Bathhouse revelations

Chapter 4

Iruka could feel the warmth of the late morning sun on his tanned skin and bedsheets, but he couldn’t care less. It was Saturday. There were no classes, no mission room duties awaiting him. So why bothering to get up anyway, huh? He could spend the whole day in his bed if he wanted to. And that option seemed very appealing to him right then... Yes, very appealing.

Truth being told, Iruka used to get up early on Saturday mornings to clean his small apartment, do the laundry and the groceries. But on that beautiful Saturday morning, all the chuunin wanted to do was to keep on cuddling his warm sun-bathed blankets and forget about everything else. In fact, he didn’t even want his foggy brain to remind him what exactly he wanted to forget so much to start with. No, he didn’t want to remember.

... Alas, his brain seemed to catch up with him in the end and he groaned at the vague remembrance of the previous day’s events. Frowning, Iruka hugged his blankets tighter and tried to force himself to go back to sleep already and forget about it all for at least another one or two hour. Or for the rest of the weekend, preferably. But right then, his stomach protested loudly against it. The chuunin inwardly growled, annoyed at the evil ploys his stomach and his brain had put up to force him out of bed. He hugged his blanket even closer and resolutely shot his eyes even tighter, refusing to let his stupid stomach win over him. But after countless minutes spent lying face-down on his bed, he had to face the truth; he would not be able to go back to sleep.

Sighing to himself, Iruka reluctantly sat up and scratched his unshaved face distractedly, inwardly cursing his grunting stomach for being hungry so early. What hour was it anyway? Iruka lazily grabbed the clock laying on his bed table and stared at it. It showed 1:17 p.m. Okay, maybe not that early anymore, he admitted with a resigned sigh.

Normally, he would have been downright upset to get up at such a late hour - he rarely got up after nine in the morning. But for some reasons, that day Umino Iruka didn’t seem to mind. Passing his hand in his untied hair, the academy teacher mildly wondered what to do now. Usually, he cleaned his apartment, did the laundry and the grocery on Saturdays. But this couldn’t quite be said to be an usual Saturday either.

First things first: he was hungry, or at least his stomach was telling him so, so he would eat. Yes, that was his plan. Eating first, and he’d think of something else afterward. With that plan in mind, the brown-haired man got up and sloppily walked to his small sun-bathed kitchen. He first made his way to the fridge, even though he already knew it was nearly empty since he hadn’t done the groceries yet. Who knew, maybe he still had something eatable somewhere in there... But further investigations revealed his hopes had been vain. He then rapidly looked into his small cupboard but was disappointed once again, as it was nearly as empty as the fridge, except for some canned vegetables and tomato juice. Great.

Out of better options, the chuunin fished a milk bottle out of his fridge, opened it, sniffed it and, judging his chances of survival were acceptable, drank it directly from the neck, not even caring to get himself a glass.

Iruka truly felt miserable. He felt like he’d been walked over by an elephant - he had barely slept, his worries and dark thoughts keeping him awake most of the night. If at least in his insomnia he had found a way to overcome all these troubling issues... But it seemed that lady luck wasn’t on his side that particular week. The bathhouse forced revelation and now this...

His stomach grunted a little louder. The chuunin sighed and lazily contemplated commanding take-out – cooking was out of question because 1) he didn’t feel like it, and 2) because to cook, people usually needed food, something he seemed to lack of at that precise moment. Plus there was no way he’d leave his apartment in that state, no matter how hungry he was - he liked to think he still had some pride left. And the prospect of facing a whole village convinced he was in love with one of the most famous and mysterious male jounin in town was not exactly appealing either. Which meant commanding take-out.

As he was mildly wondering if he would command pizza or fried chicken for breakfast, someone knocked on his front door, startling him. Iruka groaned at his bad luck. Oh, that was just perfect. He just needed to be seen by anyone in such a pitiful state. Just. Great.

For half a second, Iruka seriously contemplated faking to be absent and just let rot outside whoever had come to visit him, but then his visitor did not leave him the choice as he shamelessly opened his unlocked door and entered the small apartment. Iruka inwardly swore, feeling suddenly very annoyed at whoever lacked enough manners to wait for him to open the door before entering. Why wasn’t the stupid door locked anyway!? What was the point of having a lock on your door if you didn’t even use it when it was important, like, for example, when you felt like shit and didn’t want to see anyone on a certain Saturday morning?

“Iruka-sensei?” his visitor called and the chuunin recognized at once his ex-pupil’s voice. He mentally groaned; of course, it had to be Naruto. Who else would enter as if he owned the place like that anyway?

“Ah, Naruto!” he said with fake enthusiasm as he heard the young man walk toward him. Before he even knew it, the young man was entering the kitchen, a broad smile plastered on his somewhat still boyish face.

“Hey, Iruka -- SENSEI!” the teen bellowed as he caught sight of his ex-teacher, his eyes as wide as saucers. “What the hell happened to you? You look like shit!”

Iruka smiled weakly; somehow, he couldn’t help but find Naruto’s predictable outburst a bit cute. Trust Naruto to be so straightforward and to exaggerate everything. But then again, he knew the teen was probably right. He was unshaved, sweaty, his hair was a real mess and he probably had shadows under his eyes that could put to shame Hayate-san’s – he guessed he looked overly miserable. And one could not help but notice he was still in his wrinkled pajamas past 1 p.m., which was just wrong. Obviously, Naruto had noticed it as well.

“Well I’m glad to hear my appearance fits with my mood,” the chuunin joked mildly, knowing far too well pretending to be okay would not convince his stubborn ex-student - Naruto was far too perspicacious to be tricked this easily. But maybe, just maybe, the teen would understand he didn’t want to talk about it and leave that matter alone... out of respect for him. Although Iruka highly doubted such a thing to happen; when the ramen-lover was upset, his new-found discretion was usually soon forgotten. And by the worried and slightly panicked look the teenager was giving him, Iruka knew he just earned himself a full interrogation. He inwardly sighed at the thought; he should have known better than to hope otherwise...

“What’s wrong, Iruka-sensei?” Naruto asked him boldly, barely hiding his concern.

“I had a harsh week and I’m a bit exhausted,” the brown-haired man explained casually, hoping the blonde would understand that he didn’t want to talk about it. And after all, he was entirely saying the truth - harsh being an euphemism, of course, but Naruto didn’t need to know that.

“Just a harsh week?” Naruto repeated sceptically, giving him a severe look that obviously said he was not buying it. Iruka simply nodded, drinking another mouthful of milk.

“Bullshit. You’re teaching pre-genin brats, harsh weeks are your usual lot!”

“Don’t speak of them like that. Mind I remind you that you used to be one of those ‘brats’ only a few years ago?” Iruka scolded the young man on a mildly indignant voice, carefully avoiding to answer the blonde’s question. But Naruto wasn’t fooled and obviously couldn’t care less about the appellation Iruka’s students should be given. The young man stared silently at his ex-teacher, an unreadable look on his boyish face. Iruka knew that look; it was the look the blonde usually gave people when he was seriously thinking something over. That couldn’t be good, Iruka decided warily.

“... Would it be linked with those rumors?” Naruto finally asked on an unusual quiet tone, watching the older man carefully. At those words, Iruka felt like something had hit him and he his whole body tensed up defensively. He at once realized his reaction had given him away as his ex-student’s expression shifted ever so slightly. The brown-haired man looked away, shifting his gaze to the broken tile beside his bare feet.

Somehow, Iruka felt something sink in him at the thought that the blonde knew. He had foolishly hoped Naruto wouldn’t hear about it. Or at least, not so soon. But who had he been kitting? Nobody could stop Konoha’s gossip machine; Naruto was bound to hear about it sooner or later. They were bound that have that humiliating discussion sooner or later. He might as well get over with it, he thought with resignation.

“... Between other things, yes,” the teacher admitted half-heartedly, still avoiding the teen’s eyes.

“Are they true?”

“God no,” Iruka answered flatly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The kitchen fell silent and when Iruka opened his eyes again, he found the teenager’s piercing blue eyes set on him, his young features showing skepticism. Somehow, Naruto didn’t look satisfied with his answer.

“Is it the only thing putting you down? Some stupid rumor?” the teen said incredulously and Iruka stared with surprise at him. “The Iruka-sensei I know is stronger than that! You’re not honest with me – I know there’s something else on your mind.”

The chuunin looked away once again and reminded silent. As the silence stretched between them, Iruka inwardly cursed the young man’s perceptiveness. Of course there was something else on his mind! There were so many things on his mind that he could feel his head throb already...! But he didn’t want to discuss those things, and especially not with one of his ex-students. Couldn’t Naruto see that? Didn’t he understand? Why couldn’t he respect his privacy for once? The teen seemed to respect everyone’s privacy, except his! It was plain unfair.

“Iruka-sensei.” Naruto said his name flatly, on that kind of voice adults used when they wanted their children to know they were better spilling out the beans right then because they had more patience than them. Which was probably true in Naruto’s case; the teen was so stubborn...

God, he couldn’t believe he was giving up already.

“Well...” the chuunin started off reluctantly, “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help being worried about what people’ll think... My students, their parents and... Kakashi-sensei.” He said the last name softly, the silver-haired man’s name feeling suddenly strange out of his mouth.

“Why would it matter?” Naruto said bluntly and Iruka gave him a tired look. “I mean seriously, you shouldn’t worry yourself so much over what a bunch of year old will think of you. And their parents are grown-ups, they have enough common sense to know that such a thing won’t change a thing into your teaching methods, and that’s all that matter, right? Anyway, this will all be forgotten in two or three weeks, so it’s not the end of the world.”

“I’d like to be as optimist as you...” the brown-haired man muttered gloomily under his breath.

“As for Kakashi-sensei, you don’t have to worry. He won’t hear about it,” the blonde added with assurance. Iruka gave him an incredulous look.

“How can you be so sure about it?”

“Weeellllll, hm, you could say Kakashi-sensei is like... a social hermit. Doesn’t like social interactions - he doesn’t hang with people unless he really really has to. And if he doesn’t talk to people, then he doesn’t hear gossips. Trust me, he won’t hear about it.”

There was a long, easy silence between the two males. Iruka stared at the floor quietly, thoughts rushing in his head. He was skeptical about Naruto’s thought process, but he didn’t voice out his doubts. Naruto probably just wanted to reassure him, and he appreciated the gesture. But somehow, some part of him couldn’t help but being a little hopeful. What if it was true? Could it be even possible for the Copy nin not to hear about it...? Even if Kakashi was a total hermit, sooner or later he’d hear about it or at least notice it, with the whole village treating it like a scandalous public affair. It was only a question of time... But Iruka felt a bit reassured nonetheless by Naruto’s words. Maybe, just maybe, the jounin would not learn the news... He didn’t want the Copy nin, of all people, to hear about it. What if Kakashi-sensei, hearing that he was in love with him, asked him out? Or, even worse, confessed him his love? What would he tell him? Hell, he didn’t even know how he felt toward the man since he learned the Sharigan user loved him!

Of course, he could always confront him first and warn him about the false rumor, but somehow the chuunin didn’t want to hurt Kakashi’s feelings by telling him he didn’t love him - especially since he didn’t even know if he had feelings or not for the older man to start with! The more he thought about it, the more troublesome his situations appeared to be. Oh, how he dreaded the day he would have to confront the jounin again...! It must have showed on his face, because Naruto gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry too much over it, Iruka-sensei. I bet in no longer than one week, they’ll have forgotten about it already and we’ll be laughing of it together.”

The chuunin gave his ex-pupil a small tired smile. “...Thank you, Naruto.”

“No problem. You know,” Naruto suddenly added on a lighter tone, “If you ever need to talk it over a sake bottle with someone, I’m there! Bring up the sake!”

“Naruto!” Iruka protested loudly, back to his usual self, “You’re not of drinking age!”

The young man laughed sheepishly. He was about to say something when they both heard Iruka’s stomach rumble loudly, its growl resounding in the silent kitchen. There was a short uneasy silence, then Naruto burst out laughing, obviously highly amused.

“I guess I’ll be the one treating you to ramen today, Iruka-sensei!”

--

On Monday afternoon, when Iruka braced himself and finally entered the mission room to do his shift at the mission desk, he felt like entering in a trap. The whole place radiated an aura of doom the chuunin was not quite fond of.

Okay, it downright scared him.

Somehow, the mission room was less crowded than it used to be the previous week, a few days after the rumor started spreading itself through the village, but it was still crowded enough to be not natural either. It seemed people still hadn’t lost of their interest for him, Iruka thought with disappointment. Trying not to think too much about it, he headed for his assigned desk as if he was not noticing more than half of the room was openly staring at him, some not even bothering to be subtle about it. As he walked through the crowded room, Iruka caught sight of the two biggest gossip whores of the whole village, Anko and Awaki, and he suddenly felt more anxious than embarrassed. The presence of those two gossip addicts ganged up together was already a bad omen for anyone who crossed their path on normal days, having them watching him avidly like that in such a situation was downright unnerving. In the end, it was just a rumor, he told himself for at least the hundredth time since the beginning of the weekend three days ago. They would grow tired of him. Yes, they would grow tired of him pretty soon...

And it was not as if it could get worse than it already was.

The academy teacher did as if he hadn’t noticed all those people stealing glances more or less subtly at him and calmly installed himself at the mission desk among the other chuunins in duty, many of them also stealing glances at him. During the whole evening, he did his best to remain calm, collected and to ignore all those stares and amused murmurs. After all, he couldn’t care less about what they could think about him. Or so he tried to convince himself. But somehow, he couln’t help but feel humiliated and a bit hurt by all that hungry and foul-mouthed attention he was given lately, especially now that he knew what it was about. His coworkers at the academy, some of his students’ parents, random strangers... Everybody seemed to have such an unhealthy interest for him...! It was already putting him on the edge and it was only Monday evening.

At some point, he started hearing two voices getting louder – a little too loud for trained ninjas. The two women were still whispering, but he could make out most of their discussion.

“... a shame really, that such a man could even imagine he had a chance with him...”

“Hatake Kakashi!”

“Yeah. A nobody like him… He’s not even mildly attractive.”

“Do you think he has confessed yet?”

“I heard he haven’t.”

“So Kakashi-san doesn’t know...?”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s an elite jounin; there’s not a chance in hell he doesn’t know, everyone’s talking about it in town.”

“Poor him... It must be pretty humiliating. Everybody knows.”

“I wonder what he’s waiting for to confront the chuunin and turn him down before he gets his hopes up...”

Iruka did his best not to show he had heard them as he approved some C-ranked missions. He was not stupid; they were trying to get a reaction out of him, some first-hand juicy information they could share with other gossip addicts. And the chuunin was determined not to give in and let them have the little show they were looking for. So he remained emotionless, to everyone’s all too obvious disappointment. And time passed by. Atrociously slowly.

Around 6 o’clock, Iruka realized there was something wrong going on when the mission room suddenly turned suspiciously silent. Somehow, his 6th sense told him that it was not a good sing for him... Out of reflex, before his brain could even warn him he should know better, he looked up and almost had an heart-attack.

Eight feet in front of him stood Hatake Kakashi, the one and only.

For a moment, Iruka’s brain froze, too shocked to allow intelligent thoughts to process, as his heart raced madly in his chest. When the jounin started making his way toward him, he snapped out of it and tried to regain some composure. He had to calm down, to act normally... After all, he had no reason to panic. HE was the one in control there. HE knew about the rumor and about Kakashi’s feelings. That made of him the one in control in the place - since Kakashi-sensei didn’t know Iruka had found out he loved him and hadn’t heard about the rumor.

... Or had he?

No! Don’t go that way! Iruka desperately thought, starting to feel nauseous at the mere possibility that the Copy nin might have heard the rumor and come to confess his feelings for him. But he was stupid, really; there was no way Kakashi-sensei, who usually showed sings of shyness around him, would confess in such a crowded place. That thought was a huge relief for the academy teacher: at least for now, he was safe. Well, as safe as one can be caught with an eccentric jounin having a crush for him in a room full of Konoha’s finest gossip machines.

All too soon, the Sharigan user was standing in front of him, adoring his trademark bored expression on the little exposed part of his face. Trying his best to look collected and natural, Iruka greeted him.

“Good afternoon, Kakashi-sensei.”

“Yo,” the silver-haired man simply answered, sounding nonchalant, but Iruka knew better. Then there was a long silence between them, the jounin staring at the ceiling with a mildly thoughtful expression. Iruka could feel the tension rising in the mission room, the silent little crowd of gossipers watching hungrily for every single little movement or sound they would make, devouring them with their eyes. All this unhealthy attention made Iruka somewhat nervous - and it also pissed him off; weren’t they supposed to be ninjas? How the heck was that supposed to be subtle? Where has their stealth gone? Just how stupid were they anyway? There was no way in HELL Kakashi-sensei hadn’t noticed them by now...! Bunch of jerks!

“Say, Iruka-sensei...” the elite jounin finally spoke up, his eye still staring a bit blankly at the ceiling, “...you seem to have gotten quite popular lately.”

There was suddenly a rustle in the mission room: people started speaking together, nins in duty at the mission desk started fuming through mission reports busily while some other suddenly got very interested in the nearest plant. Iruka inwardly smirked at their staggering and shameful lack of professionalism.

“Indeed, I have,” the brown-haired man answered with irony, a hint of amusement in his voice. Somehow, the whole situation seemed so ridiculous that it made him feel a bit more comfortable.

“Your fanclub?” the jounin asked on the same bored voice.

“I wish,” the chuunin replied on a tone that said everything. “Do you have a report for me, Kakashi-sensei?”

The silver-haired man gave him a very neat looking mission report - Obviously, he wanted to make up for the last one. As Iruka was trying to concentrate to verify it, Kakashi gave the room a circular nonchalant glance.

“... Are they bothering you?” he finally asked on the same unconcerned voice. It obviously did not fool anyone, as Iruka felt the crowd tense up.

“Oh, no. I’m used to worse than that - I teach pre-genins, after all,” he answered casually. Note to self: treat Naruto to ramen tomorrow for the good reply line.

“I see. Really, I’m surprised to see so many people here - I’d never thought Konoha’s ninja were so bored they’d spend their evening in the mission room. I guess the Hokage would find it quite odd.”

The crowd suddenly froze at the Copy nin’s not so subtle threat. Of course, everybody fully knew the Hokage would be downright pissed to know her soldiers were slaking around - and in the mission room no less. That would totally enrage her. And nobody in their right mind wanted to deal with an enraged Hokage - especially when she was pissed at you. As for Iruka, he knew for sure that if the Hokage learned that anyone had jeopardized what she thought were Iruka’s ‘chances’ with Hatake Kakashi, she would personally make that person suffer, given how she seemed to want to match them together. But the chuunin decided not to voice that part out.

Giving one last look at the jounin’s report, Iruka looked up. “Everything seems to be in order. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Hn,” the silver-haired man said unintelligibly. “G’night, sensei.”

The elite jounin then turned around and nonchalantly left the mission room. Iruka sighed inwardly, relieved. Well... It went rather well. He had been stupid, really, to fear so much talking to the Copy nin again. Their short and light discussion allowed Iruka to reevaluate the situation he was in. The way he had stood up for him... Obviously, Kakashi-sensei was a nice and comprehensive man. And quite tactful, too. This... well, maybe it wasn’t such an ordeal that Kakashi-sensei loved him. It was not that he loved him back or anything! He just realized he had overreacted a bit. All things considered, it was not the end of the world. And if the jounin was to... confess his feelings for him, he could just tell him the truth. That he was a bit at a loss and that, until he sorted out all the mess in his head, he was not interested. It was not complicated; it was a wonder why he fretted so much over it.

... Still, he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have to confront the man any time soon.

Now that the Copy nin was gone, the mission room seemed to be a lot quieter. It felt like the tension in the air had fallen: obviously, the crowd had seen what it had come for in the first place. But now that Kakashi-sensei was gone and that nothing interesting or possibly revealing happened, they were disappointed and it showed. Iruka fought back the urge to smirk at the thought, too happy of the way things had turned out. For now at least, they wouldn’t spread new rumors about him...

The academy teacher was also under the impression there would be much less ninjas hanging around in the mission room in the following days during his shift. Sure enough, soon after Kakashi-sensei had left the room, people started leaving subtly the mission room one by one. And for that, he could not help but feel grateful for Kakashi-sensei’s tactful intervention. That had been very thoughtful of him - he had to remember to thank him the next time they met... He owned him one.

Maybe one day, who knows, they would be able to laugh it over together.

...Nah.


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To be continued.