Chapter 18: The Wait
In which Yuna and Ayame cope in Konoha.
"Did you hear something?" Ayame asked, looking sharply to the western sky. A storm was brewing on the horizon. Even now, she could see flashes of lighting, and a few seconds later, a deep rumble of thunder rolled over the village. "I thought I heard a crash, but it didn't sound like thunder."
"No…" Yuna replied, although she had glanced up to the sky the same moment as Ayame. She wasn't sure what made her look up, but she now had an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach. "I have a bad feeling though."
The girls heard shuffling behind them, and they both turned to find Kame-sama peering out over the balcony. The older woman had traveled to Konoha when she heard that a team was going after her granddaughter, and she was staying in Hana's apartment. While they waited, she, Ayame, and Yuna were tidying and cleaning the apartment so that it would be fresh and welcoming when Hana came home. They had just been repotting plants on the balcony when a strong malaise hit both girls at once.
"I don't like the look of that storm," Kame said.
"So, you feel it, too?" Yuna asked.
Kame did not respond, but instead narrowed her eyes at the storm clouds moving towards them. "We're past the spring rainy season, and the monsoons don't start until late summer. You girls should get home before this one hits. It looks like it's going to be nasty."
"But there's still so much work to do," Yuna said, looking at the balcony around them. "We should at least pull all the plants indoors."
In Hana's absence, nearly all of her plants had fared poorly. The girls were pruning and repotting many of them, while determining which ones to let go or replace entirely. The balcony was covered in potting soil.
"I'll stay and move them in," Ayame told her. "You should go. You live further away than I do."
"Are you sure?" Yuna asked.
"Go," Kame said emphatically. "We'll just clean up this dirt and Ayame-chan will be on her way. There will still be plenty to do tomorrow."
Yuna gave them both hugs and hurried out the door while Kame swept the balcony and Ayame began taking in the plants one-by-one. But by the time Yuna reached the street, a cold wind had picked up and the sky had begun to darken. She turned towards home.
A few minutes later, raindrops started falling, but the rain did not stay gentle for long. Very soon, it began to downpour. Yuna started to run as puddles formed in the streets, becoming rivulets. Her sandals splashed water and mud up her legs as she went, but it didn't matter…she was soaked through in minutes.
People on the street had already taken cover and many shops closed their doors, otherwise Yuna would have sheltered in one of the stores she ran by. The rain was surprisingly cold for late May. Yuna could see her breath as she exhaled with each step. That was very unusual for this time of year. The cold, the rain, and the sudden darkness made everything feel so much more menacing, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach churned uncomfortably.
Yuna finally reached the weapon's shop, but she slowed as she arrived. The shop sign said, 'Closed', and the lights upstairs were dark. No smoke was rising from the forge. It was all as empty as the streets. Compared to being with Ayame and Kame-sama, this place felt cold and foreign.
But this place was her home. She didn't know why this emptiness struck her now. She'd been feeling better since Genma helped her make the new swords, better since knowing a competent team had gone after Hana. Perhaps the weather was having an effect on her…or maybe she was still coping with all the recent events.
But still…
Something about the empty building in front of her contrasted with how she normally saw the forge. In childhood, especially when her mother was still alive, the shop had always been lively. Her father was nearly always in the forge experimenting with something new or making a custom weapon, and there were always apprentices milling about, either assisting him or selling and maintaining weapons. Upstairs, her mother kept a clean and tidy home. It had always smelled of citrus and cinnamon.
Citrus and cinnamon…
Yuna let out a breath, a puff of vapor rising from her exhale. This memory tugged at her fiercely. It had been years since she'd thought about what her mother smelled like.
She unlocked the door to the shop slowly and in a daze. Inside felt nearly as cold as outside, and the emptiness echoed the absence she felt in her heart. Now, she recognized what the feeling was: Loss. Her mother, the forge, Hana. Raido and Genma were both gone, too. And now she was stuck with a terrible feeling that something bad had happened to them.
The strange feeling in the pit of her stomach shifted towards nausea, and a sudden worry about all of them - Raido, Genma, and Hana - made her start to shake. They'd had no news, so of course she had to keep faith, but she felt as if she were surrounded by ghosts and memories, haunted by a past that felt more alive than her present.
"Get a grip, Yuna," she whispered to herself, and she forced herself to move. She walked through the shop and upstairs towards the bathroom. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she stripped her wet clothing off and turned on the faucet to the shower until the water was hot and steam billowed in the bathroom.
Yuna stepped into the stream and felt both an overwhelming sense of sadness and relief. The hot water cleared her mind. She stayed under the water until she stopped shaking, and then even longer until the hot water ran out.
What has come over me? she wondered as she dried off. Was it the storm? A sense of foreboding? Or perhaps she was simply feeling alone again.
Yuna put on a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt - one she'd borrowed from Genma - and then she stood in the living room, watching the rain pour onto the roof through the sliding glass doors that led to the rooftop deck.
She wrapped her arms around herself, smelling Genma's musky scent and feeling glad she hadn't bothered to wash his shirt for him.
Have faith. They'll come home.
The rain outside turned to a wet, cold sleet, and she shook her head, awed by the strange weather event.
Resolved to put herself in a better mood, she flipped on all the lights in the living room and kitchen. Then, she opened the refrigerator and rummaged around to find a couple of yuzu. They were old and wrinkled on the outside, but when she sliced them, the flesh on the inside was still fresh. She put the slices in a pot of water and threw in a couple sticks of cinnamon along with a sprig of rosemary, and then she placed it on the stove to boil.
Soon, the whole house filled with a fragrant and fresh smell, and it drove away some of Yuna's sadness. In its place, she was left with a sweet nostalgia while she inhaled the scents of citrus and cinnamon, remembering the ways her mother brought out softness and kindness in others.
She stood at the stove for a long time, breathing in the potpourri her mother used to make, trying to ignore the swirling in her stomach, and listening to the rain on the rooftop.
"Sayuri?"
The voice behind her made her jump, and she whirled around, only to find her father standing at the top of the stairs.
"Dad, you scared me!" she said, putting a hand over her racing heart.
But her father didn't answer her. His face was white, and his hand gripped the railing at the top of the stairs.
"Are you okay?" she asked after a moment. Truth be told, he was the last person she wanted to interact with, but the way he looked almost scared her. He'd also called her Sayuri…her mother's name.
"I thought maybe I'd seen a ghost," he said. His voice was hollow. "She used to wear my clothing when she was pregnant with you. They were the only clothes that fit."
Yuna became self-conscious and tugged at the hem of her shirt. "I stole these from Genma…" she muttered. She shook her head. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"I saw the lights on and knew you would be here. When I walked in and smelled…" he trailed off, looking forlorn. "Well…it hasn't smelled like that in here for a long time."
"You always did hate the combination of yuzu and cinnamon…" Yuna mumbled.
He shook his head. "No. I just didn't like smelling it after she died."
"You didn't like any reminders of mom after she died," Yuna said. As an afterthought, she added, "Least of all me."
Her father walked to the window and stared out at the rain. He didn't deny her statement, and it felt like a twist to the heart.
"Why-" she began to ask, but her father started speaking.
"I tried so hard to protect her," he said, still sounding like he was in a daze. "After her death, anything that had to do with her was a reminder of my failure. I couldn't protect Raido's mother, and I couldn't protect Sayuri either. How could I be a father when I robbed you both of your mothers?"
Yuna opened her mouth and closed it again. Her father was never sentimental, never emotional, never let anyone into the depths of his heart. She didn't know how to respond to him.
"But worse," he continued, his voice growing bitter, "I robbed you both of a father as well."
Yuna was stunned. Was her father actually admitting to being absent during her childhood?
"Why are you here?" she asked again, wondering what the hell he was getting at. As much as his demeanor was asking for her sympathy, she found it difficult to move past her deep-seated resentment. So what if he admitted to being a less-than father? It didn't change the fact that she'd essentially grown up without one.
"I wanted to talk to you," he said, turning towards her. "I'd like to offer you the shop. That's…if you still want it."
Again, Yuna was rendered speechless. After a long moment, she found her voice and asked, "What changed your mind?"
"Your audacity." He shrugged. "And the fact that Shigeo-kun is a terrible apprentice."
"Of course…" she muttered.
"You've surpassed me," he continued more seriously. "I can't deny that. And you defied all of my expectations because I was blind to see your talent, your drive, and your passion. You did something I thought was impossible."
"It was only impossible because you didn't believe in me."
Her father thought about that for a long while. Finally, he sighed, nodding in resigned agreement. "And what made it possible?"
Yuna smiled wistfully. "Raido. And Genma. And Hana. I couldn't have done it without any of them. Raido, for believing in me the way you never did. Genma, for listening to me, helping me, and lending his chakra, and Hana because…" she faltered, "...she gave me no other option but to try."
Ryosuke nodded, crossing his arms and appraising her. "Why do we make weapons?" he asked.
Yuna looked away, nearly laughing at this silly question. The answer was simple, ingrained in her since childhood. "To protect those we love." It was the Namiashi code, spoken by her grandfather's grandfather, since before Konoha was founded. Weapons were not meant to maim or kill, but to offer protection.
Her father reached to his side and pulled out a small knife. He set it on the counter beside her. Yuna looked at it, then at him, and when he nodded, she picked it up. It was Namiashi steel, lightweight and small, but beautifully crafted. She'd seen her father use this knife before. It always hung at his hip.
"I made that for your mother as a wedding gift," he said. "It didn't protect her."
Yuna stared at the knife. "You've kept it all these years…even though you don't like reminders of her?" She was confused now.
"It's a reminder that I loved her," he said gruffly, "just as your blades are a reminder of your care for your friends and your brother."
Yuna blinked, trying to comprehend what her father was saying. It felt deceptively cryptic. "So…" she began, "if the weapons we make can't protect those we love, why do we make them?"
He let out a deep breath. "We make them to show our love," he replied.
She watched him carefully. "And when did you come to that conclusion?"
His eyes met hers. "When you named your new blades after Genma."
She blushed.
"He's a good man, Yuna."
Better than you, she thought, but she did not voice this statement aloud. Instead, in a shaky voice, she asked, "Do you think they'll come home? What if my weapons can't protect them?"
"I wonder the same thing every time your brother goes on a mission with Kokuto." Her father's tone was disconcertingly soft. "But they'll come home."
"How do you know?"
"Because you've given them the best possible tools for their mission, along with a reason to come home. That's a powerful combination."
Yuna looked away, her cheeks growing hot at her father's unexpected praise.
Her father cleared his throat, ready to end the sentimentality. "Anyway, the shop is yours. Treat it better than I did and maintain the Namiashi reputation."
Yuna stared at him. "You're really serious."
He nodded and started walking towards the door.
"Wait dad, you forgot your knife."
"That's yours now, too."
She stared at him blankly.
"Remember what it is."
"A reminder that you loved mom?" she asked, confused.
"A reminder of my love," he corrected, and then he was gone.
Yuna was left alone again, stunned at the conversation that had just taken place. She looked from where her father had just been to the stormy weather outside, then to the knife on the counter. She shook her head. "Just wait until you hear about this, Raido. Dad has finally gone crazy."
She picked up the knife, flipping it open and closing it absentmindedly as the rain continued to fall. The smell of citrus and cinnamon continued to waft around the home, creating an oasis of hope and light in the middle of the storm that surrounded Yuna. It was enough to quell the feeling deep inside of her. She still felt that something had gone terribly wrong on the mission, but it was paired with a new feeling…a feeling that everything would also be okay.
"It doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon. I should probably try to get home before it gets any worse…Otou-san will be worried."
Ayame and Kame-sama had finished up the final touches in Hana's apartment, but the rain had not stopped and it was growing dark.
"Are you sure, dear? You're welcome to stay here with me tonight."
Ayame shook her head. "Not with the way Otou-san worries. It's not a long walk home, and I should go before the lightning and thunder start up again."
Ayame bid goodbye to her friend's grandmother and left the apartment, taking a deep breath as she stared out the front doors of the building into the rain. She'd be soaked, but she could take a long, hot shower when she got home. That at least, she could look forward to. Maybe it would also do something about the discomfort and anxiety she felt deep within her.
But just as she was about to step outside, a figure appeared out of the heavy mist and rain. She shrunk back, initially scared, but then she recognized who it was.
"Iruka!" she exclaimed. She wasn't expecting anyone to be out in this weather, but he was carrying an oversized, black umbrella. "What are you doing here?"
He looked bashful. "The storm came on quickly, and I knew you were here helping Hana's grandmother. I just thought I'd check on you to see if you needed help getting home."
It took her a moment to process that he'd come for her, but then she smiled brightly and took his arm in hers. "You're a lifesaver," she said. "I was planning on getting soaked while running home."
He chuckled. "I thought you hated running."
She glanced up as they started their walk. "I do it when absolutely necessary."
"So…how's the apartment?"
Ayame sighed. "Empty without Hana, but we've given it a good clean and organized her things, so it's ready for her return. Kame-sama will stay indefinitely."
"You're good friends," Iruka told her. "I'm sure Hana will be thankful to come back to a clean apartment."
"You…you do think they'll bring her home, right? I'm just…worried that something may have happened. Yuna feels it, too."
Iruka glanced down at her, seeing the worry on her face. "It's probably just the weather. This rain is unusual for this time of year, and it does make everything feel more ominous."
"Maybe…" she replied, but she didn't sound convinced.
They walked in silence, Ayame holding close to Iruka as he protected her from the downpour. He remained quietly in thought.
He paused on a street corner. "Staying in the village when your friends and loved ones are out on missions is a hard thing," he said. "You feel helpless, and the worst part is not knowing when or if they'll come home, or what state they'll be in. I don't know if I've found great ways to cope with that feeling myself, but I do trust in the foundations Konoha has given us.
"What you're doing, the preparation for her return, is the best thing you can be doing. We need to expect they'll come home, because if we don't, it means we've lost faith, not just in our friends, but in Konoha."
Ayame's big eyes turned up to him, and he saw them glimmering with tears, but instead of crying she gave him a big smile.
"Thank you, Iruka. You always know just what to say to make me feel hopeful again."
They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps being drowned out by the rain.
"This sure is some rainstorm though, huh?" she asked, peering up at the sky. She noticed for the first time that she could see her breath creating clouds as she exhaled, and she shivered. The evening was growing oddly cold.
Not a minute later, they turned down another block, but a giant gust of wind picked up off the street and the cold rain pelted them unforgivably. Iruka's sturdy umbrella turned inside out, and although he tried to shield Ayame as best he could from the cold, she screamed as ice pelted her. The rain had turned to sleet.
Iruka made a split decision. "C'mon!" he said, grabbing her hand and beginning to run. They were only a block or two from his apartment, much closer than Ayame's house.
He bounded up two flights of stairs and along a concrete balcony towards his apartment. The sleet never let up and continued crashing against them until he wrestled the door open, let her in, and slammed it shut behind him. Once inside, they could still hear the sound of the howling wind outside, punctuated by their panting breath and dripping clothes.
They made a tenuous eye contact, and then slowly, they both began to laugh.
"I thought for sure I'd be able to get you home," he said, scratching the side of his face with a finger.
"It's okay," she laughed, looking around and rubbing some warmth into her hands. "Is this your apartment?"
"Yes," he said. "It's not much, but it's all I need."
The front door opened to a modest kitchen, where water from their wet clothes dripped onto a linoleum floor. The apartment was a studio, and the kitchen opened to a sparse room with a dresser, a TV, and a bed covered with a plain blue comforter. He had a small kitchen table, but it was littered with homework he'd been in the middle of grading.
"Are these your students' final exams?" Ayame asked, peering over the table.
"The written part," Iruka said. He went to the dresser and pulled out a couple sets of clothes. "They're supposed to do the practical part this coming week."
"And then you'll have a break, won't you?" she asked.
Iruka watched her curiously. Her words held disappointment, and then he realized why. Sablefish. Before Hana's disappearance, they'd talked about traveling to the coast together, but all talk of a vacation vanished with Hana. They couldn't very well leave the village while the search for her was ongoing, and Iruka's vacation window was short given his duties as a teacher.
"I will." He changed the subject, offering her a shirt, a pair of long pants, and a towel. "Here. These will be big, but they'll be warm. We can hang your wet clothes to dry while we wait out the storm."
Ayame thanked him and went to the bathroom to change. It, like the rest of his apartment, was modest…a toothbrush, a razor, and a bar of soap. She smiled. It was the exact opposite of her bathroom at home, which was littered with beauty products. She stripped off her clothing and toweled dry before slipping on the shirt and pants he'd given her. They smelled fresh and clean, like fabric softener. She finished drying her hair with the towel and stepped out of the bathroom to find Iruka already changed and putting a pot of tea on the stove to boil.
Ayame walked around his room, distracting herself by examining his things. She saw two picture frames on his dresser. One was Iruka with Naruto, both giving goofy grins to the camera, and the other was a picture of a young Iruka with his parents. She picked the second one up.
"Ayame, what kind of tea do you like?" he asked.
She wandered slowly to the kitchen, the picture still in her hands. "You look like your mother," she said softly. "She's very pretty."
Iruka glanced up and saw what she was looking at. "Yes, she was."
"Do you have any other family photos?" she asked.
"No. Our home got destroyed during the nine-tails attack. That's the only one that was untouched. I have their ninja registration photos, but that's it."
"Oh," she said softly. She sat down at his table, pushing aside some of the piles of homework and gazing at the photograph. "I'm glad you have this one."
Iruka set a mug of tea in front of her. "I am, too," he said simply. "I hope lavender is okay? It's a lavender sencha."
The fragrant scent drifted through the apartment. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a flowery tea person," she teased.
He blushed. "Lavender is calming to me. Especially after dealing with students all day…"
Ayame got a quick mental picture of a tired and frustrated Iruka coming home each day and making a mug of this tea before grading papers. She giggled, finding it endearing that something as simple as tea could reign in his temper. "I can imagine," she said.
She sipped her tea, realizing that the lavender did calm her, more than she anticipated. The warmth pulled at the anxiety within her, unraveling it and making her feel a little better. She raised her eyes to meet Iruka's, about to say something about warm tea on a cold night, but the words died on her lips.
Iruka was watching her, and she became captivated by his eyes. They were brown, just like hers. Nothing special, really. But she couldn't look away from them. His eyes held something so tender, so affectionate, so sincere, as if they were trying to tell her some deep and profound truth about the world and about herself. She wanted so dearly to learn what it was, this truth, so she just met his eyes and stared right back.
Ayame had always hated long silences…through the years she'd become quite adept at filling them. But this one was silence without silence, and as moments passed, she found she really didn't mind the quiet. They did not speak, not for a long time, but they sat staring into each other's eyes while the mugs warmed their cold hands. In those moments she thought she could understand exactly what Iruka was trying to say, even if he wasn't saying anything at all.
"Iruka…" she breathed, relaxing the fingers that held her mug.
He reached across the table and pulled her warm hand into his. He swallowed. "Do you want to know what else is calming to me?" he asked nervously.
"What?" she asked, finding herself entranced and unable to take her eyes away from him.
"You are."
It was this admission that made her break eye contact. She blushed as she laughed and looked downward, but when she lifted her eyes again, that same, sincere, affectionate, and tender look was imploring her to take him seriously. Her smile faltered.
"Ayame," he began, his voice a subtle whisper, "can I…kiss you?"
She gulped, thinking it was cute that he even asked. She looked from his eyes to his lips. He had nice lips, she thought suddenly. His lower lip in particular was full and soft, and she wondered what it would feel like, touching her own. "Yes," she breathed.
She watched him hesitate ever so briefly, but her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited for him to make a move. Just go for it, Iruka, she prompted silently, and then he did. He leaned forward in his chair, and he kissed her.
And she kissed him back.
And somehow, the tender, sincere affection that he'd just shown her with his eyes translated to the way he kissed her with his mouth. It was as if he could say things with his body that he could never say with his words, and Ayame knew that making love to him would feel just as sweet to her soul, the same way his eyes and his lips were making her feel now. She did not even blush at the thought, because this moment felt so innocent and pure and perfect.
His mouth was hot from the tea, and she tasted the sweetness of the lavender on his lips. It was the most pleasant and perfect kiss she'd ever experienced, sitting in a meager kitchen with yellow linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting. She had to wonder about that. It was as if the mundane world around them transformed into something spectacular, and it all happened through the way that he touched her.
Much too soon, he broke away, still holding her head close to his. He looked shocked at his own actions.
"Iruka…are you alright?" she asked.
"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," he said.
"How long?"
He hesitated. "Six years."
That brought her squarely back to reality. She pulled back, confusion in her eyes. "Six years?" she asked. "You've liked me for six years? You never said anything." In her mind, his attraction to her had been a very recent phenomenon.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Well…"
"But…but you said…you said there was another woman in your Tsukuyomi. So how could you like me for that long, unless…" she trailed off, meeting his eyes again with wonder as she realized exactly what Iruka's tender, sincere affection meant. In that look, in that kiss, he'd poured years of hidden, secret attraction, of longing and pining and maintaining it all under the guise of just their most regular Ichiraku patron.
"It was you," he admitted. "It was always you."
She was stunned. "For six years?"
He nodded. "Six years."
"But…" she faltered. "How? Why?" She was just Ayame. The ramen girl. How could someone, especially a shinobi, find her to be so desirable? There were so many women in the village more worthy than she. Compared to them, Ayame was a nobody…a civilian who cooked food day by day in a small, albeit well loved, food stall.
"Why?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts. "That's easy. It was your kindness first. The compassion and care you always show for even the least of those that you meet. But then it was your protectiveness and your loyalty. Most wouldn't assume it of you, but you're fierce, Ayame. You contain a combination of grace and strength that I've found to be rare in people."
She blushed at his words.
"As for how?" he said, sitting back in his chair. "That's a little harder. It started by watching you with Naruto. I liked the way you cared for him. I began to notice you more and more, and then gradually…you just continued to prove to me that you're a beautiful human being, both inside and out."
"So…it wasn't the ramen?" she asked meekly.
He laughed. "No, it wasn't the ramen. But the ramen is certainly a perk."
Ayame watched him, ruminating over all the ways she'd been blind to his admiration for six years. She could see it all in hindsight. The painful silence when she'd talked about Kakashi, and then a few years back, the way he'd grown uncomfortable when she had a summer fling with another civilian boy, a contractor from the Land of Waves. How Iruka grew quiet and reserved when she openly flirted with other shinobi who came through the restaurant. And yet he remained an Ichiraku staple, week after week.
"I'm sorry, Iruka."
He frowned. "Sorry for what?"
"For not noticing."
He smiled, relieved that this was all. "It's okay. I'm easy to overlook."
Ayame shook her head vehemently. "No, no, it's not okay. I've known you for a long time. And you've proven to me time and time again that you are respectful, caring, kind, and considerate. You are exactly the type of man I should have been looking for all these years, instead of chasing after fantasies. It has just taken me a long time to realize that."
Iruka looked down, bashful, but the corners of his lips turned up in the cutest of smiles. "Sometimes the best things take time," he said.
"I wish it hadn't," she said, squeezing his hand in hers.
"So, you're not upset at me?" he asked.
"Why would I be upset?"
"For dreaming about you…for so long."
Oh, Iruka, she thought. "No…I'm just glad I finally know."
They both fell silent.
Iruka cleared his throat. "You know, I really had hoped to take you on a proper date before kissing you. I know this-" he gestured to the kitchen around them, "-isn't exactly the most romantic environment."
"It doesn't matter," she said, feeling with all her heart that this was true. "Besides, the greater circumstances we're under aren't really conducive to romance…"
"Yes," he said, looking guilty. "I'm sorry about that, too. With the way things are, I should have waited until-"
"Stop," she said quietly. "Now was the perfect time."
Although her feelings about Hana's absence still ate at her, this moment with Iruka felt precious, like something she had the power to protect and cultivate while everything else was spiraling out of her control.
"And…Iruka?" she asked, her cheeks starting to warm.
"Yes, Ayame?"
"You can, umm…you can kiss me anytime."
"Oh really?" He asked, mildly surprised. He grinned. "So…like…right now?"
She nearly laughed. It felt as if they were both awkward teenagers, figuring out for the first time how to express their attraction. It was cute, and it made her heart skip a beat. "Especially right now," she said.
He did not hesitate again but just brought his lips to hers. If the way he'd asked to kiss her felt childlike, the kiss was anything but. His hand curled into her hair, caressing the back of her neck, while his warm and plump lips put just enough pressure against hers to make her feel safe and secure.
"You have nice lips," she told him the next time they broke apart. This made him laugh again. She found she enjoyed this, his smile so close to her face, and the heat radiating off of his skin.
He continued watching her, his laughter turning into a more serious look.
"When Hana comes home, I promise I'll take you on a proper date, and we can both enjoy it without distraction."
She smiled sadly. "You sound so confident they'll be back."
"And you're not?" he asked, surprised.
"It just gets harder and harder as each day passes."
He nodded, reaching his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. "I know. But I am confident. Enough for the both of us."
She held onto him more tightly, feeling comforted by his strong arms.
"Thank you, Iruka."
"Always," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
They sat, just holding one another for a while.
"Hey, listen," he told her a minute later. "It sounds like the rain has stopped. I should get you home. We shouldn't keep your father waiting."
Indeed, the howling wind had fallen silent, and they could no longer hear the pouring of the rain.
She nodded, knowing he was right, even though she didn't want to leave.
They collected her things and made a short but wet walk to the Ichiraku home. When they finally arrived, they both hesitated in the doorway, but before Ayame could say anything, the door opened.
"There you are!" Teuchi said. "I was getting worried about you with this weather. Thought I might come to get you from Hana's." He looked back and forth between Ayame and Iruka expectantly.
"No," Ayame said, "Iruka came and saved me."
"Eh, save is a strong word," Iruka said, closing up his broken umbrella and setting it by the door.
"Save is the right word," Ayame insisted, feeling so appreciative of his deep support.
Teuchi chuckled and crossed his arms. "Regardless of whether or not Ayame needed saving, there's a pot of tea ready for drinking. Have you both eaten?"
Ayame and Iruka exchanged a glance.
"No…" Iruka said.
Ayame also shook her head.
"Good," Teuchi replied, rubbing his hands together and grinning at them. "I made dumplings. Come in and eat!"
Together, the three entered the Ichiraku home. It was bright and cozy, a nice contrast to the rain that continued to fall outside. As Iruka and Teuchi talked, Ayame stole careful glances at Iruka. The memory of his kiss was still fresh on her lips. She couldn't wait to tell Hana and Yuna about her evening and hear her friends' thoughts, perhaps at their next girls' night.
The realization that she was now expecting Hana's return gave her pause, and then she smiled to herself, considering how her perspective had changed throughout the evening. In this atmosphere, sitting at a table decorated with a delightful variety of steamed buns and dumplings and watching the two men in her life converse animatedly, it was so easy to have confidence in Hana's return. Their confidence gave her hope. She took a moment to soak in the feeling and memorize what it was like...she knew she would have to draw upon it again when she was alone.
But in this moment, a sense of calm overcame her, and she knew that everything would be okay.
