[Breaking the Pattern] Chapter 6
Iruka’s back hit the tree hard. He let himself fall to his knees and rolled out of the way of the incoming kunai. His clothes were damp with sweat. Nothing new. He was covered in dirt, with twigs and leaves stuck in his hair and to his shoes. Also, not new. He was bruised, but not bleeding. That was new.
The air tingled. Iruka had yet to find words for this sensation. He was used to scenting blood on the air, as most ninja were. This was similar, an almost preternatural sense of… something, but instead of copper the scent of pine pricked his nose, sending a signal to his muscles even before the chakra had finished gathering. He was halfway across the clearing before Kakashi even unleashed the jutsu, the thin bursts of water splashing off the trees behind him.
At least he was getting something out of the training besides a good workout. Was this what Kakashi felt like when he used his Sharingan? Obviously, with Kakashi it would be more pronounced, more than just a vague whisper of unseen energy, but to Iruka it felt like he’d taken a huge step forward. He felt connected.
There was that pine scent again, just before the tree line blurred and Kakashi appeared in front of him. Katana met katana, their blades pressed together for a brief moment before Iruka jumped away. He knew his strengths, and going hand-to-hand against Kakashi was not one of them. A smoke bomb covered his escape, as well as concealing the flash of gestures that would have given away his next move.
Iruka kept his eyes focused on the cloud of smoke as his foot landed on a branch. He waited long enough to watch Kakashi leap clear of the black smoke before he jumped backwards. Kakashi landed on the same branch Iruka had just vacated, exactly as predicted. His lungs were filled with the scent of pine.
One second, Kakashi was tensing to jump after Iruka, weapon in hand, about to land the mock-fatal hit that would end today’s training. Branches moved before he could, wrapping around his feet, his wrists, and his waist, then twining around the caught limbs until Kakashi was effectively immobile.
Iruka crouched opposite Kakashi, and waited.
“Cute trick.” Kakashi smiled, though Iruka could only tell by the way the skin around his visible eye relaxed and the color of his iris lightened. The branches receded on their own. “Your win, today.”
Iruka frowned. “But you got out of it. You could have continued attacking me.”
Kakashi brushed off his sleeves and started down the tree trunk like it was one of the open streets of Konoha. “Correct, but if you were fighting someone other than me, you’d have bought yourself time to finish them off or run to safety, depending on your preference.”
“But-”
“Do you want to keep going?” Kakashi was still smiling.
Iruka glanced up at the darkening sky and mentally calculated how far they’d wandered from the village. He still had two more questions to write for the test tomorrow, and he’d offered to cover for Jouma in the early morning shift at the Mission Room.
“No, not really.”
“Good. Neither do I.”
It didn’t take long to gather their weapons. After the first few fights, Iruka had given up on using thrown weapons as anything more than an occasional distraction, relying instead on his increasingly growing arsenal of jutsu. Like the trick with the ensnaring branches, Iruka found himself favoring jutsu that held, distracted, or misdirected enemies. He had scrolls worth of reading material sitting in his apartment that he hadn’t yet found time to go through, and most of them had been collecting a large amount of dust until Iruka had unearthed them. Not surprising, really, considering the fondness most ninja had for jutsu that killed or maimed, often in spectacular or flashy ways.
That just made things easier for Iruka. The smaller jutsu were often over-looked, and thus unexpected, sometimes even unheard of. Smaller jutsu also used less chakra, thus allowing Iruka to use more jutsu with his limited resources, or combine jutsu into unique effects. They ought to be teaching this stuff in the Academy. Iruka had a meeting with Tsunade at the end of the week to discuss just that.
“You’ve come a long way.”
Iruka jumped slightly. He’d almost forgotten that Kakashi was with him. A faint smile spread over his face. “Thanks.”
Kakashi passed him on the trail. “I think next week we’ll start practicing on top of the mountain.”
Iruka froze. But that meant…
“There aren’t any trees up there. You’re gonna need some new tricks.”
Kakashi raised one hand in a brief, backwards wave before disappearing off into the trees.
The mountain. There was nothing on the mountain, just rocks, maybe a few twigs worth of scrub. One word came to mind.
“Fuck.”
“Hey.”
The familiar voice made Iruka pause. He smiled without thinking. “Yukio.” How long had it been since the sound of someone’s voice had made his day instantly better? With Maki… well, it’d been a while.
Yukio smiled brightly as he joined Iruka’s side, his hand briefly lighting on Iruka’s lower back before flitting away.
Iruka’s day just got a lot better.
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but rough day with the kids?” Yukio gestured to Iruka’s clothing.
Too bad there wasn’t a jutsu to mend ripped and dirty clothing. Iruka blushed and scratched some of the dirt off his clothing. “No, the kids were merciful today, for a change. I was actually training…” He belatedly realized the types of questions that statement opened up. He forced his smile wider, added a hint of self-deprecation. “…trying to get back in shape.”
Yukio’s gaze trailed over Iruka again. “I like your current shape.”
He didn’t have to fake the darkening of his blush. “T-thanks.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve eaten yet?”
“No, not yet.” He’d meant to grab something before meeting Kakashi, but then one of his students had caught him after class. “I don’t suppose that was an invitation?”
“You caught me. Any preference? I hear the Ichiraku’s pretty popular.”
It took a lot to keep a sudden frown from showing on his face. Ichiraku was bad. Ichiraku meant people who knew him, who knew his… situation. As much as he knew he could take care of himself, he knew Genma and the others wouldn’t see it that way. They’d say it was too soon, that he was taking things to fast.
It was dinner. The second date, sort of, and they hadn’t even held hands. How bad could it be?
“I’m actually not that fond of ramen,” he lied with a smile. “How about Sunomi’s? It’s in the south quadrant.” And about as far as they could get from Iruka’s normal hang-outs as they could get without being too suspicious about it.
“Sounds great.”
Yukio’s hand rested on Iruka’s lower back and he forgot about what his friends would say.
The door slammed against the wall far louder than Iruka would have liked. He hoped his neighbor Hachiouji was out tonight. Yukio kicked the door shut behind them before pushing Iruka against it, his hands quickly busying themselves with untucking Iruka’s shirt. He kissed back, one arm around Yukio’s shoulders, the other reaching down blindly to fumble with the lock.
As they stumbled towards the bedroom, practically inhaling each other’s tongues, Iruka briefly considered that this might be a bad idea. Maybe. But good idea or not, right now, he wanted it, and Yukio’s hands and mouth were doing a very thorough job of convincing him that this was a good idea.
They left a trail of clothing behind them. Iruka couldn’t stop smiling.
Kakashi sat on the rooftop and waited, both eyes uncovered. He wasn’t being perverted, at least not intentionally. He hadn’t come here to spy. Well, in a way, he had, but not like this. He’d come by to check on Iruka, which he had. Iruka was at home, and in bed, which he’d kind of expected at this late an hour. What he hadn’t expected was that Iruka wouldn’t be alone.
There was no reason, really, for him to be here. Surreptitiously, he’d come to make sure Iruka hadn’t been injured during their training early, like he did every week after training. But he already knew exactly how many of his punches and kicks had contacted, and his sword had sliced nothing but clothing. He knew that, and yet he came anyways. Because, although he would never admit it, not even under Ibiki’s harshest torture, he worried. Just a little. Which was completely understandable, considering the difference in the level of their abilities, and it was entirely possible that Kakashi could have hurt Iruka accidentally without even being aware of it.
Except he hadn’t, because as much as Kakashi was trained to kill, he was trained to kill effectively with full consciousness. He didn’t use his power, any of it, absentmindedly. He didn’t hurt people unintentionally. Which meant Iruka was fine, and Kakashi’s initial assessment of Iruka’s injuries – just a few bruises – was accurate, and there was absolutely no reason for him to be here.
And yet he was. Here. Now. Watching.
He should leave. The main event was obviously over. Just two people lying in bed. Together. Very close together. The energy levels in the room left no mistake about what had happened, and not very long ago. If he’d been a few minutes earlier….
What would he have done? Would he have watched Iruka being taken? Would he have barged in and demanded to know just who dared touch the chuunin sensei? He couldn’t tell who was in there now. Not someone he was familiar with, which meant it could be anyone who’d made jounin after him or any of the lower ranks. In other words, at least half the village. But it was a ninja, no doubting that, and possibly a very skilled one.
The childish part of him considered telling Genma. That would put an end to this budding relationship. It hadn’t even been two months since Iruka’s break-up with Makitomo, so surely the sensei needed more time…. But telling Genma meant telling how he’d come across such information and he wasn’t quite certain that Genma would take too kindly to Kakashi’s spying, well intentioned or otherwise.
The man in Iruka’s bed sat up slightly. Iruka continued sleeping, undisturbed. The man’s head turned and he stared, through the wall, directly at where Kakashi sat. Kakashi waited. Seconds passed and then the man shifted, lying back down next to Iruka with what Kakashi could only imagine was a possessive embrace.
That’s what Kakashi would do. Well, that and go kill the bastard that was spying on his Iruka. But Iruka wasn’t his and he was the one intruding.
So much for being inconspicuous.
A quick, backwards jump took him to the next building. He stared towards Iruka’s apartment one last time before turning and heading home. He had better things to do that chase after chuunin schoolteachers, particularly ones that were already attached.
