Chapter Text
Then
There was barely enough moonlight outside for Iruka to see the back door of the Hatake compound. He'd staked the place out for about a week, but tonight was the last night before his academy graduation exam. And somewhere in there was the scroll he'd been searching for for months.
Iruka snuck through the shadows, unwilling to shine a light until he was inside and covered by walls. The past few nights, he had painstakingly disabled the compound's outermost ward systems. Now, from what he could tell, there weren't any other defenses on the ground floor. His only remaining goal was to go in unnoticed.
The back door slid open with a dragging sound. No matter how slow he went, Iruka couldn't quite muffle it.
He stopped once the door was open enough to slide through. Another careful scan of his surroundings came up blank. Iruka left the door open behind him to avoid making any more sounds.
The inside was bleak but fairly clean for a vacant house. Not for the first time this week, Iruka wondered how this esoteric fūinjutsu scroll fell under the Hatake bloodline's protection. Not that he doubted the chain of custody ledger in the Hokage's personal records room, but leaving sacred knowledge in the abandoned house of an apathetic clan didn't seem right.
Once he got to the inner hallway, Iruka found the heart of the internal wards system. With a small flashlight between his teeth, he got to work dismantling it. It was complex for an advanced door lock; the challenge reaffirmed Iruka's conviction. Surely his promise scroll lay beyond this last barrier.
The rest of Iruka's class had secret clan jutsu to show off during tomorrow's exam. Iruka's fūinjutsu was mostly self-taught since his mom only imparted the basics before she passed. But if, tonight, he could master the advanced technique in this scroll—
A subtle shift in the air pressure made Iruka gasp. He'd disabled the wards in only thirty minutes! That must be some kind of record. Too bad there wasn't a breaking and entering section in the academy exams. He'd have to wait for the chunin or jonin exams for that.
He dropped his hand from the broken ward and scanned his immediate surroundings again. If he'd set off any silent alarms, no one was in range yet.
Iruka crept down to the lower level of the compound and it was bare. The wall panels were artless. The floor had no furniture or carpeting. Dust and cobwebs staled the air.
Iruka took the flashlight from his teeth and swept it around. If he were to hide a scroll... He dropped to his knees and prodded at the floorboards.
There it was. Almost too simple. A fine cloth scroll pouch laid before him.
He set aside the floorboard he'd dislodged, and reached in.
A hum of static tickled at Iruka's chakra.
"What are you doing here?"
Iruka swallowed and peered around, but when he noticed who it was, his shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes. "Ughhh Hound!?"
Right as Iruka replaced the floorboard, the ANBU shoved past him. Hound reopened the hatch and picked up the scroll. Iruka squinted at him as he turned it over in his hand.
"What do you want with this?" Hound asked, exasperated, but Iruka detected a hint of curiosity, or maybe genuine confusion, underneath. "What is it?"
Iruka's lip twitched and then he crossed his arms and raised his chin. "None of your business. Can't you just leave me alone for once?"
Hound shook his head and even though Iruka couldn't see them behind his mask, he knew the kid was rolling his eyes. Hound could only be a few years older than Iruka, but he took everything so seriously, he might as well have been as old as the Hokage.
"You think I chase you around the village because I want to?" Hound replaced the scroll and floorboard and stood over it, mirroring Iruka with his arms crossed. "Go home, Umino-kun."
"Just let me-"
"Can't you shut up and listen?" Hound's voice broke. "There's dangerous stuff in here."
"What do you care?!" Iruka shouted. "Hatake-san doesn't even care!"
Hound scoffed and looked away.
"Really!" Iruka insisted. "I checked. He never comes here. He wouldn't miss it."
Hound shifted, then sighed. "Look. If you leave now, I won't tell the Hokage."
Iruka bit his lip to keep from smirking. Instead, he turned his head away, twiddling with the edges of his sleeves.
"Fine!"
With a snap of his wrist, Iruka tossed a small ball that Hound reflexively caught. On impact, a tag released, ensnaring his wrist and fingers. Then like a magnet, it yanked the ANBU to the nearest wall.
Without bothering to rush, Iruka stomped up the stairs and out of the house, leaving Hound behind in the barren vault.
Once he was far enough away, Iruka let his smirk stretch out. Oh, what he would give to see the look on Hound's mask when he realized Iruka had switched out the scrolls right under his dumb dog nose.
He closed the door to his room and dropped to the floor. A tickle of chakra was all it took to release the seal he'd tattooed under his tongue. Iruka wiggled the scroll pouch out of his mouth and placed it on the ground before him.
Now all there was left to do was unravel his Hatake compound loot.
Now
Iruka rolled his tongue absently over his seal tattoo after swallowing his last bite of dinner.
Across the table, Megumi was looking between him and Kakashi. While waiting for Iruka to respond to his question, Kakashi had cocked his head to the side.
Iruka hummed. "You look like a puppy when you do that."
Megumi gasped and leaned over her plate towards the pair of them. "Do the eyes! Do the puppy eyes, Otōka-chan!"
After only a second's hesitation, Kakashi complied. He angled his head down, pouted his lips slightly, and made his eyes wide while batting his eyelashes at her.
She giggled and mimicked him.
They both turned on Iruka and he scrunched up his nose. Kakashi was playing a dangerous game, imparting such powerful persuasion techniques to such an adorable little girl.
Iruka reached for his plate to take it to the kitchen but Megumi grabbed it and Kakashi's before he could. Not once in the six months of living there did she let either of them clear the table without a fight.
When she disappeared into the kitchen, Kakashi sighed. "Really, Iruka, why take so many shifts?"
Iruka tensed and untensed his jaw; he knew what Kakashi was getting at. They'd been over this before.
"If I don't, it's more work for my next shift after Kotetsu-san files everything wrong." Iruka pulled his work bag out from under the table. "It's my duty as a Shinobi to uphold alphabetical order in the records room."
Back beside him again, Megumi slowed, looking between Iruka and the papers he was pulling out of his bag. She collected the rest of the dirty utensils.
"Ah, of course, records. Here I thought you just got off on the thrill of turning down my blood money." Kakashi picked up the final remnants of their family dinner with a sigh. "My noble civil servant, whatever would Konoha do without your filing expertise."
Kakashi stalked off to the kitchen.
"You can go play, Meg-chan," Kakashi insisted as he came up behind her to take over the dishes.
She stayed determinedly at the sink, standing on her tip toes. "After this. I'm almost done."
Iruka turned to his stack of grading. There was still about an hour before his missions desk shift. He ticked through one student's essay to the sound of scrubbing plates and Megumi's hushed voice.
Then there was a suspicious lull of silence that lasted a second too long.
When Iruka looked up, Megumi stood in front of him with a boardgame in her hands, making the puppy eyes. His glance turned to Kakashi leaning against the wall making the same damn face.
"Please, Otōru-chan?" Megumi begged. "Just one game before you leave?"
Iruka's stupid heart gave in.
While Iruka packed up his grading to continue during his shift, Megumi replaced the papers with game pieces and Kakashi settled into his side.
"Sitting so close, I might think you're trying to cheat." Iruka nudged.
Kakashi hummed and kissed under his jaw. "Not really my style, Sensei. You know I'm yours."
Megumi squirmed a little as she sat down. "Otōru-chan goes first."
The round was over quick with Megumi the undisputed victor. Though Iruka had his suspicions about a certain light-fingered jonin sneaking winning cards into her hand.
Iruka's watch beeped twice and he inhaled.
Megumi focused carefully on folding the game board and placing it neatly in the box. "Otōru-san, can Bull come play while you're at work?"
"U-um." Iruka stopped mid-reach for his bag and looked to Kakashi. "Only if Otōka-san takes you to the park. Bull's a bit big for our house."
"Maa, too bad we don't have a couple hundred extra square feet and a backyard lying around..."
Iruka furrowed his brow at the mention of the Hatake compound. Kakashi—understandably—almost never mentioned that house. And this was the second mention this week.
"Maa," Iruka copied in a deep register. "Until this mansion falls from the sky, Bull will just have to meet you two at the park."
Iruka stood and straightened his uniform, throwing his work bag over his shoulder.
Megumi was lining up each game piece along the inside walls of the box when suddenly she stopped. "Are you coming back after work, Otōru-san?"
A glance exchanged between Kakashi and him. Then Iruka smiled softly at her. She didn't ask that every night, but whenever she did they gave the same response.
"With all I have," Iruka promised. He crouched to kiss her on top of her head, then Kakashi on the lips, then he stood and headed out.
As he rushed to make his shift on time, Iruka sorted his mental backlog—Megumi's question, the Hatake compound, report filing, ungraded assignments.
A memory of his mom surfaced, how she used to count out her tasks by tapping her fingers on her forehead head.
Iruka slowed at the sudden intrusion before picking up the pace again. He arrived at the missions desk early, methodically worked ahead, and still felt behind the curve.