Ichas were still located on the same spot close to his head. Everything seemed to be in order, which meant that it was safe to open his eye and let the world know that he was awake.

It was at that moment when his keen senses picked the things he had briefly missed.

Not only was there an even pattern of breathing coming from the chuunin's side, it clearly announcing that the man was in deep sleep, but it was accompanied with a rather interesting mixture of scents now wafting to the masked nose.

Mint.

Eggs.

Fish.

...Miso soup.

Why did he smell miso soup the first thing in the morning? His endless curiosity being now efficiently provoked, the jounin turned on his side to face the other man, the loud crack of lightning conveniently masking the already soundless movement, and gave a better look at the quietly snoozing sensei who was oddly enough already fully dressed yet happily curled up and knocked out on the second futon in the room. The dark brown, lively eyes were closed, and the expressive, sun-kissed lips were parted ever so lightly to allow the faint wisps of breath pass between them as the light snoring of the tan man filled the calm ambiance that was present in the room. The posture of the broad, darkly clothed shoulders was peaceful and relaxed, and the stillness of both the man's muscular hands and legs indicated towards inner calmness that made the silvery eyebrows furrow a bit. With all things considered, based solely on what he was seeing, the academy instructor looked like there had been no weird clashes with their elements, no violent pass-outs with near-death experiences and no irrational sexual situations happening to them in the past few days. If he hadn't known better, Kakashi could have thought that he was currently staring at slumbering Siddhartha. Or an Akimichi, if the amount of plates the jounin suddenly spotted being piled next to the man's bed was anything to consider. Either the teacher had been starving or the man had merely ignored the fact that usually they were given only one stomach when their physical bodies were concerned.

Then again, Kakashi's metabolism seemed to only agree with the tan man's appetite, making the jounin briefly wonder if his body had suddenly made some sort of secret pack with the younger man's own as a low yet loud grumble erupted beneath his covers. With graceful stealth the former Hound was expected to possess, the pale-skinned shinobi crawled out of his bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and slunk to the bedroom door. Carefully the strong, deadly hands were placed on the door handle, the nimble fingers curling around the cool metal like they were trained to, and showing the skill he was known for, the ex-ANBU captain opened the door without a creak. The bare feet left no sound as they stepped to the corridor, and the soft click of the closing door was drowned into the howling wind that circled the light gray house on its way through the neighborhood. Calmly, Kakashi strolled to the kitchen, the gray eye scanning the wooden counter top for any signs of a domestic chuunin who had obviously spent a couple of hours awake already while the copy-nin had snuggled deeper into his blanket. The tan man's tendency to wake up when the jounin could have claimed the time to be still closer to midnight than morning was beyond Kakashi's comprehension. Then again, so did the chuunin give him disapproving looks whenever he chose to take a tiny nap before having yet another round of bell chasing (covering his smugly smirking eyes with the Icha Icha had of course nothing to do with that). As he found no pots or kettles in the vicinity of the stove, the jounin opened the fridge door to give a scanning peek inside. The sight of a large pot and several bowls covered with small plates greeted the gray, narrow eye, and for a brief moment the Sharingan user had to wonder if he had missed some information about them having guests for the day. Either that or the chuunin had set them a personal challenge concerning the amount of nutrition for the morning.

Speaking of challenges.

Accompanying the drumming rain that happily pounded against their roof tiles, the pale fingers tapped the smooth fridge door's surface as the awakened mind of the masked genius drifted to what was his current mission with the currently sleeping cinnamon-colored devil. It was almost two weeks ago when the men had started their shared living under Tsunade's instructions, and during that time there had happened more mishaps than ever before between them. Given, their previous encounters had never lasted more than it took either for him to rile up the temperamental man or for them to beat the shit out of each other in the training field, so it should have been obvious to understand the possibility of change to happen in their interaction.

Nevertheless, for the change to carry such an extraordinary nature was something that Kakashi was sure he had never even dared to imagine. The past days had proved his thoughts both about himself and the young chuunin wrong on so many things that, for the first time in his life, the infamous tactic genius and the legendary man of thousand jutsus found himself at loss with his strategy. After a moment of heavy silence, as if the silver-haired man was frustrated with either himself or the problem he was suddenly being thrown at with, a silent huff left the masked lips as the gray, narrow eye darkened into a more tormented look. His situation being what it was, there was now the problem in discerning when was it that he had even started to view the teacher in a way that he had suddenly found himself doing, since there had never been a question of their relationship becoming something else than just friendly fighting between them. Furthermore, not having a clear view on the role his element was presently playing in the whole mess wasn't really tilting the scale for his emotional benefit either. If this was all caused by some meager electric malfunction happening in his body instead of him actually starting to like the tan firecracker on a more psychological level, it wouldn't do well for either of them should the jounin act on an impulse and in the worst case scenario destroy all what they have carefully built up so far. Not that living with that decision was going to be any easier, since after realizing the possibilities of the subtly hidden layers in their discussions and then seeing the round, tight ass wrapped in his boxers, it had somehow become much more difficult to reign in the distracting sensations that were turning his gut upside-down all the time. Admittedly, he had been tempted to make the younger man scream his name against the tiled wall last night when their eyes had met in the bathroom and the jounin had suddenly found himself not only getting his second good eyeful on the nicely sculpted tan torso and a pair of dark nipples, but also presenting his own nude body in its full glory to the younger man. Even for a second time, to top it all off. What had made him hold back wasn't the chuunin turning the scarred back at him, by heavens the temptation for corrupting the honey-toned man had been hitting the top scores the moment he had seen the shadows of the hidden curves under that innocent white towel (as if it hadn't been sufficient already to see the finely shaped buttocks shift in his underwear and tease his groin from close range), but the odd aura that had taken over the teacher's whole being on each step Kakashi had taken towards the strangely tensing chuunin. It was not an open invitation that he had sensed to curl around the man's presence.

It had been a sharply cutting blade of defiance.

"If you keep the fridge open any longer we might as well have a small simulation on fighting the enemy in the Land of Snow, Kakashi-san."

After a stilled second, Kakashi had to remind himself that as much as his assassin's instincts were screaming at him over the many times they were encouraged to treat everything at hand as a weapon, the parsnip he was currently contemplating hardly offered him any more credibility in the lower rank's eyes should he fling it at the man.

"Maa, good morning to you too, sensei", Kakashi said into the fridge while ignoring the feel of an unmistakably unimpressed stare burning his neck, and while the rush of adrenaline died out of his veins, the ex-ANBU put his pale hands in good use by picking a few bowls from the chilled shelves and placing them on the counter. "I see that you've been busy."

An affirming hum reached the silver-haired jounin's ears, and while he removed the plates covering the bowls and took a look at the variety of delicacies he was presented with, Kakashi sensed the younger man move to stand between him and the fridge. Out the corner of the gray eye, the masked man observed the tan hands put a pile of dirty plates into the sink and then glanced shortly at the chuunin squatting down and digging out the rest of the cooked food for the older nin's perusal.

"I made us some soup if you like, Kakashi-san", the slightly raspy baritone of the chuunin said amidst the sounds of clinking plates and scooping spoons. The man's tone of speak was casual and calm, playful even, but somehow much more charged than the lightning bolt that hit nearby and shook the floor beneath their feet.

"I noticed, yes, but I think that I would save that for later. Thank you, though, for the offer, Iruka-sensei", the copy-nin said and gave a small nod. Then the smiling mismatched eyes were turned to the teacher who shrugged and placed the hefty pot back onto the fridge shelf. "Although you make me wonder if I should be expecting someone to drop by. We've never had this much to eat for breakfast."

"No", a small yawn stretched the mocha-colored jaws when the young teacher stood back up and closed the fridge before rolling up the sleeves of his dark shirt, and Kakashi quirked an eyebrow at the tired manner how the tan hand rose to rub the dark eyes. "I merely thought that we could benefit from having something warm to eat, considering the appealing weather we're having." As if feeling pleased that its efforts were noticed, the thunder decided to tickle the ground near their house with another lightning bolt. After placing the plug in the sink, Iruka turned the tap on and filled the dimly lit space with the sound of running hot water. "Besides, even though you're on a mission it doesn't mean that you can't enjoy good food, Kakashi-san." The look in the dark eyes gave nothing away as the tan man kept his focus on the filling sink, but the tone used in the teacher's words was enough to hint the ex-ANBU captain that the bright-minded chuunin had been able to deduct how little he had eaten in the past days when they hadn't been able to enjoy each other's company.

While testing out the marinated vegetables with his hidden taste buds, Kakashi could feel the short hairs on his neck stand in rigid attention at the precisely pronounced words, and the jounin briefly remembered how things usually turned out for him when that particular undertone became apparent in their discussions. Thus, like any other jounin who had been unfortunate enough to trigger that particular nerve in the sensei's system, Kakashi went for the well-known move to save the remnants of his pride from the strict lecture he was sure to get for not looking after himself. He changed the subject. "How are you feeling today, Iruka-sensei?" The water tap was closed, and while taking a bite of his freshly made sandwich, Kakashi heard the plates being moved around in the hot water after the washing liquid was added to it. The chuunin was clearly torn between continuing the surfacing lecture mode or dismissing the current topic and taking the offered diversion. The quiet sigh was enough of an answer for the jounin to relax his tensed shoulders.

"I already contacted the Hokage Tower about the matter we talked about yesterday, but Tsunade-sama was currently unavailable for an audience. They said that she'd come to check up on us as soon as the other matters are dealt with. I also ordered some food ingredients to stock up the kitchen, as well more coffee for you since that's the last of it what you have waiting in the coffee maker. Just put it on if you want to make some." While Kakashi confirmed the alarming news concerning his dark-roasted addiction and put the tiny percolator on for brewing himself the last, much needed cup, behind his back the dish brush commenced the scrubbing on the used utensils. "Other than that, I consider the situation being stable at the moment." The short burst of rinsing water disrupted the low rumble coming from a distant lightning bolt. "How about you, Kakashi-san?" Based on the leveled voice of the other man, Kakashi was tempted to bet that the teacher wasn't really interested in his answer and being polite just to humor him.

Apart from wanting to pinch the younger man's ass-cheeks with his lightning for the chuunin being so blatantly blunt with his indifferent attitude, the copy-nin gave a meek smile on the masked face despite knowing all too well that the other man behind his back missed it as he kept his eyes trained on the brewing coffee maker. "Maa. I guess I've been better, but otherwise it's all good at the moment."

"Even when you've hardly eaten anything else than three fish sandwiches and half a pear in the last two days while I wasn't here to cook for you?"

The bastard did nothing to hide the smug tone in that taunting question.

After deeming his countering moves utterly useless against the equally stubborn opponent, a defeated huff left the masked mouth and both the silver-haired head and the pale shoulders drooped in mocking surrender. "..Yes, Iruka-sensei." A victorious snort colored with a following bubble of laughter was heard from behind his back, and despite getting his pride rubbed to his face once again, Kakashi couldn't help but give a small chuckle to himself. Whether his brightening mood was due to the possibility of the younger man actually caring about his well-being despite the man's equal eagerness to kick his ass to the next weeks whenever they interacted, or the passing wave of warmth that resulted from the fleeting thought, the copy-nin couldn't care enough to categorize it. What he did wish to get in order, though, were the matters that he wasn't sure if either of them were willing to discuss. Then again, he hardly believed that their situation could get any worse than it was if they just sat down and had a long chat about all the things that had happened to them ever since they had sealed themselves into the light-gray house. Maybe it was time he pulled himself up from the deep pit in which he had managed to dig himself by being the arrogant asshole the temperamental man always accused him to be.

After all, how much could it really hurt to play the game honestly for a change? "..Iruka-sensei-"

"Kakashi-san."

Surprised enough to slip out of the customary look of severe boredom, the jounin's gray eye snapped wide open at the rather strongly spoken words, and the silver-haired nin turned to give the man washing the dishes an uncharacteristically attentive look as Kakashi's silent musings were cut short. The dark eyes kept their focus on the plate that was scrubbed by the honey-toned hands, but Kakashi could easily detect the absent look in the brown orbs. Nevertheless, the sudden change in the air between them made him hesitate if he should acknowledge the unexpected opening of discussion the brunette had offered for him to take. The hands cleaning the dish slowed their movement, and after what seemed like making a decision, the chuunin turned his eyes away from the sink and gave the Sharingan user an unreadable sidelong look, which Kakashi answered with his own set of gestures, the masked jaw stopping briefly with its chewing on the tasty rice ball filled with bean curd while the unyielding gray eye was kept firmly in contact with the deep brown orbs.

What followed next made the masked shinobi almost choke on his bite.

"..I learned the meaning of fear when I didn't even understand the concept of duty. Considering the times, though, it doesn't make me any more special than the shinobi working next to me." The words were calm and quiet, but what made Kakashi's gut stir with conflicting feelings was the rather intense look taking over the brown irises that collided with the surprisingly colorless voice of the younger man. Then the teacher turned his attention back to the kitchen sink, and the tan hands returned to their task on washing the dishes, the sounds of scrubbing and rinsing curling around the words flowing from the sun-kissed lips in an unhurried pace. "On the other hand, feeling fear doesn't make any man lesser, moreover facing the fear and dealing with it the best way one can. Incidentally, not only do I know that, but I also know that I'm one of the most influential persons to affect the minds of our village's children as they learn about our merciless profession." A small soup bowl was put onto the drying rack. "...When they learn that it's actually quite mundane to get one's name carved into the stone at some point, mostly before the age of forty as you once pointed out." The tan fingers ran over the smooth ceramic surface in an almost tender way before the hand was dropped to rest on the sink's edge. "I'm the first to evaluate which of those kids won't live past sixteen years if taken to the field...and then see them walk through the gates with their jounin instructor." The perceptive eyes turned to give a pointed glance at the jounin's direction, and with the given reminder of his first long-term mission with the terror triplets that had went wrong on way too many levels for him to even start counting them, Kakashi could see the sharp point the chuunin had carefully concealed in the calmly spoken words. A small chuckle left the full-lipped mouth as the dark-haired chuunin turned his eyes down to look at the rippling surface of the now lukewarm water, and the narrow, gray eye followed as a honey-toned finger slowly traced a kanji for a name the both men knew on the water's surface, the drawn lines disappearing into the wavering surface the moment they were completed, just like the life of a shinobi. "...That boy has given me plenty of reasons to be afraid, you know."

Rendered into total silence, Kakashi lifted his attention away from the water and observed the man next to him: the calm, soft smile that splayed on the usually very foul mouth, the slightly melancholic look that swirled in the dark eyes, and the tan, highly trained hands, the other holding the dish brush in the now dish-free water while the other was curled in a loose fist against the smooth metal edge; each precisely controlled show of emotion that were given for him to decipher. Before he could form any questions or comments based on the information he had managed to gather from the other, the plug was plucked out from the sink and the mocha-colored mouth opened once again, dissolving the soft-spoken emotions away from the dark-skinned man's aura as the suddenly narrowed eyes took on a hardened, determined look.

"In that sense, if by being a 'practice-oriented' teacher, as you so elegantly put it, I make sure that those little hellions are sure to return back from their missions and I don't have to attend any more funerals of the unfortunate as I already have to because sometimes all the luck and skill doesn't prevent it when it's time for someone to die, then I'm more than happy to drill the battle tactics and projectile angles into their tiny heads by making them actually do the things they'll be assigned to perform, even if my own physical well-being is constantly in danger from their clumsy kunai handling skills and idiotically executed attempts. Working with Naruto should have already shown you how some of us need the hard methods of pragmatic training to improve our skills." An amused, warm grin snuck on the tan face, it spreading the bright glint of humor and life back into the dark, previously saddened eyes. "Not many have spotted that tendency in me, so I have to give you some points for that."

Spotting his cue to join the conversation the other was engaging him in, Kakashi gave a long, pensive hum at the chuunin's spontaneous monologue before giving the slightly smiling man a passing look. "Those are wise and kind words of a capable teacher, Iruka-sensei. I can see why the brats adore you." To his pleasing note, a flicker of surprise passed in the teacher's sharp eyes. Then again, their discussions hadn't usually delved into such depths before, so hearing that the annoying and arrogant Hatake could actually reply without twisting the words for his own amusement was apparently somewhat of a miracle to the volatile sensei. On the other hand, spotting the keen flash in the perceptive eyes was enough to tattle that those words were not the ones the scheming Umino had been waiting for. Being a man not to disregard the given requests, Kakashi decided to yank the bait the other had dangled in front of him for a good while already. Slowly, the darkly dressed jounin turned his upper body to face the man standing next to him. "..You don't leave yourself open, do you", Kakashi said with a low voice and tilted his head in a thoughtful manner, the gray eye being narrowed into a considering slit on the pale, masked face.

The dark eyes were turned to answer the intense look in the gray eye, and a feeble smile with a dismissive shrug met the copy-nin's hidden accusation. "A shinobi is a creature of habit, I suppose. Considering that it wasn't a question, I'd say that you have worked on it long enough to know that very well already."

That...was a bit unnerving answer. "Then tell me something that we don't have in common."

The thick silence dropped on them as unannounced as The Legendary Stupid Brothers did on an unattended lunch box, and the men could both feel the air crackle from something that didn't share a connection with the roaring thunder on any weather scale.

Then, a dry yet devilish chuckle escaped the brown-haired shinobi, and the dark eyebrows rose in a mocking manner on the sun-kissed forehead. "Knowing the fact that it's already half past five in the afternoon and regarding that you have oddly enough called your current dinner a breakfast, I'd say that there are quite a lot of things that we don't have in common at the moment, Kakashi-san", came the snickered reply from the now positively smirking lips, and the brown eyes were obviously enjoying the current view they were given as Kakashi could feel his whole brain stumble to an abrupt halt over the impressively pulled verbal counterattack.

...He had slept for how many hours?

The bright bark of laughter that greeted his utterly aghast look pulled the copy-nin out of his stupor, and the academy instructor shook his dark-haired head, turned away from the kitchen and while he walked towards the bedroom, the man cast a playful look at Kakashi's direction over the broad, tan shoulder. "You already know my opinion on handing out openings too easily, genius. I'll go and sort through our laundry now that you've finally decided to crawl out of your bed. In the meantime, you better eat more than just those rice balls while re-checking your inner clock. I didn't make the soup just to decorate the fridge with it." The teasing voice was quick to tick the needed nerves to make the masked jounin wonder how much it would cost him to do some target practicing with the flippant sadist who gave him the final snort before disappearing into the shared sleeping quarters.

On the other hand, if the pony-tailed devil had unintentionally added a little more sway in his step, Kakashi didn't mind.


"Is it just me or would it be about time for someone to create a bit more variety in the standard shinobi clothes?" Iruka's warm voice greeted Kakashi as the jounin stepped to the bedroom door after finishing his late snack (and after berating himself for letting his inner clock to fail and humiliate him for the first time ever), and the masked man was presented with a sight of an amused sensei sitting cross-legged on the floor and looking exasperatedly at the sorted piles of various pieces of clothing that were surrounding the man. The brightly smiling chuunin gave the standing jounin a look which clearly asked his opinion on the matter, and Kakashi gave the different shades of gray, blue and black a short glance before snorting at the teacher's musings and joining the man on the floor.

"Maa, I'm sure there is a clever reason for why our outfit is called 'a uniform', sensei", the jounin noted with an air of teasing in the smiling eyes, and was pleased to gain a rumble of laughter from the other man. Then a black singlet was shoved at him and after a short inspection he was almost certain that it was his and tossed the garment onto his futon before picking up a dark shirt from an other pile.

"That's a good point, Kakashi-san. Though would it really hurt to add at least one more shade of, say, green to the list?" In the copy-nin's amused opinion, the teacher was clearly out on a mission to get their quota of nonsense for the day. Yet another shirt was lifted in sight. "Is this yours or mine?"

The pale hands took the shirt and after a beat gave it back to the chuunin. "It's yours, I believe. Most of mine have the mask still intact on them." A confirming hum reached his ears, and the jounin couldn't help but offer a wide, masked smirk to the pensive chuunin who was currently comparing two pairs of boxers on his lap. "Ah, but we do have an extra green on the list. Sadly it's all being used on Gai and Lee." This time the resulted laughter was loud and surprised as the sensei was clearly caught off-guard, and Kakashi gave himself a small pat on his back for dishing up such a good counterattack to the given opening.

A series of poorly controlled chuckles rang in the room as Iruka tried to gather his wits, and the teacher wiped his eyes clear from the tears of mirth before flashing a mockingly suffering look to the equally humored jounin. "On the second thought, brown is also a nice color."

"Depends who's wearing it, sensei. Imagine-"

"Don't even think about using Gai-sensei or Lee as an example, bastard. I have enough mental scars to deal with already without you adding any more to them." One pair of boxers was thrown on Kakashi's futon, and after a second of thought, the other pair followed.

"Now now, you can't know who I was picking to use as a reference. It could have also been-" The rest of his sentence was muffled into a sleeveless shirt which launched a surprise attack at him.

"I haven't accepted a mission that keeps me away from the crazy world of a desk chuunin just to have you here to remind me of all the omnideprived lunatics I'm forced to work with in my everyday life and struggle through their antics with feeble success whenever they decide to 'bring some excitement' to our shifts. Not to mention all the crazy jounins who have the nerve to whine about their mission scrolls and screw up their reports." Two black tank tops were neatly folded and put next to the ranting chuunin.

"Maa-"

"Including you, Hatake-san." The ignited, fiery challenge was clear in the flashing brown eyes, and the pull of the full lips was enough to tell Kakashi that his obvious yet interrupted comment was humored even though it could lead to some physical injuries should the copy-nin choose the wrong words to continue their amiable squabbling.

"Well, to be truthful, we always have wondered how you actually managed to pull all that patience and energy out of yourself in order to deal with us in the first place, Iruka-sensei", the jounin drawled and cast a smiling look towards the honey-toned chuunin who seemed to find something rather amusing in the spoken words if the soft chuckle was anything to go by.

"I thought it was already widely known that I have a severe tendency towards masochism, seeing that not only do I work with manic children most of the week but also have voluntarily taken the offered position to handle the chaos of a mission desk, moreover being always available for Tsunade-sama and her own personal escapades of a drunken Hokage. Having agreed on working with you for a whole month speaks for itself when regarded in this particular light, don't you agree?" Iruka couldn't help the flow of rumbling laughter leaving his lips when he spotted the flat stare in the gray eye. It had been a while for him to make Hatake scowl like that.

"Would you like me to agree with that, then?"

The voice of the older nin was casual and light, and already taking the offered opening for one of his snippy jabs, Iruka opened his mouth, but thought better of it when the chuunin caught the look in the lone eye. The narrowed, coal-gray eye wasn't fooling the teacher enough to dismiss the flicker of somber emotions being briefly displayed in it amidts the warm humor the older man was showing, and a pang of an odd, heavy feeling hit the tan chest at the sight of a rueful, darkened aura passing the masked man's demeanor.

For the first time during their mission, Iruka didn't know what to say.

Suddenly, the shift of air caught their attention, and Kakashi turned to look who had entered the corridor behind him, only to be greeted with the sight of an armored body and a striking white, painted porcelain mask, which wasn't quite enough to hide the awkwardness of the ANBU from his former captain as the copy-nin noticed the grocery bags held in both gloved hands. An almost silent curse was also registered by the Sharingan user's keen hearing, only this time from behind his back, and a tweak of undefined restless heat tickled Kakashi's nerves as he turned to catch a glimpse of a passing red hue on the high cheekbones before Iruka hastily turned his burning face away from him and pretended to focus on the dark gray muscle shirt held in the honey-toned hands.

Like many times before during their odd mission, Hatake Kakashi had a fleeting feeling that someone was out there to get him with the whole mess they were currently in.

In any case, he had a kohai to deal with.

"I'll be back in a moment", Kakashi said and after receiving a tiny nod from the tensed teacher who much to the jounin's wonder refused to meet his eye, the lightning user picked himself up and stepped into the corridor where the other masked assassin was waiting for him. Without a word, the jounin closed the bedroom door behind him and nodded towards the kitchen, knowing that the other man took the order as it was mutely said. Side by side, the highly-trained killers walked to the kitchen and the full bags were put on the counter before both the pale and armored hands set to work in emptying them.

"How are you and Umino-san doing, senpai?" The asking voice was calm and professionally detached underneath the painted mask.

A passing shrug met the inquiring words, though more out of showing an attitude than answering the question. "Fine, I guess. Iruka-sensei is feeling much better. He even cooked today, which is a good sign." The ex-ANBU dug out the much awaited coffee refill pouches from the food bags and while stifling a cheer of joy, the silver-haired man placed them gently next to his empty tins that were waiting to be filled up.

Amidst the internal happy dance that was going around in the masked coffee addict's mind, the curt nod from the pensive ANBU was registered. "Good to know."

Anyone walking into the same room would have had a hard time to get through the thick wall of aggressive silence that suddenly filled the whole kitchen and the space between the two black ops. Both the former and the active assassin continued emptying the bags as if neither of them had noticed the shift in the air that was currently being suppressed by a clash of dark intentions wrapping around it like the jaws of a predator closing around the neck of its prey.

"A wooden tea box, Tenzou?" The first cut through the tense ambiance was swift and merciless.

"Better than giving the man a heart attack, senpai." The countering blow was equally cruel.

"At least I didn't try to push a hole into his pants."

The barely choked cough said enough on that topic, and the sharp nails of the black glove scratched the turtleneck collar in an embarrassed manner. "I wasn't really thinking at that moment."

The answering stare from the unimpressed copy-nin spoke volumes.

Then the masked eyes turned to give a passing glance at the empty corridor behind their backs before the ANBU took a firm hold on the bare, pale arm and a low-spoken whisper pierced through the crackling thunder that was still loitering above the village. "But now that I have been thinking, I think it's only fair to let you know that my intentions towards Umino-san run a bit deeper than just providing some tea to him, and I would hate to fight my former captain over something he himself doesn't seem to value much."

If the men hadn't known better, the violent strike of lightning could have just as easily been caused by the look passing the sharpened gray eye of the former Hound the moment the kohai's words were registered.

"Good evening, ANBU-san."

Shocked enough from the fact that there was someone who indeed managed to sneak up on two ridiculously skilled elites, without a blink both Kakashi and the ANBU turned their attention towards the source of the calmly spoken words, only to be greeted with an unreadable look in the dark eyes that were observing them a dozen feet away. The kohai let go of Kakashi's arm in an instant and the both high-ranks felt more or less unnervingly exposed under the speculative silence that had dashed through the space after the teacher had made his presence known. While making sure that their discomfort couldn't have been detected by the sharp-minded academy teacher, both the ANBU and the copy-nin were uncharacteristically unanimous over one specific question that was obvious for them both to have now running in their heads.

How much did the chuunin hear?

"..Good evening, Umino-san", the slightly nervous voice of the ANBU made it hard for Kakashi not to roll his eyes, but noticing the oddly flat look that greeted the muttered reply was sufficient to keep the jounin from making any weird faces.

In both assassins' opinion, the rise of the dark eyebrow did feel a bit more pronounced with the lightning backing it up. "I see that the food I ordered is delivered."

"Um, yes. Everything should be delivered, Umino-san." As if sensing the tense ambiance slowly descending over them all in the kitchen, the ANBU stepped away from Kakashi and gave the lightning user a rather long look beneath the white porcelain mask. "I should be going now." With that the animal-masked man turned stiffly to walk away from the kitchen, although the assassin was pleased to feel the masked amusement die from the jounin's presence as the man of thousand jutsus suddenly realized just how close to the dark-skinned chuunin the armored nin was actually getting. To Kakashi's further annoyance, the younger man didn't step away from the armored bodyguard who grazed the teacher's inner range.

"I take it that Tsunade-sama won't be seeing us today since it's already getting past seven", Iruka said in a calm tone, and the dark eyes followed the path of the ANBU as the masked man walked past the teacher only two feet away, them both missing the sharp look thrown at the ANBU's brown-haired head from the direction of the kitchen counter.

A silent nod was given to the question. "She asked me to inform that there are things she must handle first, but will come over as soon as she can. Hokage-sama also told that if anything urgent happens, you can contact either us or Shizune-san. Have a good night, Umino-san. Senpai." With that the masked man turned to Kakashi and gave a small salute before vanishing into thin air.

After finding its courage once more, the silence slunk out of its hiding place and settled to fidget between the two men left alone in the dimly lit kitchen. Slowly, the dark eyes turned from looking the spot where the masked elite had disappeared, and with a long, almost hesitant sweep across the floorboards, they were lifted to look at the single gray. Then, calmly, a bronze-skinned hand moved from the chuunin's side, and the moment the hand and the object it was holding were lifted better in sight, the earlier odd look in the dark eyes made way to the much more familiar fire that set the brown orbs into a low flame of impending scolding designed to make the others' lives hell and beyond, which in turn made the gray eye widen a fraction at the regocnition of one innocent black book while the owner of the said eye started to mentally go through his escape training.

"Would you mind explaining to me why I found this underneath the piled laundry, untouched, with two new seals in it, Kakashi-san?"

The thunder had never sounded so malevolent in the silver-haired jounin's ears.