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Two Ways to Comfort a Shinobi	By : Polymer Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 3328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I didn’t create Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto did. The anime and manga are owned and licensed by Shonen Jump. I make no money for the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Iruka knew what it was like to be lonely. For most of his life, he had dodged in and out of such feelings and that of feeling loved and accepted. He knew that Naruto was facing the same thing he was exactly. A young boy on his own in the world scared and frustrated.
The academy instructor sorted his papers carefully, and then slipped them into his bag, sure, that he could grade most of them by the end of the night. However, he was not sure about the young genin that was just outside.
Naruto even after all this time was still a rank below the Chunin. Only recently back from a trip with his master Jiraya, he was just getting used to being back in Konoha. So the moment he received the word, he was packing his papers away and heading towards the place he knew Naruto was most likely to arrive; Ichiraku’s ramen.
Arriving there he saw Naruto screech to a stop once he called out, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
“Iruka sensei!” cried the blonde-haired person. Iruka’s eyes widened taking in just how tall his former student had grown. Bright blonde hair was a slight touch longer and those blue eyes blinked at him out of a more mature but still handsome young face. Naruto had no idea how handsome or beautiful he was to the members of either sex.
“Naruto! Long time no see!” Iruka cheerfully called out, holding his arms out. Sure enough he felt the impact once Naruto glomped him and almost knocked him over. Strong arms wrapped around Iruka’s neck as Naruto cling tightly.
The chunin felt his heart thumping a mile a minute to hold the handsome blonde teen so close again. Iruka couldn’t’ resist pressing a kiss to the top of the blonde-haired person’s blonde spiky mass of hair. Naruto curled into him rocking back and forth with a happy giggle that was deeper than the academy instructor remembered was.
“Mmm Iruka sensei, you smell the same,’ Naruto hummed in pleasure, enjoying the hug. He always loved the embraces his former sensei gave him. The way he smelled of that cologne and aftershave.
“Gee thanks. And look at you, all grown up,” Iruka chuckled, holding him out at arm’s length with both hands clasped behind Naruto’s back.
“Hee hee, Iruka sensei, now I can look you in the face almost,” Naruto joked, closing his eyes and grinning in that way Iruka secretly loved. A moment later the grin faded and Iruka felt the blonde flinch in his arms.
“What’s wrong?” asked Iruka.
“Aww Iruka sensei, it’s just that everyone’s a chunin or jonin, and I’m a genin!” Naruto complained, sticking out his lower lip cutely in a pout that melted Iruka’s heart.

Hating to see the blonde-haired person like this, Iruka gave him another warm close hug. Into Naruto’s ear he said, “Why don’t we get some Ramen. My treat.”

**

Once behind the counter, Naruto’s mood brightened a bit. Side by side, they sat like those many years ago when Naruto announced his intention to be Hokage. Iruka wanted to keep his arms around the jinchuriki for much longer, but did not want to embarrass Naruto. Therefore, he settled for watching the blonde dig into a bowl of ramen.
Just the way Naruto chewed and slurped those noodles as something the teacher could watch for hours. If only he could find Naruto someone else so he wouldn’t be lonely in other ways. A parent could only do so much for his protégée. Naruto was a younger brother to him all these years.
He could recall himself at a similar age, standing by the memorial trying hard not to cry.
Those stinging tears that he refused to shed. Mortified feelings at the sound of footsteps behind him. Oh no, who was going to pity him? In an instant, he smelled tobacco and knew it was him. One he regarded as a grandfather.
Sandaime, the Professor himself. Iruka could remember the words he shouted to the patient silent Hokage standing there wearing his hat and white formal robes. Kind eyes peered down at him from a wrinkled face. Letting him pour out all his objections until he felt the arms wrap around him and hold him tightly.
Iruka sobbed into the man’s robes but was glad the Third Hokage did not push him away. In fact, the man ran his hands through Iruka’s hair and murmured softly to try to calm him down. Through messy tears, Iruka looked up at him and hiccupped. Around his shoulders, the Third Hokage’s arm wrapped and guided him along towards his home.
No words were spoken on the walk to where the Third Hokage had his residence. Only the smell of tobacco smoke rolling from the pipe clenched in his teeth that the Hokage tended with his free hand hung around them like a cloud of incense. It was familiar and safe to Iruka, who found himself clinging to the third Hokage’s white robes like a lifeline. He knew where they were going, and desperately wanted the company and comfort.
Once they were inside the house, Iruka knew where to find the teabags and kettle to make a nice hot pot for them. It was not difficult to navigate through the cupboards in the large kitchen and fish out plates and bowls and a tray. Alternatively, grab rice and put it in the large cooker for a bit later. All these things he easily located, including the dried seaweed necessary for making onigiri.
Sarutobi Hiruzen had sat down on the sofa after having put away his hokage hat and robes. More comfortable now he tipped the ashes out of his pipe into a glass ashtray and cleaned it with the small silver pick. He could hear cups rattling on a tray from the other room. Reaching for his tobacco pouch, he dipped the pipe in it and packed it carefully.
“Hiruzen sama, I have tea for both of us,” called Iruka while he carried the large tray into the room. That big smile crossing the lad’s face gladdened the old Professor. He patted the couch cushion next to himself once Iruka set the tray down on the coffee table.
“That’s very kind of you, Iruka kun,” the professor chuckled, setting the pipe on its stand nearby for later. He watched Iruka pour the tea for both of them and hand one cup to him. Their fingers touched for the briefest moment in the transfer of the vessel from young to elderly hands. Firm taut skin ran against soft wrinkled flesh. Iruka sipped his tea after he handed a plate of rice balls to his Hokage. They ate together in silence interrupted only by the sounds of their own chewing and sipping.
“Mm, these are good,” Hiruzen commented.
A grin crossed Iruka’s scarred face. “Really?”
“I’ve eaten your food many times before, why would I lie, Iruka kun?” chuckled the Third Hokage. His hand reached out to ruffle Iruka’s hair.
“Stop that, Professor,” Iruka mumbled, pouting.
Hiruzen pulled his hand away. “You don’t like when I do that do you, Iruka kun?”
“No. I’m not a kid anymore, I graduated the academy,” Iruka mumbled looking at him until the hand rested on his shoulder to rub it. Iruka set down his teacup and plate before him.
With a contented sigh, he lay his head against Hiruzen’s side and let the Third Hokage drape an arm around his shoulders. Sleepy from the tea and making the food, Iruka found his eyes drooping.
“Why don’t you lie down and rest, Iruka kun,” murmured the old rough voice he enjoyed hearing so much. Iruka slid slowly down and pillowed his head on the Hokage’s lap so he could lie down on the sofa comfortably.
**

When Iruka next remembered waking, he was laying down on the Hokage’s sofa with his cheek pressed to a soft pillow. Overtop of him someone had spread a white cloak to act as a blanket. Shivering he jolted with a start, and noticed a silver haired figure kneeling there wearing a wolf mask.
“Yikes!” he stammered, tossing the cloak to the side.
Reaching out a dark gloved hand the ANBU said, “I’ve been instructed to take you home by the Hokage.”
A quick glance around confirmed no sign of the Hokage who had left him alone with this ANBU. From the way the suit fit his slight figure Iruka guessed the ANBU agent was hardly older than he was. Yet that silver hair suggested age or a strange family mutation.
Iruka recalled the smell of the agent wrapping an arm around him and escorting him outside. Only to guide him quickly through the streets of the dark of night like a ghost. Towards his house that was quite dark and lonely. Once Iruka entered the front door, he noticed the ANBU hesitating instead of leaving in a flicker.
“Do you want to come in?” Iruka asked. “Or is that not allowed?”
To the side the masked figured cocked his head. “I was instructed to see you home. I think that’s permitted in my orders.”
Soft tones of moonlight shimmered the silver locks of his hair. Iruka almost wanted to reach out and touch it while the ANBU entered his home. Though he stretched out his hand he stopped it for fear of touching something forbidden. ANBU black ops were faceless nameless entities that operated like shadow. He couldn’t capture one in a bottle and keep it here could he? Likewise, he couldn’t stay at the Third Hokage’s house because the old man was busy running the affairs of the village.
“Do you have a name?” asked Iruka, hunting for his teapot and two cups. The ANBU sat on the edge of the nearby table and watched his every movement.
“Wolf,” murmured the ANBU agent. His higher pitched voice confirmed he was only slightly older than Iruka, or it could be a genjutsu.
“Wolf san, do you want some tea?” asked Iruka.
“If you’re making it, you probably should put warm milk in it so you can get your rest. The Hokage doesn’t want you staying up all hours before you go on your first mission.”
Turning around from setting the kettle on the burner, Iruka felt his heart pounding because he was face to face with the ANBU. Only six inches separated them. How had he moved so fast and silently that Wolf san could reach out and grab Iruka’s arm? Or lift a gloved hand up to Iruka’s face and caress his cheek.
“What… are you doing,” was all Iruka could squeak out.
“The Third Hokage also said you were lonely, Umino Iruka,” whispered the ANBU, walking Iruka backwards so his back hit the counter’s edge.
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Two Ways to Comfort a Shinobi