A/N: Got my degree, then went for a holiday. It's good to be back, though. I hope that you all enjoy this one.


Day 14, part 4: The wall of elephants

The dusk had faded, and the creeping shadows both lengthened and darkened all around the village where flickering lights started to illuminate both the streets and the houses between which they curved and crossed each other. The gentle buzzing and cricking of insects filled the quiet air of the early night, the sounds of crickets and alike informing everyone about the changing seasons. The faint music of nature flowed over a high fence wall surrounding an unassuming, light-gray house, it settling into the quiet corners and slithering up the bare walls, not minding one silent jounin who was crouching over a mess littering the weathered floor of the terrace, the pale hands of the masked man gingerly picking up broken shards and upturned bowls; a squeak of piping coming from the bathroom further inside the house made both the man and the nocturnal sounds give a pause in the cooling night.

After a hushed minute, a lone gray eye peered over the darkening backyard of the small house, and the lean legs straightened up as the well-muscled body righted itself from the squat. Slowly, the bare feet descended the steps to the yard and strolled across the damp and muddy ground towards a flat piece of wood that stuck up from the soil in a rather violent angle – the tray that had had a rather unfortunate luck in the previous hour. The man stopped looming over the ill-treated serviceware, and the tilt of a silver-haired head tattled of a passing thought as a lone eye took in the angle and the depth in which the tray was embedded to the ground before the said tray was dislodged from the mud, given a shake to clear the excess dirt and then taken back to the awaiting pile of more or less cracked and dirty dishes. Sounds of quiet footsteps echoed through the house as he ascended back on the porch, and the silent man gave a passing glance at the training room through the open double doors. At the sight of an other, equally quiet man standing in the middle of torn tatami mats and messily exploded wood, measuring up the splintered sliding doors that still hung limply from their almost dislocated rails, the pale jounin paused his doings.

"I could help you with those." His words dissolved the silence with the efficiency of a small explosive tag, and Kakashi gave a small cough to dispel the urge to face the other direction when the pony-tailed head of the other nin whipped around and the startled brown eyes fixed their look on him. A myriad of social masks flickered over the mocha-skinned face before they settled for polite acceptation on the proposed action.

"Ah. Well. That would be the wisest," Iruka said before flicking his eyes to look somewhere else than the gray eye that still held its focus on him. "I can also clean the splinters from the floor first, if you're busy over there," came with a vague wave of a tan hand.

One look at the carnage of edibles by his feet, and Kakashi made an easy decision. "No, I don't think that these are going anywhere at the moment, so we might as well get those down before they come down by themselves," he said while putting down the tray for later use and stepping into the training room, carefully noting that Iruka wasn't the only one who kept some distance between them as opposed to previous days. Knowing that he himself wasn't really feeling any solid ground beneath his feet right that moment either and wasn't too keen to test his luck after what had happened so far, the ex-ANBU turned his attention to the miserable remnants of two doors and cocked his head in a wondering angle; the sense of tentative camaraderie that fluttered between them two despite the tense air was a welcomed feeling. "So. Which one goes first?"

"It seems to me that the half of the left one, which isn't scattered all around the floor here, is easier to take down without the fear of tearing down the whole railing – I suppose. Can't be too sure, since the right one appears to have had taken less damage, but looks can be deceiving," Iruka ventured as he stepped next to the other, albeit keeping a few feet away, and his unsaid appreciation over the jounin's discretion and respect for the much needed personal space for them both didn't go unnoticed. "If you could hold the door from the other side and I hold from this side, we may get the upper part down without damaging either it or ourselves in the process," the man spoke as he already trotted to the end of the rail and peered up at the doorframe, searching for any blocks or cracks that could prevent them from successfully removing the ruined door from its frame.

Kakashi nodded and stepped over to the other side of the door. Then he took a firm yet cautious hold of the door and gave it a testing rattle to see if the rail indeed held. A sudden sneeze made him almost tear the door down with sheer surge of adrenaline making his arms twitch violently, and the masked man peeked over to the other side to see what was happening. Surely enough, the jounin was greeted with a sight of one embarrassed chuunin rubbing his scarred nose vigorously, a sight which made the masked mouth stretch into a sheepish smile. "Ah. Sorry about that."

"No harm done," came with a sniff and a following cough. "Shouldn't have stuck my nose that close up. Well," with that, the sun-kissed lips flashed a grin, "ready over there?"

"Whenever you say," Kakashi mused with a sliver of a smile on his face and took a better hold on the door once more. If he noticed Iruka shortly hesitating where to put his hands so as not to touch his, he left it unmentioned. The sudden tease of an electric buzz was enough to make them both pause for a dreadful minute, before they both released the breaths they had held as the tremor of air went past them.

"...Alright then. Let's give it a go," he heard from the chuunin's side, and slowly, Kakashi started to lift the door up on its rail, feeling its grip edge beginning to dislodge from the track it had been resting on in the rail after initial resistance, the edges of the contact piece letting go with a short, shrill squeak that made the both men wince on their respective sides.

They both held their attention on the piece of the annihilated door while they listened to any tattling cracks and creeks of wood that could be the warning of getting something else than just half of a door dropped to their heads as they shared its weight between them. Kakashi spared a quick glance at the tan fingers curled up around the door's edge, the strain in the other's hand muscles visible to him. "Everything alright there?" An answering grunt came from the other side, and the jounin took it as it was. Slowly, the two nudged the door off the rail. "Easy now." This time, a barely suppressed snort came from Iruka's side, and the jounin rolled his eyes at that, not minding the warm smile playing on his lips at the other's blatant show of opinion about him saying unnecessary things to a teacher who had plenty of opportunities on his average days to repeat those exact words to both children and adults alike. The door swayed slightly in their firm holds as they slowly eased it resting to the ground between them, both letting out a mutual grunt of relief the minute the heavy wood touched the floor and no sliding tracks fell upon their necks.

"Let's put this aside for now," Iruka said and patted what was still left of the door before taking a good hold onto it and lowering it lying on the floor with the help of the pale man who was quick to assist, them both taking a step back from one another as soon as the door left their hands. Then he turned to observe the other door, which had taken considerately less damage, yet it had been exploded outwards and thus split in half from the middle, leaving a lower and upper half missing contact with each other; the upper part hanging sadly without its counterpart, the lower leaning precariously the way it had been blown to.

Seeing how the brown eyes inspected the damage, Kakashi turned his face to the other direction and scratched his mane of silver hair in a way that spoke to bemused Iruka about something the chuunin hadn't quite expected from the other man, and yet what he had trouble to discern. "Maa, you know, we could also leave that to ANBU, as they will likely install us new doors."

"Now there's something that a regular chuunin doesn't hear everyday," Iruka mused in noncommittal tone while consciously turning his gaze back at the task at hand and not letting it wander over the mane of silver and the darkness of the mask, never mind feeling with every hair of his neck the look that the jounin was giving at him. "The mystery of the classified S-ranked missions, finally revealed."

The silence managed to hold its poker face for the full two seconds before both men, the equally feared chuunin and jounin, burst into laughter that chased the nearest crickets away over the fence.

"I should tell Tsunade-sama that the next time we see her; tip her off that you're onto us," Kakashi chuckled and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm as the laughter died down, it giving space to the far more amiable silence he was pleased to note lingering between him and the younger man after the initial awkwardness that had been brewing between them after literally taking their disputes to the mattress. "Don't ask her to lower our wages, though, that would be bad for business."

"I would never," Iruka stated primly and quirked an easy grin at the second rumble of laughter that came from the older man. "Though as tempting as the idea is, Tsunade-sama may not share the same thought, and frankly I've had enough close encounters with her temper to keep a low profile for a while," he continued and strolled over to the other door halves. "I hardly think that the imprint of her fist makes my scar look any prettier than it is already."

"Maa, do I sense some self-criticism there?" Kakashi inquired with a humored drawl while he too stepped to the doors and pressed at the lower half of the door that had almost been torn out of its rail with his foot, feeling it give away under his heel before feebly bouncing back up, an agonized creak accompanying the motion.

"I didn't say it was ugly, did I," Iruka retorted with an absent tone as he watched rather worriedly how the lower half of the door wobbled in its track. They might as well pluck that one right out, it wouldn't do difference to the damage that was already done to the poor thing. The ANBU might as well change the whole lower rail, once they were onto it. Then something completely else caught the sharp eyes."Why are your feet all muddy? I thought you showered before me."

"I had something to retrieve from the yard," came the calmly spoken reply; yet the one slender, dark eyebrow that rose on the tan face as the chuunin leveled the jounin with a look that many troublemaking pre-genin students knew by heart already was enough to make the ex-ANBU swallow the forming tease.

"Sometimes you make me wonder," Iruka muttered and gave the jounin a look that booked no place nor time for rebellion. "The showers are right behind your back. Go on." As the pale man complied the order, not without letting his silent opinion be known if the dry stare of the gray eye was anything, the chuunin focused his mind back on the dilemma of demolished doors, though not without a wondering shake of the dark-haired head. Jounins: people who knew twenty ways to cross a river without getting a splat of water on them but at the same time were perfectly capable of leaving muddy footprints all over tatami mats like a courageous three-year-old flirting with the danger that was their mommy's wrath.

"The mats were pretty much ruined already, you know," Kakashi's lazy voice drawled over the sound of spraying water. As he cleaned his toes, the jounin felt he wouldn't have been so surprised if he had caught the chuunin make a face at his turned back.

Then again, if the tone with which Iruka spoke could have made a face it would have been positively glowering at him. "Has your field training ever included the idea of salvaging all that is still of any use? I don't think Tsunade-sama grants us the luxury of new mats before we can convince her that we're mature enough to keep ourselves from further destructing this house." The strong arms were crossed over well-muscled chest and the copy-nin had to strain his hearing to catch what the other muttered under his breath. "I wouldn't be surprised if she really did put us in a tent when tomorrow comes."

"Maa, that wouldn't be too far-fetched, I agree with you there." Deeming his feet clean enough, the jounin stopped the scrubbing and rubbed them clean with the nearest towel, the man then turning to meet his mission partner who was apparently contemplating the life of a lint on his shirt sleeve with the level of scrutiny that made his idly twirling thoughts halt. "Iruka?"

Jerking away from the inner workings of his puzzling mind, Iruka snapped his head back up so fast he shortly feared his neck would cramp. "Hm? You said something?" If the way the older man had said his name without the formal suffix made a fine tremor travel down his spine, the teacher made damned sure not to show it before they both really knew where they stood.

The silvery eyebrows furrowed in a slightly concerned frown. The look the elite had caught flicking in the other's eyes made his insides tug into a small knot. "Are you alright?"

For their both defense, the both shinobis, men that had made lies and masks the tools of their trade, knew they were reading way too much into that seemingly small and easy question at that very moment.

To his surprise, Kakashi got to see how a shadow of a smile made its pass on the full lips of the other man who spoke with a baritone far warmer than his avoiding gaze was. "Shouldn't I be asking that from you as well...Kakashi?"

It seemed that neither of them had missed the page the other had also stopped upon, but Kakashi wasn't sure if he was all ready to cross the t's and dot the i's as the clock ticked closer to ten in the evening after the day they had had in the house. After the initial afterglow of sex had worn off and they had gradually been forced to face the fact that they had to decide where to go from there, the jounin had made the suggestion of getting a shower and then cleaning up, conveniently disregarding the large white elephant that was the issue of their very shy tongues on matters that mattered, and thus giving the chuunin space to put his own thoughts back on track. It seemed that leaving the younger nin in the bedroom had been the right choice as opposed to taking a shower at the same time, since they had managed to not look like awkward teenagers by the time Kakashi had come back to dress up and Iruka had went to the vacant bathroom. Now, it seemed, the elephant was catching up on them. "...Let's take that door down."

"Alright." The nod of the dark-haired head was too ready and too pronounced to be anything but a way to shoo the looming proverbial mammal away to bother someone else for the time being, but the jounin decided to keep the commenting at minimum, for he was sharing the other's state of mind at that point.

Slowly, they rolled the door a bit further away from its lower counterpart before cautiously nudging it off and planting atop the one taken down earlier. Silently they worked, neither of them keen on voicing out what had just happened in the earlier hours of the day, quietly agreeing with one another that it was a discussion that should wait until they have had enough time to regain their balance. They kept the hands to themselves, their heads bowed, their eyes from meeting each other for too long, as if being unsure of what they would see in the other should they look too long – or what they'd be showing to the other about themselves. There was no need for words as they pulled the lower door half off the rail, it giving an ear-shattering screech as wood hitched against wood none too gently, making the men grimace. Soon enough, three miserable pieces of what used to be grand wooden doors lay in a pile between the heavily breathing men, both of them assessing the damage for a minute before a cough from the chuunin cleared the heavy atmosphere that had settled on their shoulders.

"Why don't you continue what you were doing over there now," the tan man said and gave a curt nod at the direction of the terrace behind Kakashi's back. "I think I'll manage the rest myself."

Appreciating the tact offer of giving them both much needed distance from one another, Kakashi nodded and took his cue. "Fair enough. I'll see that the terrace gets clean." Without further notice, the jounin turned his back at the other and strolled across the scorched and torn floor as casually as his peers knew he could, ignoring the heavy feel of intensely looking dark brown eyes on the skin of his rigid neck. Before they had even noticed it, one elephant had turned into two, then three, and the further the slow minutes ticked into the night, the stronger the presence of a silent wall of hard and immobile bodies of air built between them became.


The kitchen looked like a scene of a poorly succeeded D-rank mission. That was the first thought that came to Iruka's mind as he looked at the chaos of cluttered tea sieves, coffee tins and dishes on the counter, the cupboard door that was still cracked, clothes that lay scattered haphazardly on the floor and the very off-putting sight of two chopsticks sticking out of one wall with a pile of wall plaster on the ground below. Having cleaned the splinters from the training room with a broom and a dustpan, the chuunin had walked into the kitchen to put the litter into the trash, only to stop on his tracks as he finally registered the sight that he was currently staring at.

At least he had a good excuse to avoid thinking about the state of their bedroom for now, and seeing that the jounin was still hunting for the stains on the terrace with the rags and the buckets of water, even if Iruka himself doubted he could have seen anything in the darkness where the jounin was currently hustling in, the teacher decided that it was as good time as any to clear the kitchen before the older man came back in. After turning on the rest of the lights on the kitchen counter, the splinters were put to the trash and then the countertop was swept clean and the cluttered things were put in their respective places. Missing a box that usually had sat next to the larger one gave the chuunin a pause before the man turned to search the floor for a golden-colored tea box. Soon enough, the little box was spotted lying lifelessly next to a wall it had apparently hit, if the small dent on the wall was anything to go by, its contents currently littering the floorboards – a sight that made the tea-addicted teacher frown in dismay. With a couple of quick steps, the dark-skinned nin reached the box and gingerly knelt to inspect the damage: luckily none of the pouches seemed to have torn open on the impact, nor did the box itself seem to have taken any damage. Whatever wood type there had been used, it was surprisingly tough. In a few minutes, the teas were put back into safety and the polished wood gave a clack as the box lid was closed by the honey-toned hands. After a gentle swipe of a calloused palm, the little box found itself put back next to the larger one on the kitchen counter.

Next off were the clothes. The passing heat on the tan cheekbones was unsurprising as the man set on picking up the damp and rumpled shirt and top from the floor before unceremoniously tossing them into the laundry machine under the counter. A beat of indecision later, the man took a detour to the bathroom, and soon enough the laundry machine was filled with dirtied clothes; the dark brown eyes were determined not to note the state the clothes were in, the ruined boxers and soiled sweats passing swiftly through the nimble hands on their way to be cleaned. A turn of the switch and a press of the button later, the thrum of the machine set on a night-wash program filled the quiet kitchen. After giving himself a nod over the finished work, the dark-haired man gave his surroundings a brief look, and then went to pluck the chopsticks out of the wall they had pierced. The dark eyes peered at the pointy ends in thought, as it appeared that chakra or no chakra, the man Iruka was currently playing house with wasn't really lacking in physical strength. A flush of heat traveled down the bronze-skinned body at that thought, and Iruka had to close his eyes to keep in the sudden urge to puncture the wall further with the same chopsticks. By taking in a calming breath and counting to ten for a good measure, the distraught sensei managed to chase the passing flow of tension out of the lean body before it had the chance to take it to any other levels. They did not need any of that now. With a sharp turn, the chuunin took a step to take the chopsticks into the kitchen trash, seeing that they were pretty much beyond help after being used to substitute a drill, when a glint of white against the dark floor caught his attention.


The night was dark, and Kakashi gave a silent sight as he finally admitted to see more shadows than stains against the wooden floorboards. The light from the training room or the kitchen weren't any help anymore, either. They'd have to continue cleaning in the morning, then. The pale hands gave the last scrub on the wood and then tossed the used rag back into the now cool water in the bucket, and the jounin took them into bathroom where the bucket was emptied and the rag was rinsed under the faucets before put to dry stretched onto the bucket's rim. Then the pale man walked back to the terrace and took the filled tray with him, glancing at the heap of shards, unidentifiable mushes of food and the remants of mismatched bowls and cups, the shattered remains of his coffee mug laying on the top of the sad-looking pile, as if accusing the jounin of its unexpected and ungraceful demise.

In some sense, Kakashi found himself agreeing with the mug.

However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he entered the small kitchen, and the gray eye took in the cleanliness and order that had yet again taken its place in the little space. He must have spent quite a long time on the terrace for the younger man to have time to clean the whole kitchen area. Not to mention starting to do laundry, now that the sound of the washing machine was taken in by the keenly listening ears of the elite. The chuunins of their village were really the oil that kept their machine functioning like clockwork, the jounin found himself quietly agreeing with that claim.

Yet none of those things really mattered when he turned and was met with a view of one chuunin in particular squatting low on the floor, the nape of the dark-skinned neck visible and the broad shoulders hunched as the other nin was seemingly looking very closely at something in his hands that were hidden from view behind the lean back. Yet the copy-nin could distinguish the second the shinobi in question sensed his presence, as a very fine edge of tension took over the man's figure. With all things considered so far, Kakashi couldn't blame him for that. "Yo."

"Yo yourself," came the calmly spoken answer. Then, what sounded like a clearing breath was taken, and the chuunin rose back up to turn and greet the other more properly. "The training room should be alright now, and I did some cleaning here. How is the terrace?"

"Maa, it'll survive, I guess. We'll have to take a look tomorrow to see if I missed any spots," Kakashi said, deciding to let the other keep to himself what he had been doing when the jounin had found him, then turned on his heels and placed the tray on the counter. Then, the silver-haired man counted the second he felt they needed before he warmed up his voice to sound what he hoped to carry the contrast of light and laconic tones in it at the same time. "I do hope that these weren't the only dishes we had in this house, though. Otherwise we may need to offer Tsunade-sama sake straight from the bottle tomorrow when she comes to visit. Although I don't think she'd complain about that."

"She'd probably welcome it," Iruka's voice carried over the jounin's shoulder, with the faintest trail of amusement in it, as the chuunin stepped standing next to the older shinobi by the counter. "Now then," a tan finger pointed at the pile of paraphernalia resting on the tray between them, "is there anything that we can still use?"

As a silent answer to the question, a pale hand plucked out a single rice bowl, and Kakashi gingerly placed it on top of the pile. "This one. It has a tiny chip in the rim, but otherwise it should hold liquid and solid foods."

To his credit, the voice of the younger man was level and steady as he confirmed the absurdity of what he had just heard. "Only one bowl."

"I'm afraid so. This pottery wasn't clearly designed to last any warfare." The nod of the silver-haired head carried too much weight considering that the object of the discussion was only a one little ceramic bowl. Then, with the air that Iruka had until then only thought to be reserved for mourning relatives, the jounin picked up yet another shattered piece of china and put it between them two. "It also seems that I need a new coffee mug now."

"You certainly do," Iruka agreed with a rise of an eyebrow, yet he couldn't help the tug of a smile pulling at his lips when he lifted his eyes to regard the masked man next to him. "Yet you don't seem so sorry about my tea cup, which undoubtedly lies buried somewhere there in that pile."

"Well, you did manage to dip me in tea, if that's any consolation," came the smoothly spoken reply with a smirk stretching the dark fabric that was covering the jounin's face. Though the instant when a tan hand took a hold of his upper arm, all amusement that had managed to bud between the two was rudely removed from Kakashi's mind as it exploded into pale blue and sizzling electricity that struck through his body that had went completely rigid on the impact. When his senses cleared again, the first thing he noted was how hard his heart was pounding inside his sternum, his pulse hitting hundreds in seconds, and how he was firmly pressing against something that seemed to have a heartbeat matching the pace of his own. It took one beat for his consciousness to crash back into his mind, two beats to peel his masked mouth away from devouring another pair of gasping lips, and three to physically force himself a good few feet away from Iruka's body that had been squeezed between the jounin and the kitchen counter. Harsh pants filled the heavy silence between the two men who tried to catch their breaths and steady both their hearts and their shaking legs.

"Sh-shit..oh fuck..sorry, Kakashi," Iruka's voice was husky and breathless, and Kakashi mentally tried every form of lust control he could think of so as to not react to that voice while a crack of thunder echoed at the back of his mind. "I..it didn't..oh kami."

"It's..it's alright..I guess it happens now and then," Kakashi heard himself wheeze out as he pressed his hands against his shaking knees and held his face down, even though he wasn't so sure if he made any sense as his ears were still ringing. "..You...okay there..Iruka?"

"..Yeah..I think," Iruka panted and took a better hold on the counter behind his back, the tan knuckles turning white as he willed his suddenly spiked arousal away, the dark brown eyes blinking furiously in a desperate attempt to focus on anything that could him help regain his control over his traitorous body. "...I don't know what happened there. I swear I had no intention to touch you, but it just...shit."

"I suppose we're still not keeping enough distance," Kakashi considered, having finally calmed his body enough to make room for his mind to gain full control. He still kept on leaning against his hands on his knees, not trusting his body to move yet. "Didn't it give any warning?"

"Nothing whatsoever," answered the low groan that came from the younger man. A tan hand rose to cover the dark eyes that were closed in what seemed like visible agony. "My body just moved on its own accord. Why did that happen?" Then, the slanted eyes peered over the hand that was covering the flushed, scarred face. "You didn't sense anything?"

Kakashi gave a shake with his head, regretting that movement instantly when the room shifted sideways beyond his sense of balance. "No, I didn't." The heel of a pale hand pressed at the gray eye. "This is becoming a problem."

"Kakashi." That single word held edge to it sharp enough to make the jounin's instincts snap wide awake and the gray eye narrowed its focus in its dark counterparts that seemed to withhold a swirl of conflicts in them. If anything, the look in the dark eyes looking at him over the hand that looked clammy with cold sweat was downright haunted. "Move. Please," were the two barely spoken words, yet they struck the air like a whip made of more than just leather and made the jounin push his body on the move despite the discomfort in doing so.

The Sharingan user had barely stepped aside when the chuunin launched past him and took a sharp turn to the toilet. Before the first sounds of retching reached his ears, Kakashi took a deep breath and ducked his head in his hands with a silent curse leaving him, his mind already far away from his lanky figure standing dead still in the middle of the kitchen floor, it concentrating on the scene that had occurred in moments prior. What in the world had happened in those few seconds? Taking one slow step after another, the jounin followed the path the other had taken towards the small restroom, and as he reached the door that had been left wide open, the slouching jounin leaned around the corner to silently observe the heaving form of a man slumped on the floor, whose strong arms were almost hugging the toilet seat, whose dark eyes were squinted close as if the man in question was experiencing extreme pain, and whose scarred cheeks were flushed, making the sweaty face of the younger shinobi look feverish. The high ponytail was drooping, as if reflecting the state of its wearer, and in this case it might have indeed, in Kakashi's silent opinion. Quietly, though knowing that by now his presence had been detected, the ex-ANBU eased himself sitting on the floor by the door and leaned against its frame, letting his mismatched eyes rest their gaze on the opposite side of the doorframe, the sharp eyes taking in the color of the wood and the sharp shadows sculpting the shape of it. He didn't need to wait for long when a sharp exhale was given by the other, by a way of starting the careful explanation.

"...This is the third time this happens." Iruka's voice was hushed and raspy, but held itself steady. "..I was actually rather surprised that it had not happened until now."

"What do you mean by that?" Kakashi asked calmly while looking at nothing in particular, knowing that it rarely helped the ill to be stared at. He also knew that the academy instructor didn't need to look at him in the eye to know that the man had his full attention by now.

"Every time when something like, well, that," a shaking hand drew a floppy circle in the air by a way of describing things, "happens, I throw up after. It happened twice before, and now this." A miserable hiccup echoed from the porcelain bowl: "..I really hate this." Soon it was followed by a flush of the toilet and the steady flow of deep breaths taken by the dark-haired man as he rose up to wash his face and mouth over the toilet sink.

A nonsensical hum left the masked mouth at that. Kakashi had to admit, that was an interesting factor. After giving it some consideration, the gray eye narrowed. It seemed that the discussion they had not wanted to have before morning was becoming quite imperative. Perhaps it was for the best to face the hoard of unsolved riddles and uncomfortable truths now that both of them were still in more or less good health, as it had started to appear that it may very well not be the case come tomorrow should they disregard the mountain of facts staring down at them. "...I know that this isn't what either of us wants right now, but I have to ask you something. How well do you remember those last two times you mentioned?"

"...Not well." The hesitation wasn't difficult to discern in the other's voice, nor was the tension traveling from shoulder to shoulder as the dark-skinned nin dried off his face and then lifted his eyes to face the small mirror hanging on the wall. The dark eyes looked beyond tired and slightly puffy, the dark rings under them almost swallowing them up as they peered through their reflection at the jounin slouching against the wall. "...Never got around to ask you about them."

Well, Kakashi amended, he neither got around telling the other about them, so that made them even. Apparently it was time to put an end to that disastrous game. "...It wasn't a lie when I told that you had initiated both times." The jounin shifted his back a bit against the frame, searching a better position to lounge, as it seemed that he'd be spending a moment in that position. "The first happened after you had collapsed. I was taking care of you, well, the best I could, considering my lacking skills as a medic, when it seemed at some point that you had woken up." The gray eye gave a glance at the silent man who Kakashi observed to turn away from his reflection, and the jounin gave a humorless smile as he watched how the other spend a minute to find a better seating on the floor, the chuunin now leaning against the wall in a very same manner as the jounin did, except that the dark-haired head was ducked between the tan hands, the man obviously putting effort in listening to his superior over the sickness of his stomach. The sight did strengthen Kakashi's resolve to continue. "I gave you something to drink and..well." The masked man gave a pause in thought, after which a small sigh left him. "I'm not quite sure myself of what happened there. Before I knew it, it seems that our elements took control and you were...taking the matters into your own hands. It was over so quickly that for some time I had trouble getting what had happened."

"...I see. What exactly did I...do?" Never before had the sense of foreboding been so palpable in the chuunin's voice. It was, in some very odd sense, making Kakashi understand how it felt to be in the receiving end of a hunter-nin's blade after a very trying day for both participants.

On the other hand, as he felt the sliver of heat travel up his cheeks, Kakashi would have probably welcomed the match to death with open arms right then. "You, uh, physically persuaded me to give you a hand job." The silence that grabbed a hold of his ear closest to the quiet chuunin was full of noise coming from what were the whirring thoughts of the other man, and by the time the rough voice spoke out, the copy-nin was sure that whatever kind of response he had been armed against, the next words weren't it.

"...In other words, you're saying that – well. Alright. Did I do anything else?"

The gray eye turned slowly to meet the dark brown ones, and at the openly questioning look he saw in the other's eyes that were peering at him under the tan arms, Kakashi was quite sure to look as stupid as he felt at that very minute. "...You're taking this surprisingly well."

A tug of a feeble smile was seen on the full lips, and the dark-haired head gave a weak shake, the ponytail swinging from side to side. "...I kind of had an idea that something had happened between us once it came back to me on some level after I've woken up. To be honest, for a moment I feared it to be something far more...intimate." Then, the look in the chuunin's eyes turned more sober and the smile vanished from his face before it had even had a chance to bloom properly. "I do apologize for forcing myself on you, conscious or not. That was inappropriate of me."

"Maa, not quite as inappropriate as the second time, I think," Kakashi drawled, and drew some shallow satisfaction from the creeping blush that started from the tan neck and traveled up towards the mocha-skinned forehead. The pale hand rose to scratch the masked cheek, giving the man some moments to gather his next thoughts, because after successfully dodging the barrage of bullets, now they were entering the actual minefield in their conversations. "Although I do find myself somewhat guilty there, considering that I delivered a hit to your head before it all happened."

"...You did what?" As calm as the teacher's voice was, the tick of a dark, slender eyebrow had been said to drive even the fiercest ANBU up the hills. They both knew, though, that Hatake was a very different breed from the ANBU they now had loitering around on those days.

Even so, the elite jounin didn't scoff at those attempting to save themselves by all means necessary when standing face to face with severe danger. "It happened during the Twenty Cups. I don't know how it happened, but my aim went off and I accidentally gave a blow to your head with my element through the chopsticks. You went down like a sack, which, in a way, is to be expected, and for a moment I considered about summoning help, but then you started to stir and, well." As the memories of the past night flashed in his mind, the jounin stifled a curse and gave a warning glare to his body when a course of warmth traveled across his hips. "Things got out of hands rather quickly after that. Nothing incriminating happened, I think, but that wasn't for the lack of, uh, effort."

The dark eyes of the academy instructor kept their gaze on the silver-haired man before they were slowly turned away."..So I didn't see your face then, after all."

The unexpected reply was like a bucket of ice cubes dumped onto his lap, and the jounin couldn't help turn staring at the other man in a rather confused manner. "What...?"

Now it was Iruka's turn to rub the bridge of his scarred nose. "I..I had a vision that you, uhm, showed your face to me last night. It was a bit of a blur, though, before – uh." At that point, the blush was back with vengeance on Iruka's face, which could have counted as a fatal error considering who exactly was sitting with him in the room that had started to feel smaller and smaller the better he understood the nature of his slip. Oh hell.

If anything, the expression forming on the masked nuisance's face was morbidly curious. "A vision of...? Before what exactly?"

Iruka had a bad feeling that if they continued down that specific path of memories, he would get sick again, as his whole body erupted into both hot and cold shivers at once when his mind opened up that particular can of worms squirming in the dark recesses of his subconsciousness. "Never mind. A drunken dream." Though the way the gray eye gave him a hard and a long stare, Iruka cursed his too quick tongue, his too quick temper and his too quickly settling stomach that, of course, failed him now when he needed a distraction the most, no matter how unpleasant it was for him.

Catching the look of growing apprehension in the dark eyes that decided then to look at anything else but him, Kakashi turned his upper body to lean further into the personal bubble of his elusive target. "You know that this house isn't so big that I couldn't easily track you down to pester you later should you try to escape this question now."

Oh, how Iruka hated with passion that reasonable tone the bastard every now and then decided to give him, as if he was talking to a five-year-old who spoke like he knew better than him how the world worked – and taken into consideration what kind of child genius the unnerving man had undoubtedly been, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out that in fact he did, the little shit. Why on earth did he keep on going to the shrines to ask for what was appearing to be rather shitty luck in his miserable life, Iruka could only guess. A hard look was given to the jounin by the dark eyes as the chuunin went through his options. "You're not letting this one go, are you."

The look in the gray eye was unrelenting, like the gaze of a hound that had caught the scent of a bone and wasn't about to brush off the thrill of the hunt at any cost. "Considering that I just willingly admitted to have stuck my hand into your pants a couple of nights prior and risked my very neck by doing so, then you could say that no, I'm not."

The man did have a point, albeit a very uncomfortable one. Drawing a steadying breath that failed miserably in settling his surfacing nerves, Iruka turned his eyes away from the older man and focused them to glare at the toilet seat in turn. "I...dreamed that we...how should I put it. We had a rather, ah, steamy session on the terrace." A tan hand rose to smooth over the dark hair before finding solace by the base of the droopy ponytail, and the dark, slanted eyes kept on looking anywhere but the jounin sitting by the door a few feet away. "You topped. In case you were wondering."

Well. That explained a few things in Kakashi's mind that had suddenly screeched to a shocked halt due to the heard revelation. On the other hand, it raised a whole storm of questions as well. "...Maa. I suppose you managed to find out on your own this morning that that didn't happen." Despite the effort put on coolness, there was the faint trace of a question in his voice.

Iruka gave a small nod at that, yet he couldn't deny the wave of relief soothing his being when he actually heard the other confirm his earlier observations. As big as the mess was that they had managed to make for themselves, at least his mission partner didn't treat him like the inept idiot that he currently certainly viewed himself to be. "I did. I also had a suspicion that I missed a few crucial parts here and there, once I had time to think about it." Then the ANBU and all this happened, was left unsaid, but not unheard.

As it was, they both fell silent, letting the time tick by as both nins centered their minds on the problems, answers and more importantly the many questions that had followed after Iruka's pinch in the bathroom, it all boiling down to the past couple of hours when the wildly warping vortex of their games had both reached and then spectacularly stumbled over its event horizon. The tan hands rubbed over the scarred face, as the pale-skinned shoulders rolled against the wooden surface they were leaning against, the shuffling of clothes and huffs of breaths filling in the role that the spoken words couldn't. Neither of them dared to consider what would happen when the wall of elephants would eventually get torn down, but there was one thing they could silently agree on: it was going to be a long night for them both.

"...I could check if there were any cups for us. I can make you some tea," Kakashi found himself tentatively offering, and gave his masked nose a passing rub, as if chasing after a sudden itch. "Though I'm not sure how wise it is for you to drink anything made by me considering how the things are right now...I suppose," came the following mumble, and the pale hand ruffled through the silver mane in a manner that belied of the jounin feeling just a little bit self-conscious under the look he was given by the other man.

After a beat, the dark eyes seemed to catch onto something warmer than the cold sense of reality they had been forced to face during the previous minutes. "...If I made you coffee, then theoretically we'd both be facing the same problem." The rise of the dark eyebrow spoke of amusement that had become a rare occurrence between the men. "Care to put that theory to the test?"

The masked mouth smirked with a warmer undertone than it had in a long time. "For getting coffee made by you? Always."


They stood silent in the kitchen, both the tan and the pale arms crossed over clothed chests, their looks assessing and their expressions matching the surreal seriousness of their situation. Before them, on the cleared counter, stood two steaming cups, one with stripes of the pale sage, it displaying the darkest reds and browns of a patiently brewed pu'erh, and a monochromatic graphite gray one that emitted the lingering aroma of a strong, dark roast that swirled into the air of the kitchen; them both enticing in their promise to the one smelling them, beckoning to lean closer for a good whiff and a taste. When that was taken into consideration, the amount of respective caution that rolled off the men in waves was perhaps rather silly, but no-one except them was there to comment on it. Slowly, a tan hand hovered over the small cup, the long, calloused fingers tapping the rim before sliding down the side and circling back up, the owner of the said fingers sensing the intense look he was given by the man standing beside him.

"Detecting anything there?" Asked the lazy yet interested drawl to Iruka's right.

A shake of the ponytailed head was the answer to that. "Nothing but the scent, but that's only expected. No tingle, no buzz. Just tea growing cold in a cup." The dark, narrow eyes shifted to look at the other small cup curiously. "How about you?"

Like it were a test in the jounin exams, the pale man gingerly took the cup in his hand, then held it in both hands and took a deep breath, which would have otherwise made the scene look like something taken straight from the booklets promoting their meditation exercises, except for the narrow gray eye that was looking anything but relaxed. "Nope. Just smelling coffee."

Well, then. "Should we..give it a go?" The dark brown eyes sought out their counterpart that answered their look over the dark mask. The silence counted the seconds they took before two sets of shoulders shrugged, the two cups were lifted as a brief toast and then taken to the respective lips, and the nightly air gave some privacy to the men testing their drinks.

A hush of silence, then, "Anything?"

"No, nothing. You?"

"Nothing, except enjoying the taste," Kakashi drawled and took yet another sip, this time with less anticipation for worse or better outcome. "Would have been a waste to miss out on this for the rest of the mission."

Iruka couldn't help but let out a pleased chuckle at the quite direct compliment. "I can agree with you there." His hands held the cup in both palms, and the chuunin was glad to note that the warmth of the china was slowly seeping into his tense muscles. However, that also meant that the events of the day were finally catching up with his diminishing energy levels, and soon enough one mocha-skinned hand rose to cover a yawn stretching the strong jaws.

"It's quite late, isn't it," Kakashi commented idly over his cup to no-one in particular while he casually calculated that the small dose of caffeine in his cup was very unlikely to prevent him from nodding off like a light once he hit the bed.

Iruka gave a small nod at the jounin's words and tipped over his cup. "I think it's time to go to bed," he agreed on his behalf and put the cup down on the counter before glancing at the jounin next to him.

While keeping his focus on the taste of the rich flavours on his tongue rather than the attention he was being given by the other, the ex-ANBU savoured the last sip of his coffee before rinsing it shortly and placing on the counter as well. Yet nobody could say that Kakashi had become the elite for just being in a right place at the wrong time. "I think I'm hearing a 'but' coming along those lines."

Having worked with the man as long as he had, Iruka wasn't really surprised to see that coming. However, that didn't help to keep himself from rubbing his nose, thus signaling the other how well he had been caught. Not that the reluctance to look the other in the eye wasn't already a dead giveaway. "Well, uh, I was thinking that perhaps it would be the best if we didn't share the bedroom tonight." The dark eyes, almost black in the dim light, turned to assess the reaction of the gray eye that was patiently observing them back. "I'll move my futon into the training room, if that's alright with you."

Even being the genius that he was claimed to be, Kakashi didn't find any reason to object the proposition. The tan nin had a rather good point there, actually, for they could both sleep for what was left of the long night in relative peace of mind without fearing for anything happening between their unconscious bodies. They were hip-deep in the mess already, so it was only natural that their deeply ingrained senses of survival were constantly searching for ways to make things less unhealthy for them. "I can help you carry it." The quirk of a grateful smile on the full lips was unnecessary, really, but he appreciated the sentiment it carried.

Together they went to the bedroom, both noticing how the sight of the rumpled sheets, messily discarded clothes and twisted duvets made the air tense between them for the barest of seconds before it vanished when they set their minds only on taking the teacher's belongings through the doors to the bigger room; setting the pillow over the folded duvet before taking a hold on the heavy futon, one pair of hands on each end, and carrying it carefully over the scattered pile of travel-sized books, a discarded black notebook, opened standard-issue mission bags, dirty sheets and the common paraphernalia of two single shinobis sharing a household for a short time period. Once in the training room, both pairs of eyes looked around for a comfortable spot before silently agreeing over a place quite near the bedroom doors, their trained instincts making them aware that as the things were, keeping the other relatively in sight was the best course of action for them at the time being.

The linen were smoothed out once the bed was put down, followed by the pillow and the blanket, the jounin discreetly leaving the chuunin fuss over his bed as he went to perform his evening routines. After a short moment, the awaiting chuunin took his turn in the vacant restroom, giving the jounin privacy for changing into his sleeping gear before spending an awkward moment by standing over his bed that had taken the brunt of the sudden turn of events. If one could say even that. A huff left the hidden lips and a hand rose to rub the pale-skinned temple; it was getting really late if Kakashi was starting to debate with himself over the right phrasing of things.

"Is everything alright, Kakashi?" The softly spoken question made the mismatched eyes snap their attention back to present, and the silver-haired head turned towards the spoken man who stood by the bedroom door; his dark clothes changed and the tan face washed, the dark hair at last let down from the high ponytail. For all the copy-nin could see, the chuunin appeared seemingly ready to hit the bed that was currently located on the other side of the masked elite.

Despite the sight of the other male making him rather conscious about the fact that now was not the time to point out how the shadows falling over the tan face were making justice to the man's high cheekbones, Kakashi gave a small, reassuring nod; to whom in particular, he couldn't say. "Yeah. Just tired." As it was, the gray eye followed the younger man as the chuunin strolled around him, keeping at a safe distance, and made his way to the training room's doorway, the dark hair swaying over the broad shoulders as he walked. That itself wasn't the reason why the ex-ANBU opened his mouth, but the uneasy feeling that traveled up his spine, it telling him that the threshold over which the other man was stepping may become a barrier of something more complex in its nature if he let the other pass it without notice. "...Are you alright?"

The chuunin paused in mid-step, the lean legs shifting their weight as the tan body stopped its going and the dark-haired head turned to let the narrow eyes cast a look over one bronze-skinned shoulder. At first, the sharply looking eyes seemed like they were searching for something that the jounin didn't want to contemplate at that moment, but after a blink, a small, disarming smile splayed on the full lips. "I think so." Without further affirmations coming, the man turned away and was swallowed by the darkness of the other room, leaving the jounin stand alone in the dim light that cast his long shadow up at the walls around him. "Have a good night, Kakashi," was said by the smooth baritone.

The smile on the hidden lips was genuine, yet the cause of it made him swallow. "You as well, Iruka."

As the village of Konohagakure drifted into sleep like many other hidden villages before it had in the times of tentative peace, so did the small, unassuming, light-gray house fall silent, the barriers around it humming in the background as the blue-tinted darkness slithered over and around the silent corners and the corridor, reclaiming its territory from the already retreated light of the day, it paying no heed to the two men, a chuunin and a jounin of their respective ranks, who laid in their beds, their eyes wide open but unseeing, nothing but the sounds of their steady breaths being heard by the wall of silent elephants that were standing guard around them.