Bathhouse revelations

Chapter 6

Iruka felt a peach in his hand and, deciding it was still too hard, tried another one. The sun-bathed fruit market was crowded and lively on that beautiful Saturday morning, people busying themselves around the stalls, trying to pick up the best goods at the lowest price. The brown-haired chuunin didn’t like to shop in such a maze, but he had gotten used to it a long time ago. Actually, the academy teacher was grateful for the fruit market’s agitation, because it was about the only public area where he wasn’t assailed by cold or condescending stares and followed by murmurs. At the fruit market on Saturday mornings, he was once again just a nameless face in the mass of anonymous nins busying themselves around the stalls.

Iruka would have never thought that thought would one day reassure him.

A bit sleepily, Iruka selected a few peaches he judged riped enough and paid the merchant. If it had not been for his empty fridge, he would have rather stayed home... His musings had kept him awake longer than he should have for the past two days and now that it was the week-end, Iruka only longed for his bed. Unfortunately, a lot of things needed his urgent attention - his empty fridge, the enormous pile of dirty clothes on his bedroom floor that menaced to invade the bathroom floor, his dirty dishes and tons of homework and exams that needed to be grated for Monday. At that thought, Iruka inwardly groaned. It was a real pain to have all those to correct even when his dismissal was eminent. And being the nice, loyal and hard-working teacher he was, he would work like mad during the whole week-end to correct all those exams and homework in time. And he’d probably get fired just afterward, Iruka thought bitterly. That was just his usual luck.

For a matter of fact, he was a bit surprised he hadn’t been fired yet. Anyhow, he knew it was only a matter of time before he was forced to leave the academy. They probably just hadn’t found his substitute yet. After all, your average chuunin usually didn’t have what it took to teach pre-genins – it was a more demanding task than what people generally thought. That thought made the chuunin smirk – he was not irreplaceable, like the Principal had said, but it looked like he wasn’t that easy to replace in the end.

Hurrying out of the crowd around the fruit market, Iruka made his way to the fish stalls, wondering what he’d have for diner. He could always cook roasted fish - it would be nice with some of the vegetables he had previously bought and white rice. Which reminded him he also needed to buy more rice because he was running out of it - he needed to remember to go to the department store after he was done here to buy some.

Fortunately for the chuunin, the fish stall was a lot less crowded than the fruit market - it was understandable, since the fish sales took place on Sunday mornings. But Iruka couldn’t care less to come back on Sunday to pay 20 cents less for a salmon steak.

As he walked around the stalls, looking for his future diner, the chuunin heard two middle-aged women chatting a few feet away from him. He did not pay attention to what they were saying, but their words reached his ears anyway. As he was shopping, he distantly overheard them talking about the son’s of one of their friends, who, shamefully enough, had gone through the chuunin exams four times and had still not managed to get promoted. Of course, they then started to deplore the sloppiness of their friend’s household on the same disapproving tone. Iruka thought ironically he was glad he didn’t have friends like those. He bet they’d just turn around and beam at their so-called friend if she was to run into them right then.

As he was wondering if he felt more like eating salmon or tuna, Iruka heard them say his name. The chuunin remained emotionless as he picked up both fishes, deciding in the end that he could always have fish tomorrow as well. He didn’t want to hear what they could possibly say about him. Seriously, he didn’t. He was tired already of all those stories about him and didn’t want to know what new piece of information was circulating about him through the village. But somehow the brown-haired man found himself listening to what they were saying as the two women continued gossiping, unaware of his presence.

“... together, you say?” said the first woman curiously with her high-pitched voice.

“So I heard; they were eating at the restaurant two days ago. A fancy one, too.” Sure, you don’t get fancier than the Ichiraku ramen stand, Iruka snarled inwardly.

“You think it was date?” her friend asked briskly.

“I don’t think so. I heard the jounin walked in by error - a friend had brought him there for dinner and his friend ended up sitting at the same table as Iruka.”

“And so Kakashi-sama ended up eating with the chuunin?”

“Seems like it.”

“How tiresome, now I bet the chuunin’s gonna get his hopes up.”

Iruka sighed - some people in his village had far too much free time on their hands. To spy on them at the ramen bar and then spread the news of their “date” through Konoha like that... But the chuunin was even more surprised at how far-fetched those stories sometimes ended up to be after they had gone through the village’s gossip channel. It was truly frustrating to hear people talk about him like they personally knew him when there was barely any truth left in what they said - if there was some traces of truth to begin with, of course.

Days ago, such a situation would have made him angry and he would have left the fish market like he hadn’t heard the gossipers, not wanting to show that what they could come up with about it affected him, although it clearly did. But somehow it didn’t affect him as much as it used to. Maybe he got accustomed to be the main protagonist of the most popular rumor in town. Or maybe he just couln’t bring himself to care anymore.

“But there’s more; I heard that chuunin, that Iruka,” she said on a disgusted tone, “kept on treating him. Buying him sake.”

“Oh! You think he was trying to get him drunk to...?”

“Most definitely,” the woman whispered very fast, as if it made the whole thing easier to say, “There’s no other way he’d be able to have the Copy nin in his bed and he knows it.”

“But did he...?”

“Thank God no; the jounin had enough common sense to leave before the chuunin got him tipsy, or so I heard.”

“I bet he was pretty upset his little plan had gone wrong,” the second woman snorted.

Somehow, Iruka felt somewhat daring that day.

“Indeed, I was quite upset,” he said off-handily to the two women, who turned around so fast Iruka almost feared their neck would give out. When they saw him, they froze and their faces blanched in the funniest way. “When I saw I couldn’t get him drunk, I tried to knock him off. Unfortunately, Kakashi-sensei didn’t seem to want to let me get a good hit at his head with the baseball bat, so I had to run after him through the whole village. I wasn’t able to catch him, but I managed to get close enough to take off his pants while he escaped. I kept them as a trophy - I’m thinking about putting them on my living room wall. What do you think?”

The women turned so pale their faces were starting to take an unhealthy grey color that made them look like they would die on the spot - from shock or embarrassment, Iruka couldn’t quite tell. Then they suddenly turned around and left promptly the fish market, walking so stiffly one could not help but notice them and stare. The chuunin laughed under his breath as he happily watched the gossipers positively running away from him, suddenly seemed highly interested by the ground under their feet. Somehow, Iruka couldn’t help but feel strangely happy with himself. This was definitely worth at least three sessions with a therapist, he decided with a smile. God, it had been fun! The chuunin mildly wondered why he hadn’t tried something like that before. At any rate, he was definitely going to do it again if the occasion presented itself, he decided.

Buying his tuna and salmon steaks, Iruka shifted his bags in his hands to get a better hold of them and headed for the department store to buy some rice before going back home to all the cleaning and grading that awaited him. But even that thought couldn’t quite depress him him, his little ‘discussion’ with the two strangers compensating largely for it.

As he was walking down the street to the store, Iruka caught sight of a familiar bright orange jacket on a nearby busy street. Smiling, he decided to stop and say hello to his favorite blond tornado before finishing his errands and going home - it was not like the homework and exams he had to correct would miss him anyway. But as he approached the blond-haired teenager, Iruka couldn’t help but notice that many people on the street were shooting curious stares at the said orange jumper. As he finally had a clear sight of the street, he understood why.

In the middle of the street stood Team 7, the three teenagers pulling with difficulty at Hatake Kakashi’s arms, trying to drag their hesitant teacher and team leader in a very childish way into a nearby store. All around them stood a little crowd of people who stared at the surrealist scene with mildly surprised interest.

“Come on, Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto huffed, giving the jounin’s arm a powerful tug that, combined to his team mates’ efforts, hauled the reluctant man a few inches forward.

“But I don’t-”

“Cut it out already!” Sakura hissed angrily, panting slightly. “You’re not a child anymore!”

“What are you doing?” Iruka interrupted them flatly, staring at the small group. The jounin and his students froze at once at the sight of the brown-haired man standing in front of them, a strange guilty look appearing on their surprised faces - the kind of look children gave their parents when they were caught with a hand in the cookie jar. In a matter of seconds, the three teens stopped to drag the obviously reluctant Copy nin and were facing their ex-teacher with broad, obviously fake smiles - except for Sasuke, who of course did NOT smile in public. The jounin, on the other hand, looked positively embarrassed, the only part of his face peaking out of his mask being as red as a tomato. Iruka was under the impression the silver-haired man wished the ground could swallow him right then, if the way he was staring at the street under his feet was any indication. As he gave a closer look, the brown-haired man noticed that the three chuunins still hadn’t completely let go of the jounin’s wrists, which probably explained why he hadn’t fled by now.

“I-Iruka-sensei!”

“Sensei! How nice to see you here!” the pink-haired teenager greeted the academy teacher awfully sweetly.

...yeah, more like awfully suspiciously, the chuunin thought skeptically.

“We, hum, were just doing some shopping with Kakashi-sensei,” she added on a more normal tone, but she kept on smiling at him a bit too brightly for Iruka’s taste. “He needs to wear something else than his old uniform if he ever wants to find himself a lover one of these days, don’t you think?”

From behind his students, Kakashi looked like he wanted to die.

Staring at Sakura and Naruto’s apparently innocent smiles, Iruka was suddenly hit by an idea.

They knew.

Team seven knew for the sensei’s feelings and was trying to match them up together. Now that he thought about it, it made so much sense that Iruka didn’t understand why he hadn’t thought about it. Naruto’s kind words... The supposedly unplanned meeting at the ramen stand, the way Naruto and Sasuke kept on arguing together... And now this. Oh, those little...!

But instead of showing his irritation, Iruka smiled at them. He didn’t know why, but he felt somewhat rebellious that day. Oh, yes, that was the word. Rebellious.

“Oh, but I do think his uniform suits him well too,” Iruka said casually, returning his ex-students’ innocent smile. The academy teacher couldn’t have hoped for a more amusing reaction; his three ex-students stared at him with shocked expressions, gaping wide-eyed at him like he just have announced them he was going to play in a porn movie. But Kakashi-sensei’s reaction was even more interesting: the jounin openly stared at him with wide eyes, his face turning into an interesting shade of puce.

“I’ll get going now, see you later,” he said warmly to the dumbfounded group before turning around and walking away. He knew there was no point waiting for an answer; obviously, they were too stunned to be able to answer back. Iruka had to suppress giggles of mirth at the thought as he walked away, feeling so amused with the reaction he got out of Tean seven and their teacher that his cheeks hurt from smiling.

But more than anything else, Iruka was proud to have ruined their little plan somehow. That’d teach them to want to play matchmakers! What were they thinking anyway? That he’d fall for Kakashi if they got him into nice clothes? Or if they met often enough at the Ichiraku ramen bar? Ha! What a joke!

Yeah, he knew his reasoning didn’t make sense. It didn’t even make sense to him. How was he supposed to have ruined their plan when he just openly complimented – and some would even say flirted with the Copy nin? But he couldn’t care less. Their reaction was worth it anyway, and somehow nothing else truly mattered for the chuunin at the moment. As a matter of fact, the fact that he just flirted like that with Kakashi-sensei didn’t even upset him. He wasn’t worried about what the Sharigan user would think of it, since what he had told him was not clearly an hit-on line. And he couldn’t care less about the stories people would come up about it – at least, it’d give them something to talk about and, hopefully, they wouldn’t try to invent something weird about him in the following days. Like that he had raped Kakashi-sensei with a baseball bat or something. That thought made him snort with amusement.

On the whole, it was turning out to be a very nice day indeed.

Smiling to himself, the academy teacher made his way to his apartment, not minding the stares that still followed him as he walked through Konoha’s busy streets. It was only when he arrived home that it hit him.

He had forgotten to buy white rice.

--

“... a bloody mess, I’m telling you,” a purple-haired woman sighed. She looked overly miserable.

“I bet you’re glad to be back. How long have you guys been away?”

“Only 5 days.”

“’Felt like months to me. I haven’t slept in days...” he friend called back from behind her in an hollow voice.

“So, hum, you know...” the kunoichi said more quietly, eying the mission desk curiously. “Anything new while we were away?”

“That’s it? You’ve just returned and the first thing you do is to ask what part of your favourite gossip soap opera you’ve missed!” her colleague said, indignant.

“I wasn’t-”

“Shhhht!” someone called from beside them, giving them a slightly panicked look. “You wouldn’t want him to hear you; he’s in a terrible mood today.”

And indeed, if they would have given more attention to their surroundings, they would have noticed how tense and heavy the air in the mission room was. In fact, a foul aura seemed to radiate from the mission desk, or more accurately from Umino Iruka, a brown-haired chuunin who was usually polite and collected but who literally seemed about to bite someone’s arm off that day. Which probably explained why nins waiting to hand in their mission report to him looked positively frightened at the prospect of facing the furious and possibly dangerous chuunin.

And they were right to fear the man’s anger because he’d been looking forward to snapping at someone for several hours now and if one of those jerks dared to do something slightly inappropriate or to give him a less than flawless mission report, they wouldn’t know what had hit them. Unfortunately, those bloody morons were too bright to try anything funny when he was in this mood. Damn sissies...!

Approving yet another perfect mission report, Iruka inwardly growled. He had had a nightmare of a day. Correcting all the homework and exams had taken him most of the weekend, leaving him positively exhausted and with a serious case of headache. Barely managing to sleep a few hours during the week end, he arrived at the academy to discover one of his colleague was sick and that, since there was a shortage of available ninja and that nobody else had what it took to take care of the problem, he was supposed to teach both his and his colleague’s classes until they found an appropriate substitute. Which proved to be a real nightmare, since his colleague’s students were one year younger than his and were quite excited by their teacher’s absence and by their temporary relocation into Iruka’s classroom.

In what he had thought was a good attempt to deal with both classes, Iruka had hastily improvised a new plan for the day and had forced his very crowded classroom to go through a revision of the basics. Which turned out to be a very bad idea, since his students couldn’t care less about revising such old theory and instead started chatting and playing among themselves. As for the younger students he had to take care of, when they saw the older kids doing racket in the class, they got even more turbulent and the whole classroom soon found itself out of the academy teacher’s control.

Iruka forcefully tried to discipline them, but as he soon found out, his colleague’s students were a LOT less well-disciplined than his and obviously couldn’t care less to be given orders by someone who was not their teacher – Iruka even wondered if they actually took their teacher’s orders to start with. One little hellion even told him when he tried to get her to stop hanging herself from the fan on the ceiling that he was just a gay moron and that her father told her not to listen to anything he’d say while trying to kick his head with her tiny feet. Seeing how turbulent the other class was, Iruka’s students also started to challenge their teacher’s authority and ended up doing even more racket than their young classmates. Ink bottles flew in the air, children jumped on their desks and ran around the classroom after each other, laughing.

It was a real mess.

After a few hours yelling and several attempts to get the class to behave, Iruka gave up trying to force them going through a theoric revision and instead decided to take them out on the field for practical exercises. He had thought, in his sleep-deprived and aching head, that giving them the occasion to stretch their legs a bit would tame them a bit. Which proved to be even a worse idea than his first one. He spent most of the day running after small ninja wannabes who’s only objective seemed to be to make his life a real hell. How a bunch of 6 and 7 year old managed to uproot a small tree, put fire to a nearby bush, steal ink bottles and smash them onto the Academy walls, torture and try to drown an innocent stray cat, start a food fight and break two windows in less than 20 minutes, it was still a mystery to the brown-haired man.

Somehow, Iruka was under the impression someone was trying to convince him to resign.

When the bell announcing the end of the day rang, the little hellions hurried happily to the Academy gates, to Iruka’s utter relief. The chuunin hurried to stop the fire from spreading to the rest of the Academy grounds and to patch up the poor passing by stray, getting a couple of scratches from the wet scared cat on the way, his head throbbing painfully. By the time he was done with the cat, he was almost late for his mission room duties and he had to run all the way to the mission room, his head aching so bad he felt like it would split in two with every step he took and his empty stomach growling loudly and painfully as he hadn’t had the time to eat lunch during lunch break, too busy trying to prevent about 60 little hellions to do more damage than they already had. By the time he arrived at the mission room, he was in such a bad mood that people actually drew aside when they saw him approaching.

Approving yet another mission report ferociously, Iruka growled inwardly. He was tired, he was hungry, his head felt like it’s been crushed in a vice for hours and he wanted nothing but to break someone’s jaw. And he had a pretty good idea whose jaw it could be... Because he was under the impression that they wouldn’t be able to find a substitute for his sick colleague tomorrow morning... Or in fact for the rest of the week, lucky as he was. The thought made him positively glow with fury and he almost hammered the red approving stamp on the mission report the frightened-looking jounin in front of him had handed him fearfully. Since when were they short-staffed anyway? It wasn’t even a busy week at the mission room! Any jounin could have taken care of those brats, any! But nooooooo, they had to have him doing it... Since of course, he was the most suited to do it!

He snatched the nearest mission report and started reading it hastily, getting even moodier at his own chain of thoughts. To his surprise, the nin in front of him actually spoke up his name. Jerking his head up angrily, ready to strike at whoever had been stupid enough to want a word with him, Iruka was surprised to find himself face to face with a masked Hatake Kakashi, who was watching him a bit warily. The chuunin inwardly growled. As if his day hadn’t been bad enough already! He really needed to have a chat with the Sharigan user, really!

“What can I do for you, Hatake-san?” the chuunin asked in a slow, dangerous voice, ready to bite. To the Copy nin’s merit, the man didn’t even flinch at his poisonous tone, although the academy teacher saw several other nins backing away slowly from him.

“I merely wondered...,” the jounin started off slowly, eying him warily, “Hum, you seem to be a bit moody today... Had a bad day?”

“Really, I’m stunned by your deduction skills,” Iruka snarled at the older man, punching his mission report with the approving stamp so hard that the mission desk actually shook.

“I heard the Academy’s short-staffed...”

“It appears so. Now, if you don’t have anything better to do, Hatake-san,” the brown-haired man said dangerously, “please get out of the way, you’re blocking the mission desk.”

As courageous as he was, the jounin seemed clever enough to understand it was time for him to take his leave. He merely nodded good-bye to Iruka and went away and funnily enough, nobody seemed in a hurry to take his place and hand in their mission report anymore.

The rest of his shift passed atrociously slowly, his head pounding painfully during all the evening. By the time his duties were finally over, his head hurt so much that he didn’t even walk hone, he instead used a teleportation justu and appeared in a puff of smoke in his moonlight-bathed kitchen. Exhausted, he ignored his stomach’s protests, swallowed two painkiller dry and went straight to bed, hoping that his dreams would not be filled of filthy little pre-genins trying to set fire to a stray cat.


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To be continued.