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Iruka stands in the small alcove watching the rain knock leaves off the tree across the road. If it were just a little colder this might be the first snow of the season. But instead of the uplifting serenity of a brand new snow, Konoha gets one more nasty rain storm.
He sighs and re-adjusts the strap of the satchel he’s carrying over his shoulder. The mission desk was slow today and he’d been sent home early. Rather than waste the free evening he’d decided to drop by the Academy to pick up the papers he planned to grade the next day. Getting them done a full day early would free up his entire weekend.
The rainstorm had dropped before he was halfway home, and he’d had the sense to duck into the small niche created by a recessed door to try to avoid the worst of it.
Iruka leans against the wall and watches rain tracking down a length of chain hanging from the corner of a nearby roof. The water clings and flows, gaining actual depth beyond the foundation the chain provides. Like a braid of constantly moving translucent hair. Or maybe, Iruka tips his head as he considers, the center chain is more like bone and the water is like new flesh rippling and growing to cover it.
He decides the first analogy was nicer even if it was less accurate and is pondering whether you could even embed something like chain into a braid of hair when there’s a flurry of movement and sound, and suddenly there’s another person standing in the small alcove with him.
“Sorry, sorry, do you mind if I join you?”
The voice belongs to one very wet, disheveled-looking Hatake Kakashi, and Iruka blinks at him. His silver hair is drenched and matted to his head and hitae-ate, his uniform equally wet and dripping a steady stream of water onto the previously somewhat dry floor of the alcove.
“It’s very wet out there,” the soaked man says, and Iruka startles into a response.
“Yes! Yes it is- sorry- of course, please join me. It probably won’t last too much longer.”
“Thank you Iruka-sensei. I apologize for intruding.”
“Oh! It’s no problem,” Iruka laughs, “it’s not like it’s my alcove, I’m just borrowing it to get out of the rain.”
“Well thank you for sharing,” Kakashi says, and removes his hitae-ate.
“You’re welcome…” Iruka says as he watches him wring out the cloth, then tuck it into a pocket of his vest. Kakashi slicks his hands through his wet hair, tugging it back, attempting to sluice out water while also pulling it out of his face. Iruka is treated to a view of Kakashi’s uncovered eye, shut tight, a scar running vertically through it to disappear beneath the mask on his cheek.
“Did you know that using the Body Flicker technique doesn’t actually help you get less wet in the rain?” Kakashi’s tone is conversational, casual.
Iruka chuckles a little to think of the Jounin attempting to outrun the rain and says, “Well, no, it wouldn’t would it? As soon as you start moving you’re changing your relative velocity to the rain. It doesn’t really matter how fast you move, you’re still going to get wet.”
Kakashi’s looks at him assessingly, with one eye, and Iruka feels the need to defend himself. “It’s just physics. If you knew your speed, the rain’s speed, your own basic surface area, the angle of the rain… how much rain…” Iruka slows down as he considers all of the variables actually needed, “Well… you could actually calculate how wet you would get if you had the data.”
Kakashi’s expression shifts and Iruka thinks he might be smiling. “You’re right. It is possible to calculate. You can do the same thing for kunai or other weapons thrown in the rain. A dry shuriken will more reliably hit your target.”
Iruka flushes with embarrassment as Kakashi speaks, of course the jounin understands physics, it’s not like he’s one of Iruka’s students learning about relative velocity for the first time. He’s chiding himself when the rest of Kakashi’s words register and make him think of the practice session he’d held in the academy training yard last week in the rain. He’d attributed the kid’s worsening aim to slippery fingers and targets, but hadn’t considered the weapons themselves.
Kakashi speaks again, “Of course, wet targets, wind speeds, wind angle, it’s not always possible to calculate everything accurately in advance, ne sensei?” He’s smiling still, “Sometimes we have to rely a little on luck.”
“Right…” Iruka is suddenly reminded that the shinobi in front of him is fully capable of calculating exactly the type of complicated equations they’ve been discussing, in the blink of an eye, while fighting for his life. For Iruka it’s an interesting classroom topic. For Kakashi the wind speed could mean life or death.
“Sensei,” Kakashi says, and Iruka looks at him. “Would you mind terribly closing your eyes for just a moment? I’d like to wring out my mask.”
“Ah, of course, please. Go ahead.” Iruka shuts his eyes and hears rustling, then the splatter of water hitting the ground and thinks how uncomfortable it would be to wear a mask soaked with rain.
A sudden gust of wind changes the angle of the rain, blowing it into their small alcove. Iruka flinches away instinctively from the cold, wet sheet of water, quickly shifting his satchel of papers behind him for what little protection he can provide.
A heartbeat later his shoulder is gripped and he’s moved, eyes still closed, and Kakashi is standing between Iruka and the blast of wind and rain, tucking him into the corner of the alcove.
“I’m already wet, but there’s no need for you to get soaked too.” Kakashi’s voice is close, very close. Iruka can feel the way Kakashi’s body brackets him, leaning in to shelter him from the rain, close but not touching. His voice sounds different and Iruka wonders if he hasn’t put his mask back on yet. He hasn’t told Iruka he can open his eyes yet, so probably not.
“Thank you,” Iruka manages, and curses himself because he can feel the flush across his cheeks. It’s the idea of how they must look right now, if anyone were around to see it. The elite Copy-Nin, maskless and crowding the wary Academy sensei into a corner. It’s like a scene from one of those horrible novels the Jounin is always reading.
Cold fingers touch his cheek and Iruka startles minutely.
“Are you feeling well, sensei? You look quite warm.” Kakashi’s voice is quiet and his fingers brush across Iruka’s face before lifting away.
Iruka says, “Please don’t tease me, Kakashi-san,” and feels Kakashi’s sudden stillness. He realizes too late that Kakashi may have been honestly concerned he was catching a cold after being out in the rain.
“You’re blushing.” It’s not quite a statement. There’s something of a question in Kakashi’s tone, too. That’s why Iruka answers truthfully.
“Yes.” And really, at this rate he’s probably not going to stop blushing any time soon.
“Why?” The question is genuine, none of the teasing or self-deprication Iruka might have expected had this been anyone but Kakashi. Instead he sounds actually curious.
“Well,” Iruka says, “It’s embarrassing isn’t it? This position.”
There’s slight movement and Iruka feels warm breath on the side of his neck, his jaw, and holds very still. “Is it?” Kakashi’s voice prickles against his skin, sending a chill down his spine. “I think it’s nice.”
“Oh,” Iruka breathes.
Kakashi’s presence pulls back and he says, “I think the rain has stopped.” Then a moment later, “You can open your eyes now, sensei.”
Iruka opens his eyes to see Kakashi standing in the opening of the alcove, mask and hitae-ate back in place, sunlight streaming past his shoulders as the last of the rain patters lightly to the ground. “Thank you again for letting me share,” he says, and raises a hand in goodbye.
Iruka watches him walk away, sun glistening off water droplets all around, and thinks maybe it’s not so bad getting caught in the rain sometimes.