The Trick Is Not Minding

Chapter Twenty-Six

The pair spent three more days at the onsen, and as much as they enjoyed it, all too soon it was time for them to leave. After one last soak in the spring, which both men admitted they’d miss, they got ready to leave, dragging their feet at the thought of returning to the real world.

Iruka was worried. It was all well and good to say they’d stay together in isolation . . . it would be quite another thing to do so openly. The teacher feared that Kakashi wasn’t ready. He prayed he was wrong, but the thought of being separated kept him tense and silent as they walked through the village. He headed towards his home, the copy-nin by his side, moving comfortably in sync without speaking.

The jounin stopped and placed a hand on Iruka’s shoulder. The teacher turned to him with a worried look on his face. “I need to go to my place and get some stuff,” he explained, “would you . . . would you come with me please, I’d rather not be there alone.”

“Of course ‘kashi, lead the way.” the teacher replied, remembering all too well the scene in the jounin’s apartment just a week ago. The copy-nin gave his hand a brief squeeze in thanks before releasing it and turning towards the place he’d rather never see again.

I can do this, the jounin kept telling himself, I can do this, he’s dead, it’s safe, but no matter how often he repeated it, a part of him refused to believe it. He sent a quick sideways glance to the man at his side. How can he be so calm about this, the copy-nin mused, it’s not like he has good memories of the place.

All too soon Kakashi was unlocking his door. Although Aoshi’s body had been removed, nothing else had been touched, and the smell of old blood was thick in the air as they moved towards the bedroom. There wasn’t much the copy-nin cared to keep from this desolation, aside from clothes, weapons and scrolls his possessions consisted of a single framed picture, a large potted plant . . . and his father’s sword. He ran his fingers over the sheath and wondered if it was time to give this up, too. No, he decided, it’s my legacy, no matter how I feel about it, so he added it to the small pile.

“Ready ‘ruka,” the jounin declared, forced mirth in his voice, “let’s get out of here.” The teacher was more than happy to go, having spent his time trying to block out the images that rose every time his eye caught sight of the bathroom, the closed door tempting his imagination with thoughts of what probably lay beyond. He shook his head to clear it before responding.

“Let’s go home then.” he replied, and reached out to intertwine their fingers for a brief moment before giving a tug and heading for the door.

Kakashi shut the door behind him, knowing he would never go back, this part of his life was, thankfully, over.
The pair were unaware of the looks they were drawing as they walked side by side, arms loaded with Kakashi’s belongings. When they finally reached Iruka’s and he pushed the door open he wrinkled his nose, what in god’s name is that smell, he wondered, rushing inside to open some windows and air the place out. Great, just great, his internal monologue continued, this’ll really convince him he wants to live with me.

“Just put your stuff wherever you want, I’ll clear some drawers for you in a few minutes.” the chuunin said in passing as he rushed into the kitchen, searching for the source of the offending odor. The flies buzzing around the bowl of now rotten fruit on the counter gave him a good place to start. He turned to find the copy-nin had moved into the room behind him and was busily cleaning out the fridge. He stopped to study the picture the jounin made, mask around his neck and an expressive frown on his face as he sniffed the carton of milk before shuddering and adding it to the sack in his hand.

“You don’t have to do that.” Iruka almost shrieked, mortified at seeing the famous warrior taking out his garbage, sure that at any moment he would bolt out the door, all too happy to leave him and his stinky apartment behind.

“Maa, ‘ruka, I don’t mind.” the jounin cheerily replied, “it’s not like I haven’t done it before . . . you should see my fridge after a month long mission.” He continued sorting through the contents, reaching past the teacher to snag the offending fruit before closing the bag.

Snapping out of his reverie Iruka moved to the bedroom, emptying some drawers and making room in the closet before putting fresh sheets on the bed and another set of towels in the bathroom.

When he went back to the living room he found Kakashi standing uncertainly in the center of the room, potted plant in his arms, searching for a place where it wouldn’t be in the way. The copy-nin hesitantly placed the plant and his picture on the only empty windowsill, hoping it wouldn’t upset Iruka. The teacher snorted at his choice . . . that windowsill was empty for a reason, it was virtually inaccessible. He pointedly made room by the large picture window and moved the jounin’s possessions to a place of honor, making a mental note to discuss it with him later.

Once everything had been put away, the teacher said “I need to go to the market, what would you like for dinner?”

“I like everything you make ‘ruka, would you like me to do the shopping for you? After all, you’re nice enough to let me stay here, I want to help.” the copy-nin earnestly declared.

“Kakashi,” the chuunin began with a sigh, grasping the copy-nin’s chin and turning his head to face him, “as long as you want to stay here this is your home as much as mine. You can touch things and move things and even mess things up if you want. . . this will never work otherwise. Now, if you want to come to the market with me you can, or you can do whatever else you may want.” With that he turned back to the kitchen to finish his shopping list, leaving the jounin standing, motionless, in the living room.

When the teacher left for the market, Kakashi silently joined him. Again they walked unusually close to one another, drawing looks and whispers from those who knew them. Finally, who should decide to approach them for more information but Genma, waiting until the chuunin was deep in discussion with the fishmonger.

“Hey Hatake,” he began, “did that medic find you, what was his name again?”

“Takeda”, the jounin grimly replied, “Takeda Shunpei, and yes, he did find me . . . did you tell him where I was?”

“No, I just told him you were probably with ‘ruka-chan, since you’ve been hogging all my ‘ruka time, so if he found him he’d find you.” The jounin stopped listening at ‘my ‘ruka time’, trying hard to figure out what this meant to him. After several moments thought he decided that he hated Genma for getting ‘ruka time’, whatever that was . . . but reluctantly concluded that perhaps he was in the way. He faded away, hands stuffed in his pockets, leaving Genma with the chuunin and heading deeper into the market.

Iruka turned around, a fish in each hand “Which one looks good to you ‘kashi? ‘Kashi? Where did he go?” he wondered as he looked for the copy-nin.

“He went that way ‘ruka.” Genma began, “What’s with you two anyway, since when have you been attached at the hip? Like I told that Takeda guy, I never get any alone time with you anymore.”

The teacher exploded. “Shiranui-san why must you take such familiarities with me. What I do and with whom I do it are none of your business and we will never have alone time.” he grasped the senbon sucker’s shirt and pulled him forward, growling in his face “Did you send that asshole after us?”

“No, no,” Genma backpedaled, trying to put space between himself and the angry chuunin, “Like I told Hatake, all I said was you two were probably together.”

“You told Kakashi this when?” The teacher gritted out, repeating over and over to himself, I must not kill my co-worker, I must not kill my co-worker.

“Just now . . . he got real quiet and then he just . . .” The tokubetsu jounin was cut off when Iruka’s hands clamped around his throat.

“I swear to god Genma, if anything happens to him I’ll tear your tongue out, you disgusting gossip whore.” the chuunin said in a low, deadly voice before shoving the senbon sucker away and running off in search of the copy-nin.