Fighting Dreamers

Fighting Dreamers

Chapter 4
“Lessons and Lust”

After Naruto’s fight the previous day, Iruka didn’t want to let him out on his own again. He was making Naruto work on his studies instead. Iruka had taught Naruto everything he knew, and Iruka was secretly scared that he had not prepared him well enough. Naruto would not only lag behind the other students physically but academically as well. He was a slow learner and required tireless patience to teach, and it wasn’t as if Iruka had received an amazing education himself. Most of the time, Iruka was learning what he taught to Naruto just weeks before he gave him the new lesson.

“Ugh! This is so stupid! When am I ever gonna need this?” Naruto growled, pushing the paper away from him in disgust. Bracing himself for a battle, Iruka leaned over the table to see how far Naruto had gotten.

“You didn’t even try the first problem, Naruto,” he chastised sternly. His son scowled and looked away.

“I hate math,” he replied stubbornly. Iruka aimed his best scary face at the petulant boy. Naruto glimpsed him out of the corner of his eye and blanched. Quickly, he picked up his stubby pencil and began to work on his assignment.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Iruka commented with a smug grin. His son waited until he thought he was absorbed in his book and then Naruto stuck his tongue out at him. “I saw that,” Iruka said, his book hiding an amused smile. Naruto’s blonde head lowered back over his paper and he began working in earnest, wary of provoking his father any further.

Time seemed to grind to a halt. Naruto alternated between staring at his word problem and glaring at the clock.

A few seconds ticked by. Then, Naruto was positive the hand went backwards instead of forwards.

“Dad! The clock’s broken! It’s going backwards instead of –”

“DO YOUR MATH!” Iruka roared, his face turning a vibrant, scary shade of red. Naruto looked properly scolded for about two seconds and then, for the millionth time, he started the first problem. Regaining his temper, Iruka sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Do you need help?” he asked wearily. Naruto gave him a long glance and then returned his eyes to his paper.

“No, I know how to do it,” Naruto replied innocently.

Iruka felt his eye twitch. It was a close thing, but he kept another outburst reigned in and returned to his reading. Naruto had finished two of the problems before he dared to speak again.

“Hey, Dad?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Iruka asked absently, absorbed in the story he was reading.

“Do you think Kakashi-sensei will be a good teacher?”

Iruka considered the man’s personality. He sighed.

“Just don’t pull any pranks on him and try to be respectful. I know it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, especially when you get excited, but Kakashi probably won’t be as patient with you as I am,” Iruka said.

“What are you going to do while we train?” Naruto asked, chewing on the end of his pencil. Iruka put his book down.

“I still have to find a job here. I’ll probably start this afternoon. Speaking of which, if I’m not here when you get home eat whatever I’ve left out for you and then get ready for bed, okay?” Naruto nodded and went back to his math problems.

By the time the morning was over and lunch was finished, Naruto had been cooped up inside for quite awhile. Iruka almost felt guilty for delivering him to Kakashi in such a hyper mood. Still, he’d be doing physical exercise, so Kakashi should be able to wear him down quickly. The two of them made their way to the ramen stand at the appropriate time, but Kakashi was nowhere in sight. Resigned to waiting, the two of them took a seat outside the building. They watched the villagers come and go for half an hour and still Kakashi hadn’t showed up.

“I’m sorry, Naruto. Kakashi was probably tied up with work,” Iruka said to the disappointed boy. Iruka was irritated highly with the man. What kind of person told a child they’d do something and then just blew the kid off without sending word? Naruto looked like someone had told him his puppy had been run over. Again, feeling helpless, Iruka said, “I’m sure there will be other chances, Naruto. Why don’t you come with me to do some job hunting?”

Naruto only shrugged. His big blue eyes kept roving up and down the street, searching for a familiar orange book and a shock of silver hair.

“Dad, can I stay and wait just a little longer? If it gets late I’ll go home. Please?” Naruto begged. Iruka sighed. He really needed to job hunt, and Naruto would only act sullen and moody if he forced him to go along. Surely, the boy couldn’t get into too much trouble just waiting. With a reluctant nod, Iruka agreed.

“Okay, but one more hour tops. If he’s still not here by then, go home,” Iruka ordered. Naruto nodded, happy that he’d be allowed to stay. With one last glance at him, Iruka took off down the street.

Naruto was not entertained by people-watching for very long without Iruka there to make it interesting. The antsy boy got up and walked in circles. The owner of the ramen stand came out, his apron still on, and gave him a friendly smile.

“Hey! It’s my big eater!” he greeted happily. Naruto flashed him a bright smile and patted his stomach.

“Yeah, but my dad already made me lunch. I’m here to meet my friend,” Naruto explained. The kindly owner indicated a cart loaded with boxes waiting near the back of the restaurant.

“Well, since he’s not here yet, would you like to help me out? I’ll give you some free ramen passes if you do,” he offered. Naruto whooped happily and punched his fist into the air.

“Sure thing, old man!” The owner, whose actual name was Teuchi, merely smiled at the boy’s exuberance.

“Alright, well let’s get started so that you’ll be done before your friend gets here,” he said genially. The cart was unloaded quickly with Naruto’s energetic help. When the work was done, Teuchi presented Naruto with five meal tickets – good for three bowls each. Reverently, the boy tucked them into his pocket.

“Thanks, old man!” Naruto said. “Hey, hey, what time is it?” he asked, having almost forgotten about Kakashi.

“It’s almost five thirty,” Teuchi replied. Teuchi was about to ask what time the friend was supposed to arrive when Kakashi casually strolled up, his nose buried in his orange book.

“YOU’RE LATE!” Naruto shouted with his finger thrust towards Kakashi accusingly. Kakashi raised an eyebrow and tucked away his book.

“I was helping a baby bird learn to fly in the forest…” Kakashi said with a happily crinkled eye. Naruto narrowed his eyes at him and then crossed his arms over his chest in a huff.

“You’re late and you’re lying, too! Better not tell lies around my dad. He gives spankings for lies. He says you should always keep your word and be honest,” Naruto informed, completely oblivious to the effect his words were having on Kakashi.

The silver-haired shinobi had to whip out his book to cover his mask; he was afraid he might have a nosebleed. The mental image of getting spanked by the sexy brunette for telling a lie was almost too much to handle.

“Enough about that. Let’s get going,” Kakashi said briskly, pretending to read as he led Naruto through the village streets towards the training ground. The hyperactive blonde bounced around him, skipping and jumping and generally acting like a moron. “Walk normally. Don’t waste energy uselessly,” Kakashi said – mostly so that he wouldn’t get seasick watching the boy’s blonde head bob up and down like a yo-yo.

Naruto nodded determinedly and moved behind Kakashi, imitating his slouched, long stride, one hand in his pocket. Oblivious, as Naruto was behind him, Kakashi merely walked on until they reached the training ground. It was empty, except for a few younger children that scurried off when they saw him approaching.

Kakashi tucked away his book.

“Okay, so we’ll start with the basics. Throw a punch at me,” he ordered. Naruto did so immediately and without hesitation, barreling into him with his fist extended and his head ducked down. Kakashi easily side stepped him and knocked him off balance. Naruto hit the ground and grunted, but quickly stood up as if ready to charge again. “Easy, easy!” Kakashi said, holding up his hand in a pacifying manner. Naruto huffed, like a frustrated bull, but remained waiting.

“First of all, don’t tuck your thumb inside your other fingers when you make a fist. In the unlikely event that you ever manage to hit something, you’ll break it. Do it like this,” Kakashi said and showed him a proper fist. Naruto nodded, obviously hanging on his every word. “Secondly, never take your eyes off of me. Don’t sacrifice vision for power – it becomes too easy for the enemy to retaliate.” Naruto nodded, but opened his mouth to ask a question.

“Hey, what’s retaliation mean?” Kakashi sighed.

“Retaliation means hitting you back,” Kakashi explained. Naruto nodded, his mouth forming the new word a few times silently as if he was trying to memorize it.

“Okay, I got it! What’s next?”

It went on like that until Naruto was kicking, punching, and blocking with relative ease. Kakashi kept expecting the boy to show signs of tiring, but after each new lesson he asked for the next one. It had almost been two and half hours of hard exercise – well, hard exercise for a child anyway. Naruto, however, hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Kakashi began to get curious about the source of the kid’s energy. He stopped Naruto from doing the repeated high kicks.

“Tell me, were your real parents ninja?” he asked. Naruto became quiet. He stared at Kakashi unflinchingly, and Kakashi thought he saw a glimpse of a child that was nothing like the bubbly boy he knew as Naruto. There was something lurking behind those big eyes of his – something steely blue and frightening in its ferocity.

The child was scarred, no matter how he tried to hide it.

“My dad is my real dad. I don’t know what you mean,” Naruto replied, though his tone suggested he knew exactly what Kakashi meant. His curiosity heightened even more, Kakashi re-phrased.

“Alright then, who were your birth parents?” he asked, feeling as though he’d entered into a staring contest with the boy.

The tension dissipated. Naruto returned to his kicks without being told to do so. Between the movements he spoke.

“I remember being really hungry, but not a normal hungry. I wanted something else. I wanted something red – lots and lots of red. There was a man not like my dad who had me, and then he left me in a dark place. Then I was hungry for food, and I was cold. There were hands that I didn’t like, and then shouting, and then dad picked me up and wrapped me in his coat so that I couldn’t see anything.” Naruto finished the high kicks and began to do lower ones with his other leg, still not paying Kakashi any attention. It was as if he was lost in vague, nightmarish memories. “I didn’t know he was my dad then. He was just a stranger. But he took care of me. I didn’t like him at first, because I thought he was going to leave me in the dark place again, but he kept me, even though I was really bad. When I got older and I could understand, he promised me he’d never leave me in the dark place. That’s why my dad always does what he says he’s going to do, so that I know I can trust him and I’ll never get left in the dark place again.”

Kakashi told him to stop his kicks.

“I think we’re done for today,” he said quietly. Lost in thought, Kakashi started to wander in the direction of the memorial stone automatically, but Naruto’s forcefully cheery voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“Hey! Don’t you want to come to my house for dinner?” he asked brightly, as if the scarred, jaded Naruto of a few moments ago had merely been a figment of Kakashi’s imagination. Kakashi’s eye widened at the abrupt change in demeanor, and he was reminded of his earlier plan.

Sex was good for getting rid of troublesome thoughts, too.

Naruto talked loudly and boisterously all the way back to his new home, but Kakashi knew and could not forget that there was something underneath the underneath where Naruto was concerned – he just didn’t know what exactly it was or what to make of it.

He would simply have to study the boy more. For now, he could safely say that his first judgment of Naruto as inconsequential had perhaps been too hasty. Only time would tell.

The apartment was empty when Naruto led him in. Kakashi was extremely disappointed. Still, there was a chance Iruka might return. Besides, it gave him the opportunity to snoop without Iruka knowing. Naruto puttered about in the kitchen re-heating dinner while Kakashi examined the picture of two people on the small table by the couch. Their faces were familiar, but the memory was elusive and fuzzy.

“They’re my grandparents!” Naruto said proudly. “They were really strong, brave ninja, but they died a long time ago. They were killed by a huge monster.”

“The fox demon,” Kakashi commented absently. He’d long ago sealed away any strong emotions connected with the monster that had killed his sensei. Naruto emerged from the kitchen holding a big pot of ramen with two sets of chopsticks. The pot had other random things in it – very obviously a personal recipe. Naruto set the pot down on the small dining table and passed the extra chopsticks to him.

Ignoring his qualms about eating from the same pot as the boy, he took a hesitant first bite once Naruto was distracted with his own eating. The meal was good, and he ate a bit more before feeling satisfied. Naruto continued to eat until the pot was empty.

“So where is Iruka?” Kakashi finally asked. Naruto scratched his belly and glanced at the clock.

“Dad is job hunting. He said I should put myself to bed if he’s not back by bedtime. Hey, hey, do you want to tell me a story?” Naruto asked excitedly. “A real ninja story – not the pretend ones dad tells,” Naruto clarified. Kakashi was grasping for an excuse when the front door opened and Iruka came in. He looked surprised to see Kakashi sitting at the table, but his surprise quickly morphed into a friendly smile.

“I’m glad Naruto thought to invite you for dinner. Did I make enough?” he asked. Kakashi nodded, and Iruka bounced over to his father to hug him in greeting.

“Did you find a job, Dad?” he asked brightly. Iruka gave him a tense smile and ruffled his hair.

“We’ll talk about that later, Naruto. We have a guest now. How was your training?” he asked, successfully distracting the boy. Naruto immediately began recounting everything he’d been told earlier, about kicking, punching, and blocking in a never-ending stream of loud explanation. Iruka took it all in with a serene smile, occasionally shooting Kakashi an amused or sympathetic look, as the narrative warranted. “You did all of that and yet you still don’t seem tired,” Iruka said with a weary smile.

Kakashi admired how patient he was with Naruto’s yapping. The kid wasn’t so bad when he was busy doing something, but how on earth did the man survive him when he was bored and unoccupied?

“He’s got stamina – lots of stamina. He may not be as technically advanced as the other kids, but he’ll probably outlast all of them,” Kakashi said. Naruto whooped excitedly at the praise.

“Did you hear that, dad?” he asked.

“Yes, I heard. I’m glad you got off to such a good start. Have you brushed your teeth yet? Washed your face?” Naruto grumbled and headed for the door that Kakashi assumed led to the bedrooms.

He was surprised to see it was only a bathroom. He didn’t show it, though. Kakashi examined the apartment again with a more critical eye. Everything was run down and the room was cramped, but yet somehow it felt like a good place. He couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Well, I’m going to put Naruto to bed soon,” Iruka commented, his eyes drifting towards the couch. Kakashi took the hint and stood.

“I’m going to wait outside. I’d like to talk to you for a moment when he’s settled,” Kakashi requested, not leaving much room for argument. Reluctantly, though it was obvious he was trying to hide the emotion, Iruka nodded.

Kakashi leaned against the metal railing of the apartment complex and looked out over the village settling down for the night. It wasn’t as pretty a view as he had at his place, but it was still nice to watch Konoha fall asleep as the stars brightened in the sky. The night air was warm and there was a pleasant breeze. Finally, the door creaked open slowly and Iruka slipped out. He shut it gently behind him. He hesitated, but then he moved to stand beside him near the railing.

“Did he behave today?” Iruka asked, forcing a cheerful tone of voice. Kakashi examined Iruka in the starlight – saw how it gently defined his handsome face and slender neck. The shadows made his long hair look darker than it really was – almost black instead of chocolate brown. Without really thinking about it, he reached out a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair being blown by the breeze behind Iruka’s ear.

Iruka allowed the touch, but when Kakashi pulled his hand back ever so slightly, Iruka moved away stiffly.

“I wanted to thank you for tutoring Naruto,” he began, again in that falsely bright tone. He had turned his back to him and crossed his arms in front of his waist. His eyes were turned up to the stars. Feeling bold and a little reckless, Kakashi closed the distance between them again and wrapped his arms around Iruka’s smaller body.

“Then thank me properly,” he purred into the man’s ear, following his suggestion with a greedy little lick. Iruka shivered, and Kakashi could feel him trembling, but the brunette sighed and leaned away. Kakashi had Iruka’s arms trapped underneath his own, so he could not push him off.

“I can’t thank you like that. Please let me go,” Iruka said calmly. Kakashi, frustrated with Iruka’s attempts to push him away, only wanted him more.

“And if I don’t?” he asked huskily, tightening his arms around his prey and nuzzling against his exposed neck and shoulder. The shirt he wore was old and the neck of the garment was conveniently stretched out. It allowed him to nibble at Iruka’s skin unhindered.

The brunette made a frustrated little noise and turned his head, as if to explain something to him, but it was a mistake. Kakashi was ready and waiting, mask pulled down, to capture Iruka’s lips in a kiss. Iruka made a muffled sound of protest, but he was helpless. Kakashi turned Iruka’s body and pulled him against his chest, letting the other man feel his growing excitement. Iruka’s hands fisted around his flak jacket, but whether it was in protest or neediness Kakashi couldn’t tell. He didn’t care.

He ended the kiss reluctantly, and only so that he could express himself properly.

“I want to fuck you, Iruka. Right now.” Iruka was shaking his head in protest, but his lips were wet with Kakashi’s kiss and his eyes were so achingly beautiful and sad at the same time that Kakashi couldn’t respect his wishes. He slanted his mouth over Iruka’s again, digging his erection into the man’s belly, wanting him to know just how much he was desired.

“Stop,” Iruka whispered weakly, pulling away from the kiss and turning his face away. Kakashi just kissed his neck instead.

“I can’t,” he replied harshly, uncaring if anyone saw them. If he turned Iruka over the railing and fucked him right there, would the old metal be strong enough to hold their weight?

They’d soon find out.

“Stop it,” Iruka tried again, straining to pull his arms free of Kakashi’s embrace. In the process, his hips pushed against Kakashi’s and there was proof that Iruka felt it too – it was carnal and hot and sparked like live wire between them.

“You want it, too, damn it,” Kakashi replied, roughly cupping Iruka’s erection to prove his point. The shorter man took advantage of his freed arm to slap his cheek. Hard.

“I want you to stop. Get a hold of yourself!” Iruka hissed angrily, cradling his throbbing hand against his chest. Kakashi, panting hard, stumbled back a few steps and touched his aching cheek in surprise.

“You slapped me,” he said slowly, bewildered that his guard had been completely dropped. He’d lost his precious control again, and the realization left him reeling. In a movement that was cold as ice water - like another slap to the face- Iruka pushed by him.

“Go home Kakashi,” Iruka barked. Kakashi heard the door close and lock, as if that could keep him away. As if they were done talking. As if he’d blown it.

Kakashi turned and plowed a chakra infused punch into the metal railing. The whole piece of railing whined, groaned, and nearly fell off the side of the building. His frustration nowhere near appeased, Kakashi growled and teleported himself to the memorial stone, his thoughts swirling like a Sharingan eye gone mad.



Chapter 5

Iruka did not fall asleep. He couldn’t.

What a shitty day it had been. He wanted to throw something, but he couldn’t because Naruto was sleeping like a little angel right next to him. Watching Naruto sleep usually calmed him down because there was something so sweet and gentle about it – but not tonight.

He was so furious, mortified, frustrated and worried that he couldn’t even think straight. He tossed to his other side, not caring that Naruto had hogged the blankets again. The air in the apartment was cool and goosebumps rose up on his tan skin. He shivered, but wasn’t really aware that he was cold.

‘What will the other kids say to him? I know we need the money, but he’s going to be so embarrassed. I’m so sick of this! I just want to be able to give my son a good life and everything is making it so damn hard!’ Iruka rolled into a ball and furiously rubbed his upper arms unthinkingly. He was frustrated to the point of tears, but the tears wouldn’t come.

They hadn’t come for a long time.

‘It’s not fair! I try so hard. When am I going to get a break?’ Iruka thought as he rolled onto his back again, chewing on a lock of his hair in an old habit that suggested how upset he was.

He’d checked every place he could find. All of them said the same thing. They weren’t hiring, but he should check over at the Academy. They always needed help. So Iruka had gone. He hadn’t wanted to work so close to where Naruto would be. He felt like it was Naruto’s chance to make something of himself, and he couldn’t do it with Iruka hovering over him. The only position open was for a janitor. Reluctantly, Iruka had accepted the job.

Iruka was worried the day would come when Naruto would push him away. They were constantly together – hell, they slept in the same bed at night. One day Naruto would realize all the things he didn’t have and even if he was a good kid, he’d be bitter. It was only natural. Iruka was bitter inside, and Naruto would be, too. Iruka had tried to shelter Naruto as much as he could, but there would come a time when Naruto wouldn’t want to be sheltered. There would be shame. There would be embarrassment.

When Naruto wanted to bring a girl home, he’d feel like he couldn’t because all they had was a run down one bedroom apartment. How would he be expected to make friends when he didn’t dress like the other children or have the same type of upbringing they had been given? How would he ever fit in with a bunch of rich kids when his dad was scrubbing the toilets at the school?

Then there was the constant fear. All it would take was one person to recognize him, or Kakashi to get angry with him (like he already had), and the secret would be out. The gossip would start. Have you heard? Naruto’s father was a prostitute.

While Iruka had been whoring, he’d told himself over and over that it was just a means to an end, but now he didn’t regret anything more than he regretted prostituting himself.

He could have sold drugs and stolen merchandise like he’d done before he met Naruto. That kind of work was so risky, though. He knew a lot of people that were dead before twenty because of it. He’d been so far into the gutter that he’d seen prostitution as something steady, secure, and safe.

What an idiot he’d been. He could have encouraged Naruto to do something less expensive. He could have given Naruto to someone that could actually afford him, instead of selfishly keeping the child as his reason for living. He could have worked three jobs if he had to – anything to save Naruto from what he was sure he would be exposed to when Kakashi realized he’d been refused and decided to blab. Why hadn’t he had any foresight?

Iruka got out of bed and went outside, a bit surprised to see the twisted metal Kakashi had left in his wake. He slouched against the wall until he was sitting, head resting on his folded arms.

“What do I do?” he asked quietly. Of course, no one answered him. Before he’d found Naruto, Iruka had been a heavy drinker and he wanted a drink now in a bad way. He felt like a helpless teenager again.

Back in those days, he’d run around with a group of kids that had escaped the orphanage and become something of a family. They faded and reappeared in each other’s lives without any regularity, sometimes offering help to each other and sometimes requesting it. It was one of these orphanage refugees, as they called themselves, that had gotten Iruka started on the black market, and another who had introduced him to peddling drugs.

But when he’d found Naruto – he’d given it all up cold turkey. He’d left behind the drinking and the drug scene. He’d started working honestly, and he became a good person. He was proud of himself. He felt like a father – like he’d finally grown up. Things had been so hard; Naruto had behaved terribly and sometimes he’d wanted to give up and go back to his old ways, but then Naruto would show a little progress and he’d re-double his efforts.

It was the happiest he’d ever been in his life – even happier than what he remembered of his life before his parents died. Naruto had given him hope.

Naruto grew and developed dreams of his own, and Iruka was so proud of him. When Naruto said he wanted to be a ninja, Iruka remembered his own parents and wanted that success and honor for his son, too. He was used to sex. It was an easy way to get money quick if you were in a bind, and he’d been forced by lots of unpleasant people, so why not just do it every night for awhile until they could have a better life?

That was how he had thought about it. He didn’t realize how painful it would be. He hadn’t anticipated the shame, or the loss of pride and dignity. Every night made him hate it more – hate himself more. But he ignored himself and his needs because somewhere along the way he’d stopped caring about himself – only Naruto mattered.

Naruto was getting his chance, but now Iruka felt like he was fucking it up.

Iruka stood and walked down the stairs of the apartment complex, down to the street, past the darkened shops and deeper into the village until the neon lights of a bar assaulted his eyes. He went in, just wanting to escape for a few hours. It was too much, and he was tired of everything. He didn’t notice the appreciative gazes of some drunken women as he entered, and he didn’t pay any attention to the lecherous old men sitting in the shadows. They were like actors in a play. Iruka had the insane idea that they were the same people that always sat in a bar when he entered one – the same men looking for an affair, the same regulars drinking because life was hard, and the same women wearing too much make up and too little fabric. For a moment, Naruto was gone and he was eighteen again.

There was Junpei over in the corner, laughing at some tramp who was crying because he was abusive and everyone knew it, running his hand up her thigh and under her dress – too stoned to care that he was out in public. A closer look revealed the girl was Rieko. She’d had cleaning duty with him sometimes back at the orphanage, and he remembered her young face against a backdrop of grungy tile, her tongue sticking out of her lips as she scrubbed the bathroom floors alongside him. When had little Rieko grown up? Junpei glanced at him but did not recognize him. He was too far gone. Iruka passed a booth and a man with a large beer pinched his ass. He turned, recognized the heavily bearded old man and smiled shyly. It was just Sadato. His crotchety old wife had probably kicked him out again. He’d paid Iruka a week’s worth of grocery money once to give him blowjob. It was the easiest money Iruka had ever made.

The radio was playing a song that was a strange mixture of guitar and pipe, and a woman was singing a sad melody. Two familiar faces were dancing in the shadows – one a friend from the orphanage, another one Iruka had met through the black market. The guy’s name was Fuuta, and Iruka couldn’t remember the girl’s name even though he’d shared a beer with her a few months prior. Up at the bar, a red-haired woman was sobbing over her drink. Iruka sat beside her and watched her cry. Aiya was so pretty when she cried.

Iruka heard the door open again and he turned, expecting another face he knew, and he wasn’t disappointed. Mizuki, handsome Mizuki who had been the star of Iruka’s first wet dream, sauntered in like he owned the place. Mizuki had comforted him after the owner of the orphanage, a fat toad named Ouga, had called him to his office after everyone else had gone to bed. Mizuki, strong Mizuki, who always said he was going to leave the country some day and be someone important, walked straight towards him and said…

“Iruka? Baby face Iruka? Is it really you?” the familiar voice asked. Iruka blinked and the world slammed into focus. Junpei, Rieko and everyone else were gone – just persistent memories – but Mizuki was real.

“Mizuki?” he asked disbelievingly. The pale man smirked in the same way Iruka remembered and a jolt of excitement raced up Iruka’s spine. It was Mizuki. He was really there. His old friend reached towards him and Iruka practically fell off his barstool in his rush to hug the man. Mizuki gathered him into his arms like he always had, hugging him tightly and even spinning him around a bit.

“It is you! How in the hell did you end up in Konoha again?” Mizuki asked, sitting beside him at the bar. His eyes stayed riveted on Iruka, but he gestured for the bartender to pour them some drinks.

“I…well…it’s a long story,” Iruka replied shyly. Why did he always feel so timid and breathless around Mizuki? Years had passed and it was like nothing had changed between them. Iruka felt like he should tell Mizuki about Naruto, but he didn’t. For just a little while, he wanted Mizuki all to himself again. He wanted to feel like Iruka – not like Dad.

“You look good, baby face,” Mizuki shot him a playful grin, “Or can I not call you that anymore? Some big boyfriend lurking around here that’s going to beat me up now?”

Iruka’s mind conjured up an image of Kakashi staring at him so possessively, like he’d just found his own personal sex toy, and he shook his head.

“No. I’m single…and you can always call me that. I’ve never let anyone else give me a nickname. It’s not much, but that was something I could give to you,” Iruka replied. It was still there. The mutual attraction practically simmered between them. Mizuki leaned closer to him, ignoring the other patrons at the bar that were shooting them odd looks.

“Gods, I’ve missed you baby face. This town is dry. Look at them all staring – it’s scandalizing! A gay couple in Konoha – we’ll probably make the radio news tomorrow,” Mizuki joked, talking loudly so the other patrons got the message. They quit staring.

“Konoha is nice. It’s always been nice. People like me don’t survive here, it seems,” Iruka commented sadly. He sounded depressing to his own ears, and he hadn’t even had a drink yet.

“You’re far too sober, baby face. Here, bottoms up,” Mizuki ordered, pushing a random drink towards him. He smiled and gulped half of it down. It burned like fire. He felt better already.

“Mizuki…how did you get here? You’re dressed like a shinobi. I want to hear that you made it. You beat the odds. Tell me,” Iruka pleaded, a sentimental smile on his face. Mizuki caressed his flushed cheek, threading his fingers through messy hair.

“I made it, just like I said I would. I’m sorry, baby face,” he half-whispered. Iruka leaned closer to him, their noses almost touching.

“For what?” he whispered back, his big brown eyes staring up into Mizuki’s black ones.

“I said I’d come back for you.” Mizuki looked serious – like he thought Iruka could actually be mad at him. Iruka grinned, then laughed, and then shocked everyone who was pretending not to stare by capturing Mizuki’s lips in an elated kiss.

“You never kept your promises to me,” Iruka reminded him after they pulled apart. Despite the words, Iruka was smiling at his old friend with so much love that a few of the women in the bar smiled at the romantic scene.

Iruka finished the rest of his drink, his eyes never leaving Mizuki’s. The pale shinobi sipped at his own drink, equally captivated by the sight of Iruka.

“So you’re not mad at me, for how things ended between us?” Mizuki asked, almost hesitatingly. At those words, Iruka finally glanced away from him. His loving, happy expression turned into a somber, saddened one.

“I forgave you a long time ago, I think,” he confessed. Beside him, Mizuki stared into his glass.

“I’m a teacher now, at the Academy.” Mizuki sounded proud of himself, and Iruka was proud of him, too. Still, Iruka didn’t mention Naruto. Not yet.

“I’m proud of you – really proud, Mizuki,” Iruka praised sincerely. Mizuki glanced up at him, a mischievous grin on his handsome face.

“I’ve had to be a good boy for a long time, Ruka. I missed you, and everyone really, for so long after I left. We had good times, didn’t we?” he asked softly. Iruka, feeling relaxed and pleasantly buzzed, shared his smile.

“Remember that time you and I went to Zato’s and that drag queen –”

“Oh god! I’d forgotten that!”

Mizuki blushed lightly and smiled broadly. Iruka snorted into his drink and leaned close to Mizuki again. Flirting back, Mizuki leaned in as well and Iruka brushed his nose along Mizuki’s cheek teasingly. Against his smooth jaw he whispered, “You looked so good in those high heels, Mizuki,” Iruka joked. The pale-haired man laughed and kissed Iruka’s cheek. He rested his hand on the back of Iruka’s chair and hooked his foot around the leg of Iruka’s bar stool. Grinning, he dragged the stool closer to his own, so that Iruka was pressed against his side and his arm was wrapped around him.

To explain his actions he said, “I’ve seen you fall off too many barstools not to take proper precautions.” Iruka laughed at his excuse to get closer and didn’t protest.

“It’s been hard, Mizuki,” Iruka said. He looked sadly into his drink. “I’ve done some really stupid things, but you’re here and you don’t know how bad I needed this,” Iruka said. Mizuki tilted his head to catch Iruka’s gaze.

“Anything worth fighting for is hard, baby face. Didn’t I always tell you that? So what are you fighting for in Konoha?” Iruka smiled at him, thinking of Naruto and the time he’d echoed Mizuki’s words of wisdom to his son.

“Someone else’s dream, I think,” Iruka replied. Mizuki shook his head.

“Now that won’t do. What’s your dream, baby face?” Mizuki was petting his hair and stroking his face gently, and Iruka wanted it to last forever if it was a dream.

“I don’t really know anymore. I think it’s him,” Iruka replied. Mizuki grinned, but it was tinged with sadness.

“Is it some stupid boy that doesn’t appreciate you?” Mizuki asked. “Because I’ll set him straight for you, baby face. Just say the word.”

“It’s my son, actually,” Iruka said. Mizuki’s fingers in his hair paused, but then resumed as if nothing shocking had been revealed.

“Did you love her?” Mizuki asked. Iruka looked up to study his expression. There was only resignation there…and kindness.

“I found him on the streets when he was about five. I couldn’t send him to Ouga. I got clean and tried to raise him right, like how I remembered my parents raising me, but I was stupid to think I could be like them, Mizuki. All I’ve done is messed things up.”

“Well, you must have done something right to get the two of you here. You’re in one of the wealthiest villages in the world,” Mizuki comforted. Iruka laughed self-depreciatingly.

“He wanted to be a ninja, so I stared prostituting myself to raise the entrance fee,” Iruka whispered. Mizuki’s fingers clenched around his glass. He was quiet for a long time.

Finally, he said, “You did what you had to do. It was just sex. You’re more than your body, you know baby?” Iruka snorted.

“Yeah, that’s what you think until you do it night after night. It’s hell, worse than hell. But thanks for understanding better than anyone else would,” Iruka replied.

“Does your son know?” Mizuki asked. Iruka shook his head.

“Not yet, but he will soon enough. I’m in a real mess,” Iruka said. He finished his drink and grabbed another. Mizuki stroked Iruka’s hair, comforting him as he had done so many years ago.

“Tell me, baby face. I’ll help you.”

“I let a shinobi from Konoha fuck me a long time ago, and now that we’ve moved here, he wants me again. The first night we were here, he let us stay at his place. He brought up my past, and I thought he was blackmailing me, so I slept with him again. When it was over, he told me he wasn’t going to blackmail me, and I realized he wasn’t a bad guy really.” Iruka took a long drink and then continued the story. “We talked a bit about our pasts, and he’s so lonely – lonely like I used to be after you…well, anyway, I treated him in a way that I shouldn’t have. Now he thinks I want to sleep with him and that I’m just playing hard to get, and he tried to force me tonight and I slapped him. He’s got to be angry. He’s going to tell everyone, and even if he doesn’t, the only work I’ve been able to find in Konoha is at the Academy as a janitor. My son’s already having trouble relating to the kids in town. It’s going to be even harder for him if his dad is working at his school scrubbing floors.”

Mizuki didn’t ask who the shinobi was, and he didn’t press for more details. That was the wonderful thing about Mizuki. He just listened, and comforted you, and then managed to fix the problem as if he were some kind of superhero.

At least, that’s how he’d seemed to Iruka when he was thirteen and Mizuki was sixteen. Mizuki had protected him when he was still new in the orphanage and been the first one to take him out on a date. Iruka’s first drink had been with him, and the first smoke he had touched Mizuki’s lips first. After Ouga called him into the office for the first time, Mizuki had cleaned him up and held him. They’d slept together when Iruka was fifteen and dated each other until Mizuki became old enough to leave the orphanage. For a year after that, Mizuki had snuck him out to live the fast life outside of the orphanage until Iruka was about to turn seventeen. Then Iruka had his heart broken for the first time and Mizuki disappeared. He never really dated anyone again after that. There were other lovers – hundreds, probably, if he counted his years as a prostitute – but there were no more dates.

He and Mizuki had a long past. There was no one, Iruka thought as he stared at his old lover, who knew him as well as Mizuki did. Every weakness, every fear, every humiliation and every desire…Mizuki knew it all.

A song came on the radio that Iruka recognized. He laughed, too loudly but he was drunk at that point, and grabbed Mizuki’s hand.

“Do you remember this song?” he asked, tugging Mizuki off his barstool. His old lover grinned at his antics and allowed himself to be pulled.

“Oh, I remember it.”

“We danced to it that night that the carnival came. I don’t think anyone slept that night – the whole world was awake. Dance with me?” Iruka asked, borrowing Naruto’s puppy dog look in hopes that it was convincing. Mizuki laughed, and didn’t care that everyone was staring at them.

“You’re drunk, baby face,” he replied. Still, Iruka pulled him against his body and hugged him tightly as he swayed. Mizuki, who was hardly buzzed, was well aware that they looked ridiculous.

On the other side of the bar, a tall woman with long, dark hair stood up and shot a playful smile at her companion.

“He’s got the right idea. I want to dance, Asuma,” she swayed her shapely hips encouragingly until the gruff man joined her – if only to prevent someone else from doing it. A few other pairs followed, obviously deciding the two gay men were just like any other couple enjoying themselves on a Friday night.

The bartender maintained a stoic face that suggested he’d seen it all before.

Feeling a little more comfortable, Mizuki took advantage of their closeness and cooperated. Their dancing found a rhythm and the song ended too soon for everyone’s tastes. Another song came on quickly, though, and the dancing continued for the rest of the night. Mizuki kept Iruka well fueled with alcohol, until the bar was ready to close down. It was almost two in the morning when they finally drifted out.

“Come to my apartment?” Mizuki asked. Iruka was practically falling over.

“I…shouldn’t but I…can’t remember why. Isn’t that funny?” Iruka burst into loud, hearty laughter. Even drunk, he was gorgeous. Time had treated Iruka well, Mizuki thought with a small smile as Iruka tugged at his shirt. “I’m so hot! Are you hot, too? Is it just me?” Mizuki grinned wolfishly.

“It’s just you, baby face. Come with me. I’ll get you home early in the morning so that your kid won’t ever know you left,” Mizuki said. Iruka stumbled a bit and grabbed Mizuki to stabilize himself.

“I don’t…I don’t want to…to fuck, okay?” Mizuki was a bit surprised. In the past, alcohol had always made Iruka horny. He’d gotten his hopes up.

“We’ll just sleep,” Mizuki replied. Deciding Iruka was going to take forever if he walked on his own, Mizuki scooped the inebriated man up into his arms and carried him quickly to his place. Once inside, he sat Iruka on the bed. Iruka stared up at him lovingly. “Are you still hot?” Mizuki asked slyly. Iruka blinked, then his face flushed. He nodded. Mizuki smirked, nudging Iruka’s knees apart so that he stood between them. Gently, he pulled at Iruka’s hair tie until the long locks fell around his shoulders. His thick, mahogany colored hair had always delighted Mizuki. Running his fingers through it had been Mizuki’s favorite hobby, once upon a time. With a contemplative look on his face, Mizuki examined Iruka, flushed and drunk beneath him.

“Take off your shirt. You’ll cool down that way,” Mizuki instructed. Iruka nodded trustingly and raised his arms to let Mizuki undress him. “Lay back, baby face,” Mizuki said. Iruka wet his lips with his tongue, obviously confused and troubled about something, but he was too drunk to remember. Mizuki pushed his shoulder gently, and that decided the matter. Iruka fell backwards with a gentle thump. His slender torso was no longer boyish, as Mizuki remembered it being.

Baby face had done some growing, Mizuki realized with a smirk. He unbuttoned Iruka’s threadbare jeans and slid the zipper down. They were ripped at the knee, but they looked hot on him. Iruka scratched his chest and groaned. He covered his mouth with his arm.

“Are you going to be sick, baby?” Mizuki asked, halting momentarily. Iruka mumbled something, but shook his head ‘no.’ Mizuki tugged Iruka’s pants down, followed by his underwear. His own erection was demanding some attention. Iruka tensed underneath him, the muscles in his legs straining as Iruka wiggled against the cool sheets. He moved his arm away and his expression was one of pleasure. He spread his arms wide and slid them over the sheets, as if he were making an angel in the snow.

“So cool…feels good…” Iruka mumbled. His eyes were barely open, and Mizuki was fairly positive he didn’t know where he was or what was going on.

“Iruka, baby?” Mizuki asked, a smile twisting his face unpleasantly. The brunette blinked in his general direction. Good enough. He wasn’t unconscious, so he was fair game. Besides, Iruka wouldn’t know that he hadn’t agreed. Mizuki would be surprised if he remembered his own name when he woke up, much less what their conversation had been.

Mizuki would tell him that he begged for it – just like he had done when he was fifteen. Iruka begged so prettily. The memory made him impossibly harder. Mizuki undid his own pants and stepped out of them, and then tugged his shirt off quickly. He spat onto his hand and moistened his dick. Iruka was an old friend, after all. He deserved that much, at least.

Mizuki pinned Iruka with his body and was about to slide home when Iruka’s eyes cleared somewhat and he began to struggle. Mizuki cursed and cupped a hand over Iruka’s mouth so he wouldn’t wake the neighbors. Iruka thrashed his head from side to side, pushing against Mizuki’s body weakly.

“Shhh, baby face, shhh…” Iruka recognized the pet name and quieted almost instantly. He quit struggling and simply stared at the ceiling vacantly as he was thrust into. The bed protested, and Iruka was jolted each time Mizuki crashed against him. Mizuki grunted in pleasure and grabbed Iruka’s left leg, hoisting it up over his shoulder. He changed his angle ever so slightly and Iruka gasped. The brunette’s arousal began to grow as Mizuki mercilessly pounded his sweet spot. Mizuki still knew Iruka’s body almost better than he knew his own, even after so many years had passed.

Still, he had acted too late. He came powerfully into Iruka and the smaller man was still unfulfilled. Mizuki pulled out carefully and replaced his spent dick with his fingers. As Mizuki watched Iruka’s lips gasp for air and his eyes close in pleasure, his desires darkened. Iruka hadn’t been his for a long time, and he’d taken other lovers – many of them.

Call him irrationally jealous, but it made Mizuki angry. It made him want to teach Iruka a lesson. Two fingers turned into three, three turned into four, and four turned into fisting him up to his forearm. Still, he pumped Iruka’s arousal to distract him from the pain. He didn’t want Iruka to feel it now – he wanted him to feel it later. Preferably when this new guy that was interested in his baby face was watching Iruka try to walk normally and failing miserably.

Finally, Iruka came with a pained moan. Mizuki extracted his fist and went to clean himself up. He returned after he’d taken a shower to clean Iruka. His lover hadn’t moved, but he was bleeding on the sheets. Mizuki toweled him off, but was growing tired and didn’t feel like doing the job properly. Ignoring Iruka, who was acting as if he were sleeping with his eyes open, Mizuki left him and went to sleep on the couch.

When Iruka woke up his entire body hurt. He was in a strange bed and he was naked. For a few disorienting moments he thought he’d been whoring himself again. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in such a position.

But it was bad. He could hardly move. The only person who had ever fucked him so hard was…Mizuki.

And he remembered. Drinking…dancing…kissing…

Had he protested? He couldn’t remember. Judging by his memory, it was doubtful. He’d acted as if he were seventeen again last night – as if he didn’t have a son or responsibilities. Iruka wondered if his parents could see him, wherever they were, and the feelings of shame made him turn to the side and violently throw up.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Mizuki’s voice said. “I was just coming to clean you up.”

Iruka thought he was crying, but he touched his cheek weakly and realized his eyes were dry. He still could not cry. He threw up some more, instead.

“Looks like we had too much fun last night. I made you bleed.”

“Bastard,” Iruka spat out, but it lacked any real hatred or malice. He and Mizuki had simply been through too much for something as minor as a harsh fuck to really anger him. Besides, a little bleeding was child’s play compared to what Mizuki usually liked. Mizuki had suffered, too, more than Iruka had, and when Mizuki sheltered and comforted him it came at a price.

Mizuki needed comforting, too, and Iruka couldn’t complain about what comforting Mizuki entailed. He’d loved him, and pain had become irrelevant a long time ago.

“What time is it?” Iruka asked softly.

“Early. You’re kid’s probably not awake yet, so stop worrying. Do you want me to clean you?” Mizuki asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

Iruka wondered why he’d been so happy to see the bastard the night before. Modestly, he covered himself up with a sheet and managed to sit up without groaning in pain. Clearly irritated, he snatched the wet towel from Mizuki.

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Come on baby face, don’t be like that. You were so friendly last night,” Mizuki taunted, sitting beside him on the bed. Iruka rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand.

“I’m too old to be doing this stupid shit. I have a son. I can’t believe I got drunk last night,” Iruka moaned. Mizuki laughed.

“You were wasted. From what I heard, you needed it,” Mizuki commented.

“I didn’t need it. I’m not an alcoholic anymore, and last night was a mistake.”

Mizuki chuckled.

“Iruka, you grew up into a grouchy old man. You were fun last night, so don’t be such a stick in the mud. I’ve seen you do things decent people can’t even imagine. Quit acting like such a prude.” Iruka sighed.

“Quit teasing me, Mizuki. I’m not your teenage fuck toy anymore. I have a –”

“You have a son now. I know. You’ve only mentioned it fifty times or so,” Mizuki groused. Then he grinned. “And I teach children. Isn’t that a scary thought? I guess it’s inevitable that some guys like us live long enough to fuck up the next generation.”

Warily, Iruka rubbed his face.

“Don’t talk like that. I’m still hopeful I might quit acting like stupid prick someday,” Iruka replied. Despite everything, it was good to banter with Mizuki again. Their relationship was strange, dysfunctional, and unhealthy…but Iruka knew that no matter how flawed Mizuki was, he was special. He never kept a promise, he lied about everything, and sometimes he acted like he didn’t have any emotions, but Iruka knew that deep inside Mizuki was a kid that had been hurt and rejected too many times.

So Iruka loved him. He’d promised him that a long time ago, and time didn’t change that, no matter what Mizuki did to him.

He probably had protested last night. No way he could have been so far gone that he’d agreed to being fisted. Iruka sighed. Next to him, Mizuki leaned against his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at him. Iruka snorted.

“I vowed to give up sex,” Iruka said. Mizuki tried to keep a straight face for about two seconds.

“That’s…funny…in a sad kind of way. You play the victim, but you’re a slut, baby face. Don’t lie to yourself,” Mizuki replied. Iruka tilted his head from side to side, trying to pop his neck.

“Maybe I used to be. You try having sex every night with fat, old men and see if you still want it.”

“But you want it with me, right? I mean, now that you’re in Konoha…”

“Oh, please, don’t you start, too,” Iruka pleaded. Mizuki scrunched his nose up at the foul smelling sheets.

“You know I’m special. I’m not just some random ninja that had to pay you to get into your pants.” Iruka snorted at Mizuki’s description of Kakashi.

“No, you had to booze me up and rape me.”

Mizuki nipped his shoulder playfully.

“Rape is such a strong word.” Iruka couldn’t help but laugh. What a mess his life had become. “You need to clean up. You stink. I have to get this place looking decent again before noon.”

“Why?” Iruka asked, half-afraid to hear the answer. Mizuki grinned the grin that told Iruka he’d been misbehaving.

“My fiancé, Tsubaki, is coming over,” Mizuki said. Iruka sighed.

“Why didn’t I see that one coming? You think I’d learn my lesson, huh? Does this poor girl love you?” Iruka asked. Mizuki shrugged.

“Probably. She doesn’t understand me like you do. No one does, no one ever will.”

Dryly, Iruka replied, “I’m touched. Forgive me for not getting emotional, but my ass is bleeding and I’m pissed off.” Iruka shifted and winced. Walking was going to be a bitch. Mizuki stood up, hands on his hips.

“Are you judging me?” Mizuki asked harshly. Iruka winced again, for a different reason.

“Maybe someone needs to, Mizuki. Don’t you even care that you’ve cheated on this girl? That you used me to do it when I didn’t know about her?”

“Fuck you, Iruka. You know I’d leave her if only you said the words. You’re not a kid anymore. Didn’t I say I couldn’t be with you until you grew up and figured out who you were without me?”

“Don’t give a noble reason for cowardly behavior. You cheated on me and got a girl pregnant. She killed herself, in case you were wondering. Knowing you, you probably weren’t,” Iruka spat harshly. Mizuki scowled and ran a hand through his hair.

“So I fucked up – badly. You know you’re the only person I’ve ever cared about. You’re the only person who knows me. The girls are just distractions. I can’t fuck them. They can’t give me what I need. Being a shinobi gives me an outlet, but sometimes it’s not enough,” Mizuki said. Iruka remained quiet.

“You’re so violent, Mizuki – so filled with hatred about things you can’t change. I know there’s something inside you that’s still pure. I know there is, but I’m seriously starting to think I must have some kind of mental problem that makes me gravitate towards people that are emotionally fucked up. What do you think?” Iruka asked, frowning up at Mizuki. The pale haired shinobi smiled and looked down at the tired man.

“You sacrifice yourself to fix others. You’ve always been like that. It’s why we’re perfect for each other – I only know how to take, and you only know how to give.”

Iruka stared at him for a moment and then smiled serenely, as if he’d finally lost his marbles.

“I need a therapist. I really do.” Mizuki grinned boyishly and tugged Iruka up, ignoring his startled grunt of pain.

“No, you need a shower. Then you need to get home before your kid wakes up and wonders where daddy went.”

Iruka took a shower and used the time to suppress all the emotions he couldn’t handle. He thought of Naruto and his dream to be a ninja, and he thought of the loneliness in Kakashi’s mismatched eyes, and knew he had to put a happy face on and keep going.

He’d promised them that he would. He pressed his head against the cold ceramic tile and an old memory flashed behind his closed eyes.

His mother leaned down and kissed him, even though he was too old for that sort of thing.

“You can’t go fight that thing, Mom. It’s a monster. You don’t have a chance!” Iruka protested. His beautiful mother smiled sadly and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“I made a promise to Konoha, and I always keep my promises. That’s my way of the ninja. Be strong, Iruka, and have faith.”

Iruka opened his eyes and tried to cry. No luck.

He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower gingerly, wrapping a towel around himself. Mizuki had brought his clothes into the bathroom while he’d been showering, and he dressed himself slowly, cursing Mizuki’s roughness. He emerged out of the bathroom to see the bedroom had been cleaned. There was no evidence of their dalliance.

Sighing, dreading having to put on a show for the rest of the day, Iruka made his way into the small living room. Mizuki had a nice place, he noticed without much interest. Mizuki was puttering about in the kitchen. Iruka glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the morning.

It really had been a shitty day.

“You leaving?” Mizuki asked.

“Yeah, I have to get home,” Iruka replied. Mizuki glanced up from whatever he was making and flashed Iruka a familiar smile.

“Got your faith?” It was a painful reminder of the memory he’d just re-lived in the shower, but it was an old tradition between them. Iruka swallowed thickly.

“Got it. I’ll…see you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

And so he left, and went back home to crawl in bed with Naruto. At his front door, however, he was stopped short. Resting against the door was a bouquet of wildflowers and roses. Assuming someone had left them at the wrong door, he gingerly bent over to pick up the bouquet. Iruka unrolled the tiny scroll tied to the bouquet.

I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? – Kakashi

Iruka smelled the beautiful flowers.

“This is a good start, Hatake,” he muttered to himself. “But you and your lonely eyes don’t know what you’re getting into. I’d pity you, but it only gets me in trouble.”

Sighing, Iruka carried the flowers into the apartment. Above him, sitting on the roof, Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. He’d imagined countless scenarios since he left the flowers and settled down to wait for Iruka’s reaction, but Iruka limping up the stairs like he’d just been fucked all night to pick up the flowers and say how much he pitied him was not exactly what he’d hoped for.

And talk about underneath the underneath! He knew the brunette was carrying some emotional baggage, but what he’d seen in the man’s eyes was almost unbelievable. Kakashi had seen that look before – in the eyes of his fellow ANBU members. Kakashi didn’t now a person could hide that look.

It was definitely going to take more than just a single bouquet of flowers to fix all the hurt that had been done to Iruka – both by himself and others. Kakashi jumped from the roof, already making plans.

Sunday was blessedly uneventful for Iruka. Naruto was quiet, as if he sensed his father was not feeling well, and they didn’t have any interruptions until around three that afternoon. The doorbell rang.

Iruka was careful not to let any anxiety show on his face. Was it Mizuki come to tell him he’d left his girlfriend? Was it Kakashi with his lonely eyes that were so hard to resist?

Iruka opened the door to see that it was a blonde haired woman, but Iruka couldn’t properly see her due to all the flowers she carried. It had to be thirteen or fourteen bouquets at the very least.

“Um…” Iruka said dumbly. She peeked over the top of the massive armload and smiled.

“Are you Iruka Umino?” she asked. Iruka nodded. The woman held out the flowers to him. Iruka didn’t take them.

“This has to be a mistake. No one would…oh no. Surely he didn’t send all these,” Iruka said in disbelief.

“He asked that his name not be mentioned, but he wanted me to pass on a message. He said, ‘I might not know what I’m getting into, but I’m not the only one who has lonely eyes.’ I’m sure it would be more romantic if I knew what it meant. All the same, he’s nearly bought out our shop, so I’d say you’ve got a keeper.” Iruka had no choice but to take the various bouquets the woman pushed into his arms.

“You can tell him -” Iruka started. He was cut off.

“No, you can tell him. I deliver flowers. I’m not a mail service,” she replied waspishly. Then, she turned and addressed someone Iruka couldn’t see. “Hurry up with those, Inoichi, and you too, Ino!” Iruka barely had time to pass off the armload of bouquets to a curious Naruto before a tall man with long, blonde hair passed him another, bigger bunch. He had to put those on the floor to take the ones from the young girl who looked to be about Naruto’s age.

Naruto blushed when he saw her.

“Hey! You’re that boy that Sasuke-kun beat up by the ramen stand,” she remarked. Naruto scowled at her.

“I didn’t get beat up!” he replied, a bit petulantly.

“Yes, well, you can talk to your little friend later, Ino. We need to get back to the shop. Have a pleasant day,” the woman said without much sincerity. Stunned, Iruka closed the door without replying.

“What are we going to do with all these stinky flowers? And who sent them?” Naruto asked, nudging a bouquet with the toe of his sandal as if it were a dead animal.

“I don’t know. Maybe this is a Konoha custom that we don’t understand.” Iruka hoped the lame excuse would pacify the boy. Naruto examined the huge flower pile for a few more moments before returning to his drawing. Like most eight-year-old boys, flowers didn’t not interest him overly much. If Kakashi had chosen chocolates, then it might have been a different story.

For the sake of Iruka’s sanity, Iruka was glad he hadn’t. If he’d had to deal with Naruto hyped up on sugar for the rest of the week, Iruka probably never would have talked to the man again. Since he’d chosen flowers instead, Iruka wasn’t quite sure what he’d do.

It was the first time anyone had ever given him flowers.

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry it took me so long to get these updates here, but they've been up on my journal for awhile so I don't feel too guilty. Hope you're enjoying the story!