The whole day the sky above Konoha had looked like soon the gates of heaven would open. Grey clouds piled up, slowly floating closer and growing into a massive wall of darkness, plus the thunder rolling in the distance from time to time. You, in your thick chunin vest and the long standard ninja pants, cursed the high humidity. Sweat poured down your back and gathered in your neck, only easing when you bound your annoyingly thick hair into a ponytail. Now, as you exited the T&I center, the very first drops of rain began to fall and not the shy, soft ones. No, the heaven maybe hesitated for the whole day, but when it opened, the gates were ripped open, with all its might.
You cried frustrated out as the massive shower of warm summer rain hit you. "FUCK!"
With your enhanced speed it would've been no problem to outrun a thorough soak, but there was the pile of files in your arms. Your harsh but fair boss Ibiki Morino ordered you to go through them, to correct any mistakes and rewrite some of the handwritten notes in there (your jammed letters really resembled chicken's scratch, you knew) and so you would, but had the goddamn rain to come down when you were about to go home!?
"Great." You mumbled under your breath as you walked down the street, trying to shield the feeble papers with your own body and watching the last people running hurriedly into the safety of their houses. Rain already made its way under your clothes, making the fabric of the vest and shirt underneath sticking to your skin. You grimaced at the wet feeling. Time for a lukewarm shower tonight. Seriously, first the heat residing over Konoha for weeks and now the great downpour.
Your small flat was at a decent distance to your workplace, not really far away, but also not exactly around the corner. The shortcut over the roofs lasted maybe ten minutes, but walking the same road the civilians of Konoha used every day, was taking nearly forty minutes. Thank god the files weren't completely destroyed and soaked when you finally entered the street where your house was located. Your toes were muddied, your mood was horrible (you liked rain, but not when you had important work documents in your arms) and your stomach was hanging somewhere at the height of your knees. Craving for a nice easy dinner and already named shower, you just wanted to escape the rain.
But there was something sitting in front the doorstep, just as soaked as you, but surely being more than only miserable. A cat. The eyes fixed on the door, like it would open magically if the small animal had the power to make them open by the mere power of its stare.
You weren't really surprised. Around Konoha your district was famous for harboring swarms of cats and many lovers of said arrogant and lazy animal moved here to feed the homeless ones and spoil them into fat douchebags. Also you had your fair share of encounters and until today you thought you knew every cat near your flat. But this small poor thing was new.
You stopped for a split second, watching the cat not even flinch when you spoke up. "What are you doing here, huh? In this weather?"
The left ear turned to you, but otherwise nothing. So it wasn't an affectionate one. Good, you were always down for some cuddles, but not today, not with files piling in your arms and dripping rain all over the place. With a sigh you stomped around the cat and tried to find your keys. Not in your pockets. Not in your vest. Maybe...
Sure. Naturally you had to forget your keys on your desk back in the office when it was raining and you had sensitive information with you which you couldn't leave alone to run back and get your keys! For a short second you allowed yourself to dwell in your self-pity, then you shook your head. You were a ninja! Something like this stupid lock wouldn't stop you from entering your own home!
Settling the files carefully down, you glanced at the cat, which still hadn't moved one inch. "Don't get your tail twisted okay? And don't rant me out to your owner, alright?"
Intense eyes met yours. Maybe you hallucinated, but wasn't there understanding and even faint amusement in those black round pupils?
"You're making fun of me."
The tail twitched. Could mean anything, but you took it as a yes. Rolling your own eyes, you selected two slender pins out of your vest and kneeled in front of the door. "So," you asked absent-minded while you worked on the lock, "to whom of our crazy inhabitants you belong to? You don't seem to be a stray, with no scabies or holes in your fur. Maybe the couple above me? No, they have a newborn and you don't look like a cute family cat. What about the woman at the first level? She has a lot of cats."
The one beside you made a low throaty sound. One look at the bared teeth and you nodded. "So I assume you don't like her. Okay, I give you that. Mhmm..."
Your neighbor crossed your mind. Immediately heat soared into your face and embarrassed to the very core your features twisted into an apologetic mess. "I'm so stupid." you mumbled to the cat, who was by now watching you with the same intensity it had given the door before your arrival. "Getting all flustered over the mere image... Nevermind."
The door clicked open. An old injury in your right knee cracked loudly as you stood quickly up, taking the files into your arms. "Well," with your foot you held the entrance open, out of the corner of your vision watching the cat still sitting at the slightly wet doorstep, rain drops slicking the fur to a tight coat around the frail bones of the animal. Seriously, you couldn't even make out the color of the cat. It must have sit for hours here or in an open field to get that wet.
Minutes ticked by and the cat stubbornly continued to sit on the outside, while your arms and legs grew tired by holding onto the huge pile of files and at the same time holding the door open. Sometime, the already thin thread of your patience snapped.
"Come on now," you hissed into the direction of the innocent animal, "get in! I can't just let you stay out here, even when your owner isn't living here! So get inside, stay for a little while and then you can go to wherever you need to be-! Why am I fighting with a cat!?"
A whine escaped your lips. "It's not like you can understand me." Aspirated you sighed out, then locked once more eyes with the wet animal. "Okay, no matter if you understand me or not, I'm closing the door in exactly five seconds. Five, four, three, two, one-!" You lifted your foot.
Slowly, oh so slowly the door fell shut. In the meantime you tried to tell yourself that you gave the cat more than enough time to react at least a tiny bit. Nevertheless sympathy for the poor thing held a tight grip on your heart. A lone cat in the heavy rain... Hopefully it didn't get sick...
A low mewl, claws scratching over stone and a shadow squirming through the smallest of possible openings, just before the entrance closed and would've locked the cat out. Another sigh build up in your chest, but the relief that the animal didn't have to sleep out in the open with the world going down was getting the better of you. So you beamed brightly at the cat, which strolled casually over, just like it had intended to go inside from the very beginning, but liked to keep you guessing for the sake of its own amusement. "You're a mischievous one, huh?"
Another mewl, higher this time and clearly directed at you. In response you chuckled and adjusted the files on your arms once more. "Well... I have nothing against to let you stay for some time, until the rain eases. As long as you want. But my guess is you won't stay for long. After all it's in a cat's nature."
The cat kept silent, though the tail was standing at attention, twitching lightly. You shrugged and didn't wait when you climbed up the stairs. But in the end when you reached your level and kneeled down to pick the lock of your own flat, you noticed the small thin shadow nearing and sitting down in some distance, watching your form closely.
This time the animal didn't wait for the last moment to follow you. Now it nearly made you stumble with its eagerness to get inside and the mix of annoyance and amusement you felt was fighting for a second, then the amusement won. A close call, but it won.
Your flat was nothing special. But it was yours and with passion you kept your things clean and organized. But that wasn't everything to see. There were plants near the window and you were especially proud of your red desert rose, which was giving the room some kind of exotic vibe. Months you spent with research how to keep it alive and well nourished and those months were well spent, given the vibrant color and big flower petals. Everytime you entered your home and threw a look at the flower, you just had to smile.
Beside the plants, there were also a few bookshelves sitting at the walls, stuffed with scrolls in all sizes, books in all varieties and out of all genres. Though there was also a book tower near your wide bed, telling of the insomniac nights you had to waste from time to time.
The cat looked curiously around, vanished shortly in the little kitchen corner, paced back into the middle of your one room apartment, jumped on your desk standing in the corner opposite to your bed and seemed to inspect the documents there. But that was nonsense. Cats couldn't read.
Then you noticed the wet paw spur the animal left on your carpet. The animal was dripping, the thick fur soaked in water and was now idly playing with the edges of one of your important reports!
"Down from the desk!" you shrieked in horror, seeing already the water splashing on the carefully written letters of your latest work. Startled the cat hissed and like a flash hid under the bed. Not caring about anything else, you hastily checked the files for any lasting damage and breathed relieved out when you saw there was none. "Sorry," with a loud crash you added your load to the mess on top of the desk and toed your sandals off, "I'm not used to have someone here, even when it's only a cat."
Nothing. Filled to the brim with guilt, you walked to the window and tugged one small branch off of one of the smaller plants. The plant itself was nothing special, even apparently boring in comparison to the bright and colorful desert rose. But even when it was only green and only blossomed in white-purplish flowers during the summer months, you were sure of the effect the smell would have on your scared guest.
You rubbed the leaves between your fingertips as you got to the ground in front your bed. "Hey," you flirted with the cat and offered the catnip on your open palm, "I have something special for you. As a peace offering."
Yellow eyes blinked in the darkness, but nothing else happened. You must look like a total mad woman, kneeling and nearly crawling under your bed and cooing with your sweetest voice you were able to fake. And the cat must thought that too as it scrambled deeper underneath the furniture, not coming closer.
"Fine, I understand. I leave that here," indeed you placed the catnip on the ground, "while I'm under the shower. And afterwards I'm going to rub you dry, finding out what kind of color you are, you rascal."
The rain still pattered against the glass of your windows as you undressed in the middle of the living room, not caring about the wet splash the clothes made on the ground when you dropped them on the white tiles of the kitchen corner. Before hopping into the bathroom, you opened one of the windows a little bit, enough to let some fresh air in, but not the cold rain too.
The cat was at least interested into the catnip. Restless it ruffled its fur as you strolled into the bathroom and when you closed the door, you would swear you heard a happy purr coming out of the direction of your bed.
The water was a blissful mix of nicely warm and freshly cold and you moaned more than one time when the exhaustion and tiredness residing deep within your bones was washed away. Scrubbing the remaining dirt and sweat off with a Honey and Milk scented body wash, you reminiscent over the day. Working for the T&I department wasn't easy, no matter what other ninjas might think. Every day you were facing highly dangerous prisoners, had to undergo physical endurance training to withstand torture or questioned suspects yourself if not working alongside Morino, who was a god at manipulating a prisoner to spill every dirty secret without the criminal even noticing. Today was a tough day, the suspects not giving in and you had to resort to read their minds what wasn't a pleasant experience at all. The dirtier and darker a mind was, the crueler and twisted a criminal behaved, more pressure and danger would the interrogator face while entering a mindscape. And today you entered the mind of a corrupted traitor, who was under the influence of a nasty jutsu, exchanging any kindness with pure evil. Even more delicate, the guy graduated alongside you and entering his mind and finding out he used to have a crush on you during the academy times was also hard. Morino offered help, but you had declined out of... reasons.
"Stupid dummy," you muttered, "you're just too damn proud." And you were proud. About what you did, about the results you delivered. On top of that, not every ninja was fitted to withstand such psychological pressure and your record of visits of a therapist was clean. Not even Morino had a fat zero standing there.
Your thoughts drifted further, to the weather of the following days, the state of your fridge, what you would cook tonight, what you would give to your roommate, where did your roommate belong to... The embarrassing thought from before crossed your mind and you groaned. "Goddammit... He has ninken, you stupid dummy. Ninja dogs! There's no way he has a cat running around."
Kakashi Hatake, famous shinobi and admired idol for many ninjas in Konohagakure. His students were the son of the fourth Hokage, the only survivor of the Uchiha-massacre and a civilian-born girl with an interesting personality. Unluckily the Sasuke Uchiha went rogue a few weeks ago and Naruto Uzumaki also left the village, not as a traitor, but as the student of Jirayia, one of the three legendary sannin. Kakashi Hatake was a great colleague, a more than capable ninja and on top of that wore a mask to add to the mystery around him... He was simply a legend. And you out of all the people had the luck to be his neighbor. Not more, not less. A faceless neighbor, even though you crushed hard on him the moment the intense onyx eyes set for the first time on your figure. The most you two did was a quick nod at each other when you crossed paths, he on a way to a new mission and you coming from another interrogation.
You squealed and buried your face in your hands. "Can you stop thinking about him? That's so ridiculous! You're not a teen, you're an adult! And there will never be something between you, so calm the fuck down!"
Your loudly beating heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks told a different story. And the fact that you couldn't open your mouth when you were close to Kakashi and were even thankful for the wordless greeting you two shared was only adding to the pitiful teenage-image you denied forcefully.
You sighed out. "Either way, he's currently on a mission. So stop your stupid illusions."
A week ago you saw him passing by with a backpack on his shoulders, obviously prepared for a longer journey on his own. He had nodded at you, you had nodded back and Kakashi was gone. And naturally you knew about the reputation and his skills, about the sharingan and the 1000 justus he copied with it and also about the countless missions he already went through successfully and nevertheless you couldn't help yourself but to worry a tiny bit, even when it wasn't your place. Hell, you weren't even friends! But your heart was a rebellious little thing and so you withered in the distant fear of a masked cleaning commando suddenly emptying out the flat to your left and leaving not one speck of its former occupant behind. The same cleaning command which emptied out the flats of your parents. You also remembered clearly the empty room of your best friend Gin, walls bare and impersonal. Sadness slithered into your thoughts and tainted your mindscape, weighing you down and making every action a bit harder to bear.
A visit at the memorial stone was in order soon. You would need sunflowers and a four-leaf clover, favorite things of your mother and father and for your best friend a shiny stone was enough. Gin loved interesting stones, fitting in the palm of a single hand, with holes or a special shine embedded into the surface.
Tomorrow, you thought, tomorrow I can make some time.
Your mind was clouded when you exited the shower, your body refreshed and clean, but thoughts soiled in weak melancholy. So the picture of the cat rolling around on the carpet, happily purring and tail wagging at the catnip captured between the strong paws hit you completely unexpected. Only cladded into a simple green towel, you bend down and watched the rascal for some seconds, then you clicked your tongue, what caused the cat to comically pause in between the movements. One of the front paws was stretched into the air, the other cradled the branch of catnip against the furry chest. The tongue was lolling out of the muzzle, though as soon as the cat glanced at you, the slick muscle vanished quickly and almost ashamed the animal looked up, eyes wide and pupils round.
You grinned widely as you stretched out your hands, which had a tight grip on an equally soft and green towel, meant for the still slightly dripping cat in front of your feet. "Now, coming to the good part."
The cat was apparently too focused on something else. For an obscene amount of time you thought the animal stared at your legs and chest before realizing that you nearly managed to catch it. Then another strangled hiss meant to get its disagreement across and the cat left the catnip behind and was halfway under the bed again before you could even think "Oh fuck." You wouldn't let the cat do what it wanted. Your flat, your clean standards. And the longer the wet fur remained, the longer the poor thing would shiver. Didn't that rascal know what wet fur meant for a cat?
With the speed of a shinobi you chased after the animal. "Come here! I only want to dry you off!" you yelled with outstretched arms and forgetting you were only wearing a loose towel. But there was only a cat and various plants in your flat, so did your attire really matter? The chase didn't last long, even though the cat pulled a lot of tricks to not get caged in your hands. But backed into a corner, the little rascal couldn't escape anymore and you grinned in victory. Grabbing the middle of the lithe warm body, you raised the cat over your head.
"Oh, explains why you're so cranky, Mister Rascal." you teased after checking the gender. Rascal (you just decided to name the cat, there was no collar or nametag present) mewled loudly, a rather croaked sound and struggled to get out of your grip. Gently, but with enough force to keep the cat restrained, you pressed Rascal to your chest.
"Ssh, I know. I know, but if you stay wet, you're going to get sick. And your owner -excuse me, cats only have slaves- your slave wouldn't like the thought of you getting even crankier than you already are."
Rascal snarled deep in his chest, but didn't try to escape anymore, so you used the chance to quickly towel the little idiot dry. In the process you grew more and more curious. Underneath your fingers surprisingly many muscles tensed and relaxed, also there were many scars with knots and rough skin littering over Rascal and as you inspected his face, the scar crossing the right eye was almost jumping into your vision. The poor thing couldn't even open the eye properly.
"So you're a fighter." you muttered. Your statement was met with a shutter rummaging through Rascal and a low grumble. "And you're an old man, huh? With the grey fur and all that. A grumpy old man with a resting bitch-attitude."
The cat ears twitched, before a huff, similar to an annoyed sigh rippled through the animal. Finally he gave up the useless struggle and went limb in your arms, what gave you the chance to completely dry him off. Carefully pressing Rascal between your breasts, you walked through the flat, absent-minded humming and enjoying the breeze which brought some life and air into the room.
Once more you squeezed the middle of Rascal, then allowed him to escape. Immediately he jumped across the room and took place at your desk, the tail wrapped around his body. The one eye followed your form as you went on with your business and prepared dinner, a miso soup and salmon, together with some grilled rice and egg. Nothing special, but apparently enough for the cat.
Only one moment. One goddamn moment where you didn't keep a close eye on the fish, silently sizzling in the frying pan and a swift movement from Rascal, then he and the fish vanished underneath the bed and you could only stare at the empty pan, totally flabbergasted at the bold cat.
"Little rascal..." you growled and tightened the towel around your body, "Where is my fish?"
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only some quiet gobbling sounds could be heard.
"Rascal...!" That couldn't be... You earned that dinner! Wasn't a horrible day at work reason enough for a nice dinner? And now even that was taken away! "Give me my fish! You stupid little-!"
Just to mock you, Rascal stuck his head out of the space where he hid himself and his dinner, threw an uninterested look at you, with the hands pushed into your hips and hair curling wildly around your head, then he showed off his tongue. You couldn't shake off the feeling that the cat understood more than you thought.
Maybe Rascal belonged to a ninja, who taught him to listen to commands. Maybe he was a ninja-cat, young and yet not able to speak. That didn't give Rascal the right to steal your salmon!
"Give it back! Come on," your tone switched from angry to pleading, "I had a horrible day! Do you know what goes on in the T&I department? I had to invade the mind of three different people today, you have no idea what is going on in some heads! Perverted, twisted, terrible things, okay? I wanted this fish!"
Gobbles and slurps, then a little burp.
A groan escaped and tiredly you cupped your forehead, too exhausted to argue any longer with a cat over a fish which got devoured in the moment you spoke. "Fine," you sighed and turned to the stove, "just clean up the rests when you're done. Why am I even trying to argue with you?"
Quickly you ate the rest of your meal and when Rascal came out of his hiding spot, fur fluffy and the maw suspiciously licked clean, you only gifted the animal with a partly angry, partly amused stare.
You couldn't shake off the feeling that Rascal was laughing internally at you, how you sat there only in a towel, bending over a plate and stuffing your cheeks with food, you rolled your eyes at your hyperactive mind.
"Stupid dummy," you mumbled inaudible for anyone else, "and you're a mean thief." Agitated you pointed with your fork at the cat. Uninterested the animal cocked his head, then continued to clean itself. Licking the paws and dragging them over the ears and face, Rascal ignored you, while you sighed and shook your head.
"Seriously, I'm too stressed. Just imagine a day with a serial killer, a perverted underwear thief and a traitor who crushed at you at the academy. Then the scary Ibiki who nearly pressured me in going to a therapist, because I look," you made quotation marks in the air, "depressed. Thankfully I could dodge that appointment, but he ordered me to make a mental health evaluation. He knows I hate those. Man, he never saw me depressed."
Rascal ignored you.
"Just saying." Gesturing around, you took the next bite of fried rice. "Since five years I'm working for the T&I department and I never had problems. And I'm working hard, just as hard as Ibiki. You never saw him, but he takes his work very seriously. I guess," chuckling you scratched your cheek, "I'm kind of a workaholic, I guess?"
One bored glance, then Rascal continued his licking and cleaning with vigor.
Cats. Such arrogant bastards.
The hours following weren't interesting. Just like you had planned, the evening was calm and nice, balm for you're a bit strained nerves. Finishing your meal, you washed the dishes, slipped into your comfortable sleeping attire, then started to work your way through one of the files you brought back. Meanwhile a part of your mind was concentrated on the grey cat. Rascal went over from licking his paws clean to inspect the room further. He strolled casually around, sniffed on various things and threw suspicious looks at the plants, before jumping upwards to inspect the catnip closer.
In the last light of the day the grey fur almost glistened silvery, like the steel of a blade. Like the hair of the copy ninja.
Before the embarrassment could get the better of you, you shook your head. "You shouldn't... think about him too much. Now you even see him in the fur of a cat! Really, get a grip on yourself and your crazy mind."
Not even his ears twitched into your direction as you said that. Rascal was too focused on the catnip to register anything else. One more low snicker, then your attention shifted to the outside, where the clouds drifted lazily over the sky. Sometimes thunder rumbled and lightning stroked through the darkness. It didn't seem like the rain would ease up soon.
"I have a basket somewhere, blanket and such laying around." you said into the silence, what caught Rascal's attention. Abruptly the cat jerked upwards and the one intense black eye was staring at you, how you sat in loose trousers and a wide shirt at your desk. "I'm going to bed and I'm telling you this because I still believe you can understand what I say, so it's kind of a test. I'm leaving the window a tiny bit open and you're probably thin enough to pass through. If you're hungry tomorrow, feel free to help yourself to some fish -not that you would do otherwise- or whatever you feel like."
Rascal crocked his head, sitting properly at the window ledge, then mewled shortly. Enough for you. Preparing the makeshift bed was nothing, actually the simple motions calmed you even more than the work you did seconds ago. You did something for another being, even when it was only an animal. But as you looked up from your marvelous task, Rascal already took the opportunity and stretched his small body all over the bed, yawning and balling the blanket with his front paws. Your bed. Yours.
"Oh no." You sighed loudly, suppressing the hissy fit just in time. "Not again. Please. I prepared such a great bed for you." You couldn't ban the little whimper out of your voice.
As an answer the cat mewled, but then moved the tiniest bit over, making just enough space for you to sleep on your own bed. Curse your weakness for cats. Curse your weak defenses. Rascal managed to steal your fish and your bed and you, as the human couldn't get back, because your stupid heart grew warm at the sight of the groomed animal occupying the biggest part of your sleeping place. With a soft huff you slipped under the covers, aware of the raised attention of the cat beside you. Turning on your side and closing your eyes, you listened for some seconds to the ruffling of fur over soft cushions. But the day was more exhausting than you thought and you quickly slipped into the merciful darkness.
The sudden touch of a tail tickling your nose was enough to rip out of your frail sleep. Sleepily brushing it away, you glared through squinted eyes at the damn cat and turned away, settling again down and tugging your blankets up to your nose.
This annoying ball of fur has to vanish in the morning, you thought grumpily, or else I'm going to shave this damn thick fur off.
Afterwards your sleep was undisturbed and long and when you woke up, the rain stopped and the first rays of sunlight peeked through your window. Birds chirped in the distance and the first people were busy, walking on the streets and filling the city you swore to protect with life. Also the many cats around the house were loudly mewling, screeching or simply bringing their own kind of music into the buzzling scene of Konoha in the morning. Sitting up, you noted that the cat was gone and the catnip on your windowsill seemed to miss another branch.
That was okay. Smiling you gently stroked over the branches of the abused plant, before filling a cup and watering all of the colorful flowers in your flat, gifting each and one of them with silent mutters and a short infusion of chakra, enough to make the plants stronger than the average greenery. A trick you learned from the Yamanaka's in exchange for some seeds you had once brought with you back from the Land of Tea. So not even some stolen branches would soil the efforts you brought upon yourself.
Today was your free day, so you took your time getting ready. Slowly preparing some breakfast, slipping into a civilian attire, consisting of a shirt with wide sleeves covering your hands completely and some tight jeans, and mentally preparing yourself for a visit at the memorial stone. Nothing special, just an average free day.
The sun was already hitting its highest point as you calmly walked on the clearing where your destination was, in your hands once a small sunflower, a freshly-plucked four-leave clover and a stone with exactly 7 holes and you didn't made one of them. The stone had to be special enough for Gin. But you stumbled nearly over your feet as you spotted a crouched figure in front of the dark memorial, intently staring at the letters of the fallen shinobi like he stared at your door.
Rascal. The grey-furred cat which reminded you of your neighbor Kakashi Hatake. What a coincidence seeing the animal here. Honestly, you didn't expect to see the cat ever again, but here he was, tail twitching and fur bristling when you walked closer, step by step and carefully placing your feet to not to disturb him.
Silently you kneeled down in front of the stone, ignoring the small shadow completely. You weren't here to fawn over something. You were here to pay your respects, to remind yourself why you were throwing yourself into the dirtiest mindscapes, to energize again and set your mind straight. The memorial stone was perfect for that. Not many people came here, only few people came regularly and when there was someone, other ninjas didn't join a fellow shinobi in their sadness. It was an unspoken rule not to disturb anyone here.
You folded your hands, all the while muttering the first well-known sentences you always said when you came. "Hello mother, hello father. Hello Gin. It's been a week again."
Whispering about your problems and troubles, you forgot about your companion and the minutes or even hours flowing by. The whole time your hands were folded and you were kneeling, sunflower, clover and stone at the step before the actual memorial, until your knees hurt and your bones were stiff from your unmoving position.
Your voice was hoarse as you finished your report about your life. "...and can you believe I'm Ibiki's right hand? He said so himself. Okay, not into my face, but to some others who complained why I get so much interrogation-time and such. I only accidently overheard them. Mother, I'm sure you would ask about my love-life, but nothing has changed. I'm still hopelessly crushing on the same person I already told you about. Nothing changed, so I think I will give up on him. Anyway..." you sighed and opened your eyes, "I had no chance to begin with."
Suddenly a low hiss reminded you harshly that you weren't alone. One eyebrow raised, one hand just wiping over your other eye to hide the little tear from anyone else, you looked at the startled cat, who made the sound in the back of his throat, dangerous and rumbling through his whole small figure.
"What's getting your tail twisted now, huh?" you asked. "Are you some kind of over-possessive cat who owns every human whose house you use to sleep over?"
Rascal huffed and turned his head away, ears flatly pressed to his skull. Also his claws were peeking out of the paws, long and sharp, so was the fur of his back even more ruffled than yesterday. Something upset the animal, but you couldn't figure out what it was.
"Don't worry, if you see it that way, I will keep a window open for you, even when you steal some of my catnip every time you pass by."
The ears were still flat, but at least the muscles relaxed noticeable as soon as you closed your mouth. You smiled one last time at Rascal, then groaned when you abruptly got to your knees which cracked loudly after spending a lot of time in an uncomfortable position. "Well," you chuckled once more, "I guess I see you around."
Rascal didn't respond (not that you had imagined that) and so you turned around and walked away with a noticeable lighter heart than this morning. The cat stayed behind, not moving an inch when you threw a last glance at him and the slender figure sitting in front of the memorial stone tugged for unknown reasons at your insides. How was it possible that a mere animal managed to express such loneliness and solemn grief through a simple stance than every other human you knew?
Grief... Abruptly your mind headed for the darker corners of your mindscape, scrapping at the walls which locked your fears and insecurities away. With all of your trained self-restraint you managed to pull yourself back from the walls, but barely in the nick of time. Only a few seconds longer and you would've been were you had started and that wasn't your goal for today.
Heading back to your apartment and thinking all the while about some daily tasks you had to fulfil to live your life like a responsible adult, you met one of your dear friends, doing the same mundane tasks you thought of. In search for an idea for your dinner which hopefully wouldn't get stolen, your feet leaded you towards the market. Even from the distance you could hear the voices mashing together, the happy noises of a busy city and your mood lightened again, before you spotted the familiar figure. There he was, looming near a stand with fresh fruits and vegetables as you spotted him, cladded into his usual chunin uniform and a basket hanging from his arm, his brown hair pulled into the usual ponytail and hands caressing deeply in thought the scar crossing his nose.
"Hey, Iruka!" You raised your hand into a silly little wave. "School's out, I guess?"
For a second your friend looked around, then a bright smile appeared on his face and he waved back as you stepped closer. "You guess right, (Y/N)."
"So what are you searching?"
"Some vegetables which aren't massacred before they arrived here." As a proof of his words, Iruka raised a salad and you winced in sympathy as you noticed the many dark and ugly brown spots littering over the once healthy green. "And this is one of the good looking ones."
"Then this seller is off of my list." you chuckled. Without sparing the disgruntled man another glance, you turned your back at him and waited for a second for Iruka to dispose of the disgrace of a salad, then he joined you in your slow walk over the market.
"How are the kids?" you asked and stopped to inspect a fish merchant.
The teacher laughed a bit embarrassed. "Energetic, as always. Today Konohamaru tried to undermine my lessons with the help of a thoroughly prepared trap which should've dropped a ball of flour on me."
"And?"
"I send him into the school kitchen. The cooks were amused to see a child walk in, covered from head to toe in flour."
Shaking your head in amusement, you glanced at Iruka and saw that his eyes shortly dulled over, like he was thinking of something depressing. Carefully you placed your hand at his shoulder, a short assuring touch and he flinched back into the present. "Hey. What's wrong?" Then you nodded. It was clear like the sun hanging above your heads. "It's about Naruto. You miss him."
The teacher scratched his forehead. "Damn," he mumbled, "Is it that obvious?"
"You were always an open book for me, Iruka."
"It's... I mean, three years is a long time. When he comes back, he will be sixteen or seventeen, a teen. Will he mature? Will he become an adult under the tutelage of Jirayia, one of the three sannin?" He shook his head. "In comparison, I'm only a boring academy teacher."
"You stupid dum-dum." Angrily you flicked his forehead what Iruka quitted with a childish "Hey!" and a reassuring touch to the slightly stinging spot. "I met him and Naruto is such a goofball that he will never compare you to Jirayia. He's his teacher, but you're his family. His family, the first person to acknowledge him as a person. You trusted his abilities, so come down from your insecurity-horse and ask Tsunade-sama if you can send letters to him. There must be a possibility to stay in touch. And I'm quite sure Naruto already asked Jirayia the same question."
Shaking steadily your head, you turned to the fish merchant and pointed at one of the delicious looking treats. "I will get this one and the salmon," you gestured towards a pile of cooled and beautifully rose colored fish, "over there."
Iruka stayed silent while you payed for your purchase, his eyes lowered and hands clenching around the handle of the empty basket. Then, as you were three steps ahead of him, he managed to capture your sleeve and stop you. "Thanks," the brunet said quietly and the warmth brimming in his eyes was almost overbearing, "Thanks for setting my head straight."
"Next time we meet up, buy me a drink, 'kay?"
"Got you."
You two continued your lazy stroll over the market and having a nice recipe in mind, you bought the things you needed for a nice spinach salmon lasagna. In the end you needed both of your arms to support all the ingrediences from falling to the ground. Shortly you considered to create a shadow clone, but dismissed the idea quickly. You would manage that.
Iruka's basket was also slowly filling and just when he handed over the money to a friendly woman and received a bundle of radish, he asked a question which caught you ice cold.
"Were you at the memorial stone again?"
Hot and cold shivers wandered over your back. "Yes...?" you mumbled and acted like the display of fresh peaches caught your interest.
His voice immediately turned stern. "Was that a question or an answer?"
"An answer. Gosh Iruka, your inner teacher breaks free. Put a leash on him."
"And who were you honoring exactly?"
"Iruka..."
"Who?"
You wouldn't get out of this. The brunet stared fiercely at you, now in complete teacher-mode. One eyebrow was raised, arms crossed over his chest and you were sure, there was only so little hindering him from impatiently tapping his foot. So the heavy and defeated sigh rippled out of you, together with your answer which would anger Iruka for sure.
"Mother, father and Gin. Brought them some presents, talked to them... You know, the usual."
"(Y/N)."
"I know. I know," you repeated after a glance at him, "But it's a habit. He was my friend."
"You call that a friend? He left-!"
"I. Know."
"Then why? Why are you torturing yourself?"
This conversation needed a change. "Because I'm into BDSM and me is the 'M' in the acronym."
Iruka clicked annoyed his tongue. "That's not a joking matter. We would never leave you over your job!"
Tiredly you shook your head, hair flailing around. You had managed to lock those memories away, but his careless words rattled and weakened your mental defenses to the point of nearly crashing those walls down in the most brutal way.
Gin wasn't dead. He was alive and kicking in an outpost of Konoha close to the borders of the Lightning country, that was the last you heard of him. But to you, he was dead and rotting. Maybe even more rotten than your parents, who were really decaying three feet underneath the surface of the local graveyard.
"I know," you repeated yet again, your voice pressed, "what you want to say. Goddamn, I know already. Gin is just an asshole; one of the many assholes of the world. I'm not grieving anymore about him and his decision, I'm done with that. I only honored the childhood friend he once was, the incredibly nice and accepting buddy who loved strange stones more than anything in the world."
Not waiting for an answer, you waved a bit miffed at the brunet teacher and in the way his expression fell nearly out of his face, you knew he understood what he did. Thank god, but Iruka always managed to pick up his little mistakes very quickly. One of his many good points.
Why can't I just fall in love with someone as lovely as Iruka? you thought suddenly. He was nice, had an easy-going personality, was perceptive and was making sure that his friends were always his top priority. On top of that, he was romantic (he spilled his love for sappy things over a couple of drinks), was able to oversee the personal mistakes of a person and even when he was angry, the teacher had the unique trait of remaining his calm and tried to discuss differences out whenever he had to face troubles.
You sighed loudly, what caused some people on the street to throw some not-so-secretive glances at you. But your stupid heart decided stubbornly to be attached to a silver scarecrow, who was secretive, mysterious and hid his face from the entire world, even his close friends. Once you overheard Gai bragging about a quick peek at Kakashi's features during a training session and that the silver haired jonin was shocked for a split second, before quickly dragging the mask upwards again. You could only dream about such a sight and that didn't stop your brain from going even further than seeing more from your neighbor.
You neared your apartment. Your keys were still in the T&I rooms, therefore you bend again down to pick the lock of the front door. While getting to work, your senses went suddenly crazy. You were watched. Intently and closely, if your natural and trained instincts were right.
Briskly turning, you spotted a by now familiar slouched form sitting a few meters away, the head cocked in interest, the fur slick and shimmering in the light and the tail neatly arranged over his front paws, from time to time twitching faintly.
"Rascal," you picked up the food and opened the door further, "you're such a creeper."
A hoarse mewl was your answer. It sounded a bit miffed, so you grinned widely and showed of your teeth. "Just admit it, you're a fucking creep-creep cat. Inwardly you plan to kill every human with a well-placed throw of yourself in front of their feet, favoring spots like..." You left the door open and weren't surprised when the cat instantly strolled after you, the scarred eye closed and silent like a shadow. "In front of the stairs to make them fall down said stairs and make them break their necks. A sneaky assassin-move."
Another mewl, lower this time but just as adorable.
You laughed out and your heart felt lighter than before. "My god, I'm talking to a cat and the little rascal answers me too! Soon I will be a crazy cat-lady. Or what do you think?"
Rascal's grey fur inflated. Spikes of tufts raised into the air in his obvious disgust and he snarled lowly, voicing his disagreement clearly.
You shrugged as you stepped in front of your doors, bend down and picked with a by now well-known motion the two thin knifes out of your pockets. "No matter what you're disagreeing with, I disagree with your disagreement and close the case for further relaxation and a day full of books and reports. I will leave the window open for you, so you can go whenever you want, alright?"
This time Rascal purred and maybe it was your imagination, but he may or may not brushed his head against your leg as he passed by, even flicking his tail and tenderly touching the sliver of skin at your ankle which was showing due to your low shoes and maybe a bit too short pants.
Maybe it was all part of your imagination.
The rest of the day was spend calmly in your flat. You slowly worked on three of the pile of reports Ibiki gave you as homework while Rascal was mainly hanging out. Sometimes he wandered around and inspected your furniture further, checked the cushions of your couch for their softness (apparently they sucked in his opinion, if the sneeze and the low growl were an indicator), climbed onto the different bookshelves and stared intensely at the huge amount of ridiculous historical romance novels you owned (Iruka wasn't the only sappy one in your circle) and hid himself from time to time underneath your bed or the despised sofa. Rascal was a really quiet cat and you appreciated the silent company more than anything else. Only the weak ruffle of fur ripped you sometimes out of your concentration and you would look around only to see the grey cat ogling at the catnip and inching closer whenever he thought you weren't aware.
Finally, after minutes of sneaking up at the innocent and surely scared plant you reached over without looking, gently tugged a branch off and placed it at the windowsill, barely in reach for your companion. You acted like you continued to work on your reports, but in reality your senses were highly concentrated at Rascal. His tail sayashed, uncertain and a tiny bit playful, then his paws clawed into the leaves and cradled the catnip to his chest.
Then everything happened really fast. One moment, Rascal was a silent and calm cat, the next he mewled in excitement and dropped to the floor, where he rolled around frantically and almost inhaled the scent of the plant, acting like a playful kitten with a wool ball. His eye was big and round and again his tongue lolled out of his maw. The whole picture was extremely cute, so cute in fact, that you paused your work and gently smiled while watching the cat enjoying his treat.
"Look at you," Rascal didn't even stop, only glanced upwards, then he started to lick his chest, "you silly, silly animal."