It was raining outside. Under any other circumstance, Iruka wouldn’t have minded. Except that it was cold, and wet, and it was Halloween. And normally, Iruka didn’t have arrangements for Halloween, so the terrible forecast wouldn’t have been a concern – except that he did this year, and the rain was impeding on those particular plans.
For the last two years, Halloween landed on a school day. For the most part, he was bogged down with lending an additional hand after class. In prior years, he didn’t bother to celebrate the holiday simply because he hadn’t had the time. It appeared that wasn’t a sufficient answer for Master Jiraiya.
The Sannin arrived in town just the night prior after a gruelling month of training with Naruto; he was dining at Ichiraku’s with Kakashi and Asuma. They feasted on ramen while Iruka listened to the tales of their various training. He was always impressed as a teacher of the Academy to listen to the growth and strength that students of his past accomplished in their own personal endeavours. Especially with Naruto. The boy was an enigma, Iruka decided, one he was keen on rooting for.
But no amount of compliments to Jiraiya and his masterful work with Naruto could spare Iruka from the dreaded conversation; what was going on for the holiday in the village? Iruka all but hung his head in his ramen bowl as the conversation around him ensued. It was unsurprising that Kakashi knew the goings-on of celebrations within the village; the man knew everything about everyone, for the most part. Asuma, not unlike Iruka, also didn’t typically partake in the festivities, but appeared rather intrigued at the prospect of joining his fellow comrades in a night of fun.
Iruka tried to avoid it; he was busy grading, preparing next week's lessons, and watering his plants – to no avail. Jiraiya all but insisted that Iruka join them for the evening. No if, ands, or buts about it. This brought Iruka to his current predicament. Not only did he have plans for the evening, it was also pouring with rain.
He watched the puddles from his perch on his small balcony attached to his second story apartment. The streets were painted a dark grey from the moisture, curbsides overflowing with an ongoing stream that seemed to come from and go nowhere in particular. The tea in his hand was far from serving its purpose of keeping him warm, which was a pity, given it was the last of his favourite herbal blend. Iruka signed petulantly, circling the remainder of the cup's contents in a slow motion.
When he heard the yelp, he nearly leaped from where he stood to the sound. Looking up to search the street once again, he noticed the laying figure of a young woman. From the way her wicker basket sat several feet away from her, Iruka determined she must have fallen in her travel. He watched her for a few moments, noticing that she was slow to rise to her feet. Ultimately, he decided if anything, he needed to ensure she wasn’t injured.
In your rush to make it to your aunt’s get together in time, you had stupidly forgotten to securely fasten one of the ankle straps on your rollerblades. Under normal conditions, it wouldn’t have proven to be too much of a problem; but when you’re speeding down the road and forget about the pothole just on the left hand side, it certainly can be.
You probably should’ve moved. You were in the middle of the street, after all. Sure, it was raining and there was likely no one coming that you could be a bother too, but nonetheless. You were laying in the dirty street. In a puddle. And you’re pretty sure your ankle would begin to swell just about any moment.
“Just great,” you muttered to yourself, unable to contain your annoyance any longer. It was nothing but obstacles since your eyes opened that morning. You ran out of your favourite tea blend, and in your search of finding something new to pair with your morning eggs, you burnt the last of them. You had no hot water when you went to shower – something that now seemed futile, given that your hair was soaked in rain water and mud. And, you were running late.
You heard the slam of a door followed by the approach of footsteps. You turned slowly, using your arms to push yourself up off the ground with a groan.
“Are you alright?”
Looking up, a gentleman stood above you with an umbrella in one hand and the other stretched out as an offer of help. He looked so comfortable in his training pants and turtleneck – comfortable and dry . You went to grab the hand he held out, and grimaced when you noticed the scrapes across your palm mixed with pieces of gravel.
“I’ve been better.” You conceded, brushing your hands across your pants as soon as you were standing upright. You noted a tear in the knee in one pant leg and frowned. “Thank you for coming to help me, though.” You turned to the man that was now bent over and collecting the various items that had fallen from your basket. Oh, no – the taiyaki! “My desserts!”
Rolling forward to grab the basket, the movement of your weight from one leg to the next sent a shooting pain throughout the entirety of your ankle and up the front of your leg. With a short cry, you went to collapse to the ground again, but found yourself caught by a pair of firm hands.
“Woah, easy! I think it’d be best if you get that ankle checked out.” Iruka felt horrible. There was something about the way your face broke at the sight of your soaked taiyaki that made him feel all the more guilty, although he hadn’t the faintest clue why he would. “Those are death traps you have strapped to your feet.”
You shot a look up at him. “They are not!”
“That so?” Iruka’s brow lifted in challenge, slowly removing his grip from your arms to allow you to steady yourself on your own feet. From the look of pain that pulled your brows together, he had proven his point. “It should be looked at.”
You sighed petulantly. Looking up at him now that the umbrella was situated over both of you, you allowed your brain a moment to register the man standing in front of you. You knew Iruka. You were only a few years his junior, so the pair of you never shared a class or completed any training together. But he was a familiar face, and a friendly one at that.
“I appreciate the concern, Iruka. But I’m actually running late.”
“I don’t think you understand,” he began, shaking his head slowly as he explained, “you’re not going to make it very far in this condition, and certainly not in this weather. Aren’t you in pain?”
Of course I’m in pain , you thought coarsely. “I promised my nephew taiyaki, I’m bringing him taiyaki.”
Iruka paused. As much as he wanted to argue that it was imperative you seek medical attention, he could appreciate that you felt you had a duty to fulfil. He often felt that same sense of duty when tending to his students. He took a moment to assess the situation, gnawing on the inside of his cheek while he processed.
“For Halloween?”
You nodded your head. “It’s his favourite holiday, and I love that he loves all things scary. I make him taiyaki every year and we eat it after we carve pumpkins.”
Iruka fell into silence again; the two of you stood under the shared umbrella surrounded by the pouring rain with your basket full of the ruined dessert hanging between the two of you in your hands. If you weren’t soaked to the bone, and your ankle wasn’t screaming with pain, it might have otherwise been quite a pleasant little moment.
Finally, Iruka spoke with an even and controlled tone. “I think it would be a good idea if you let someone take a look at your ankle. Besides, you can’t bring these to Konohamaru,” he held up one of the fish-shaped waffles between his fingers, “he’ll just come to the Academy tomorrow and tell everyone all about it. Do you want all the other youth to hear about how your taiyaki was soggy ?”
Could this be considered blackmail? You wondered, skeptically eyeing him. Probably not. But he was making a good case, unfortunately.
“If I go to the clinic now, I can kiss the rest of my day goodbye.”
Iruka paused, pursing his lips together in a firm line; then he sighed. “I can take a look at your ankle for you.”
This time, you hesitated. You watched him for a long moment, searching his face for any indicator that he might be just saying that for the sake of being polite; but from where you stood, he appeared nothing if not sincere. While you didn’t entirely love the prospect of letting Iruka see your foot, there was still the matter of your wet clothing.
You grimaced. “I’m not sure.”
“At most, it’s probably a sprain. You can ice it for a bit and then I’ll wrap it for you.” He replied, his face remaining calm and even.
You looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m going to drag mud in.”
Iruka sighed. “Are you always this stubborn when offered help?”
You almost laughed. “Unfortunately. Bad habit, I guess.”
“How about this: I’ll help get you back home, that way you can change into something dry and then we can set you up with a temporary fix for your foot.”
Admittedly, that was a better option. The feeling of your pants clinging to your body from the rain was beginning to irritate you greatly, and you were itching to get out of these clothes. “Okay, that’s not a horrible idea.”
Iruka lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-grin, shifting the umbrella from one hand to the next. “Do you think you can manage if you hold onto me?”
You shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”
The pair of you only made it to the top of the hill and around the corner before you halted entirely and shook your head. If you lived closer, it may have been feasible, but you still had another eight minutes to go. No chance you’d make it. After another five minutes of arguing, Iruka opted to pull you onto his back. It was decided that it was the easiest option to get you back to your apartment without putting further strain on your ankle, all while keeping you both safe from the rain.
The short walk back to your home was quiet. Iruka needed to use both hands to hold you steady, leaving you in charge of keeping the umbrella upright and over the both of you. Sometime along the way, you became increasingly aware that you were soaking his clothing with your own — something you felt terribly for. You wanted to apologize for it, but you knew Iruka would shrug it off. Always the gentleman.
“Here, let me help you.” Iruka knelt down once you were safely concealed inside your apartment. Remnants of your baking clung to the air and the space was still warm. You watched as the man’s fingers worked to undo the straps on your rollerblades; you quickly placed a hand on the wall beside you to steady yourself when he loosened the laces. “Can you step out of them?”
Albeit painful, you did manage to remove your feet and place them flat on the floor. Iruka placed your rollerblades next to a pair of sneakers you had just to the left of your front door, then stood and immediately began removing his own footwear.
“Do you own a tensor bandage?” He inquired, placing his jacket on the hook next to the one you had opted to leave at home just twenty short minutes ago.
“Somewhere in the bathroom,” you pointed to the door across the way.
Iruka nodded once. “I’ll go look for it. You find something dry to change into.”
He left you where you stood and made his way across your tiny studio to where the bathroom was. He shut the door behind him, offering you a moment of privacy; it was when the door was closed and you were alone that you finally took a moment to process what was happening.
Six years ago, you would have simply died to have Iruka hold you close, in any regard. Thankfully, you no longer felt like your tongue was swollen every time he happened to say hello when passing by in the streets. Overtime, the silly school-girl crush dissipated into respect - a mutual respect. You weren’t entirely sure when it happened. Maybe after Konohamaru started at the academy.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you quickly rummaged through your closet for a pair of clean joggers and a matching sweater. Peeling the rain-soaked jeans from your legs was the least enjoyable part of the process, but one you were grateful for. The flesh of your thighs were so cold it felt as though it was being pricked by thousands of tiny needles.
By the time Iruka exited out of the bathroom, you were pulling your sweater over your head. He found the tensor bandage and was stretching it out between his hands, his eyes lifting up to meet yours from across the space. “You look more comfortable.” He smiled.
“I am,” you conceded with a nod and a smile in return, “thank you for getting me home. I’m sure you have better things to be doing with your afternoon.”
Iruka chuckled and shook his head. “No bother at all.” The man appeared sincere, coming to sit down next to you on the tiny loveseat nestled at the foot of your bed. He pursed his lips together tightly and patted his meaty thigh twice. “Alright, let’s take a look.”
Removing the sock from your foot was the last thing you had wanted to do, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. You gave a quiet sigh, then reached down to slip the material of your sock away from your foot. Iruka helped guide your ankle into place on his leg; he then spent a few moments surveying the tenderness, his fingers gently touching along the swollen area. He kissed his teeth, offering a slight ‘tut’.
“I think you may need something to help bring the swelling down.” He finally decided.
“I’ve got a bottle of painkillers up there.” You sighed, pointing over to the cabinets above your stove. “There’s also a bag of frozen vegetables in the freezer, could you grab it for me?”
Iruka was quick to retrieve the items; he filled a small glass with some tap water and made his way back over to the loveseat to sit next to you. He set two tablets into the palm of your hand and watched you throw them into the back of your mouth before he handed you the water to swallow them down. When he was sure you had taken them, he took the glass from your hand and placed it on the table in front of him before gingerly placing the frozen bag of peas over your ankle.
You couldn’t help but still feel embarrassed. Surely he had better things to do with his Sunday than play caretaker for you. “I’m so sorry.”
Surprised, Iruka looked over at you. “What are you apologizing for?”
You shrugged once. “This definitely isn’t the best way to spend an afternoon, let alone your Halloween.”
The smile that Iruka flashed at you was warm and comforting. “Trust me, this is more up my alley than going out to celebrate.”
You rolled your eyes. That felt hard to believe. “What, you don’t go out with Asuma and the others?”
This time, it was Iruka who looked embarrassed. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck in a guilty manner, his eyes slipping closed as his cheeks lifted in an innocent smile. “I have a great deal of respect for your brother,” he admitted, “but Jiraiya can certainly be a little enthusiastic. Large gatherings aren’t exactly my idea of a good time.”
You blinked twice, then snorted. “Are you scared of the jōnin, Iruka?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Master Jiraiya’s enthusiasm is not a good enough excuse to opt out of Halloween,” you retorted.
Iruka sighed. “What if I say something stupid?”
You couldn’t help but laugh again. What a silly thing to be worried about, given that your older brother had his own fair share of stupidity. However, you also knew that Asuma also held most people at arm's length at all times, and so the remainder of the village didn’t have the privilege of knowing the Asuma that your family did. For the most part, he was rough around the edges; most certainly the suffer in silence type. But over the last few years during his budding relationship with Kurenai, another side of him began to make its appearance. Someone softer, more tender.
“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t.” You lamented. “People say stupid things when they’re halfway through a bottle of sake.”
The man next to you seemed to visibly relax. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Besides, if Master Jiraiya invited you, then you’d ought to be there. I don’t really think anyone in the village turns down a request from one of the Legendary Sannin.”
Iruka seemed to consider this. Admittedly, he would never let it be known that he just simply didn’t care for the antics of the holiday. In his youth, Halloween was the perfect day to plan for. He’d spend hours upon hours pulling together the most elaborate pranks; as responsibility came to the forefront, Iruka found that he spent less and less time giving a second thought about trivial things like holiday celebrations. Not having a family to celebrate with may have also played a part in that.
“What about you?”
Confused, you replied, “What about me?”
“Do you have any plans for the evening?” Iruka inquired, quickly followed by: “I mean, apart from trying to deliver moist desserts to a poor unsuspecting child?”
“To be fair, Konahamaru is expecting them.” You couldn’t help but snicker at his words. He was teasing you, and despite the fact the pair of you had not engaged in a steady conversation in almost four years, Iruka teasing you felt natural. As though he had been doing it his whole life. “But no, no plans. I probably would’ve been home after spending the afternoon with him and spent the evening watching a bad thriller and eating leftovers.”
“That doesn’t sound like an awful time.” He lied . Did she do this every year? Understandably, bringing sweets to your nephew seemed like a wholesome tradition – returning home like a hermit to indulge in the most basic and mundane of activities?
Well, Iruka couldn’t really judge. If he had it his way, he would be staying home tonight. Glancing down at your iced ankle, he decided if he was lucky enough, he could maybe weasel his way out of it.
You shrugged. “Not as fun as hanging out with my brother, I suppose.”
Iruka tensed, lifting his hand to the back of his neck to scratch the area lightly. It was still damp with rain from outside, but he was no longer cold. Actually, he noticed it was quite warm inside your studio. “Can I ask you a favour?”
“Anything.” It came out embarrassingly fast. You hoped he couldn’t see the heat creeping up your neck.
He appraised you for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nevermind. I couldn’t ask that of you.”
You decided not to press it any further; truthfully, you were a little annoyed. Now you were curious. What had he wanted to ask you? “I think I should probably wrap it now.”
Iruka nodded, dutifully tending to your ankle. Using both hands, he gently guided your foot from the table to his lap; he spent time examining the wound closely before unravelling the tensor bandage. He began at the base of your foot, then slowly brought it up in careful motions around your swollen ligament. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he tucked the loose end of the bandage into one of the loops and repositioned the bag of frozen vegetables over your ankle.
“I appreciate you helping me,” you said after a moment. Admittedly, everything that happened to you up until this point should have had you in tears of frustration — nothing had gone right. Yet, from the moment Iruka joined you outside in the rain to offer you a helping hand, the anger began to melt away. Now, the only thing weighing on your mind was the fact Konohamaru would go his first Halloween in six years without you and your shared desserts. “It’s nice to have a friend.”
It sounded so foreign coming from your mouth, but you were sincere.
“I won’t keep you any longer.” You said suddenly, feeling silly for not sending him off sooner. “Wouldn’t want to keep Jiriya waiting, would you?”
Iruka sighed. “I suppose.” He was slow to move, staring down at his hands that rested in his lap for a few moments longer before he turned towards your body. “I have a few hours before I’m expected anywhere, and I think I should make sure you get something to eat first.”
“Iruka, I’m fine.” You assured him.
The man nodded in agreement, but remained seated. “I hear you, I just think Asuma may think differently of me if I were to head out without making sure you were set for the rest of the evening. What kind of a man would I be if I left you now?” He said it nonchalantly, but there was a heavy insinuation behind his words.
You sighed, “I highly doubt Asuma would care.”
Iruka looked pointedly at you, “Would Asuma do it?” He asked, waiting patiently for your answer. When you lowered your eyes to the table in front of you, the man next to you chuckled and nodded in satisfaction. Because he was right – Asuma wouldn’t have left anyone’s side without ensuring they had everything they needed. You chalked it up to the way you were raised; your father had been an attentive man, and your brother seemed to be following in his footsteps. “That’s what I thought.”
Unwilling to argue with him, you accepted defeat and leaned back into the cushions of your sofa. “Fine. If you feel you must,” you grumbled lowly, trying to sound annoyed albeit unsuccessfully – Iruka appeared amused – and folded your arms indignantly across your chest, “what were you thinking?”
The man simply smiled, pushing himself off the sofa to wander over to the pantry just next to your fridge. He spent a few moments browsing through the various items you had leftover in your fridge and cupboard, compiling a batch of ingredients onto the countertops.
He paused after a while, a sound of displeasure breaking the silence. “No eggs?”
Guilty, you sunk lower into the pillows. “I used my last two this morning.”
Iruka looked over his shoulder to where you sat. He didn’t appear to appreciate that answer, and after shutting the fridge door, he made his way over to where he had left his shoes by your front door.
“Where are you going?” You asked, embarrassed by how quickly it had come from your lips.
He looked over to you again, his expression blank as he responded. “Heading to the market, I need eggs.”
You looked over to where your bag sat at his feet and sat up. “I have some change in the front pocket —”
Iruka held up his hand to stop you. “Nonsense, I’ve got it.”
Iruka looked so out of place standing in the middle of your tiny kitchen. He towered over the top of the fridge, needing to bend considerably in order to investigate its contents. His shoulders and back flexed with every movement; you found yourself mesmerized as he diligently diced the veggies into fine slices, absolutely enamoured with the current visual taking place. Admittedly, you never wanted it to end. For a moment, you allowed yourself to live in delusion. Having Iruka up close and personal like this made you long for something more permanent.
An hour later, Iruka set down a large bowl overflowing with a heaping pile of steaming deliciousness. “Tantanmen is served!”
You watched as he sat down across from you, noting the way he left his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and kept the apron around his waist. It was amusing to see Iruka so domestic; you only knew him as a prankster growing up, and in his later years, as a dutiful and dedicated teacher. To see him in any other light was strange, and yet, still refreshing.
“It looks incredible,” you couldn’t lie even if you wanted to. The scents that now filled your apartment had you practically drooling by the time dinner was ready.
“I wasn’t sure how much spice you could handle, so I went a little easy on yours.” He admitted, watching you intently as you took the first bite. When you closed your eyes and hummed in delight, his mouth broke open into a wide-toothed grin.
“It’s delicious.” You claimed, happily digging in for a second bite. “Wish I could cook like this.”
“Asuma doesn’t bother to teach you?” He inquired.
You shrugged. “When we were younger, sure. But, it’s been sixteen years since our mom died. I can’t imagine he remembers all of her recipes.”
Iruka hesitated with his next question. “Do you remember much of her? Your mom?”
“No.” You frowned, pushing the noodles around in the broth. “I was six when she was killed. Most of any memories that I have of her include watching her practice medical ninjutsu, more so when Kushina was pregnant.”
“That’s right,” Iruka nodded, “I had forgotten Biwako was one of Kushina’s midwives.”
You sat back, staring down into your bowl of ramen. “Seems like so long ago, when you consider everything.”
The man pursed his lips, watching you quietly for a moment before he leaned forward onto the table. “Do you ever think about following in her footsteps?”
You smiled, mostly to yourself. “Sometimes. I’m a fair kunoichi, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not sure if maternal practice is the best suited for me.”
Iruka nodded. “You mean that you prefer to be in the field.”
You shrugged sheepishly, meeting his gaze. “I blame Asuma for that. Reckless as he is, he may as well have his own team of medical-kunoichi.” You sighed deeply, dropping your eyes. “Not that I’ve been out in a while. Since my old man died, well . . .” you trailed off, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“No one thinks any less of you, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’d like to say I believe you,” you mumbled dryly, “but people treat me differently now that he’s gone. Not bad, but almost like they feel bad for me. Like I need their pity.”
Iruka folded his arms on the table, “I hardly think anyone pity’s you. You’re a Sarutobi, for God’s sake.”
“Sure feels like it.” Now you just felt silly, pouting at your grown age like this. In front of Iruka, nonetheless.
The man across from you sighed, unsure of how else he could comfort you. Iruka had watched you train plenty of times; from his classroom at the Academy, he had the perfect view of a few of the training fields that chūnin and jōnin gathered at to practice. He would be lying if he said he didn’t watch Asuma help you work on your hand signals from time to time, or that he found it amusing when you became frustrated.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he said after a while of silence. The softness of his voice surprised you. “I know that living this life can be difficult for most, but I would like to think that your father and mother wouldn’t want you to feel like this. Hiruzen spoke about the will of fire so often, I felt like I needed to make it my personal mission to ignite it within the youth of our village.
Sometimes I forget about how much will the rest of us harbour. I see it in Asuma everyday. I see it in Kakashi, and even Naruto and Shikamaru. They show up for their teammates and their friends every day, they make the choice to continue to aid the community and village in their own unique ways. Whether that be through completing missions at the benefit of protecting the village, or through enhancing their own strengths with vigorous training. It exists in all of us, and undoubtedly within you, too.”
Unable to hide the blood that rushed to your cheeks, you looked down into your bowl and moved around the noodles. Iruka was right. Maybe you did need to stop being so hard on yourself.
The pair of you sat across from each other for at least another hour or two before either of you realized the sun was setting behind the tops of the apartments; the rain had cleared, but the streets remained damp with puddles. A part of you was a little disappointed the afternoon had flown by so quickly. Spending time with Iruka turned out to be incredibly relaxing, and it turned out the two of you had a lot more in common than you previously thought.
You decided that you liked the way he smiled with his eyes. You liked the way the area around them crinkled whenever he lifted his lips into a grin. His hair was beginning to fall in stray strands from his neatly formed ponytail, and while you didn’t understand the logic, it made him all the more human. Intimate, even. Iruka was always seen pulled together, despite working closely with some of the most rambunctious youth the village had ever seen. Even during his sparring matches, a single hair never fell out of place.
The broad shouldered man was leaning into the counter as he washed the small batch of dishes you had accumulated throughout the day. You told him to leave them and protested profusely, but he waved you away with a laugh in reassurance.
“Are you going to end up meeting with Asuma and the others?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Why don’t you come with me?” He asked in return, turning away from the sink. “I’m sure no one would mind.”
You almost laughed in disbelief. “I wasn’t necessarily invited.”
Iruka shrugged nonchalantly. “I fail to see the problem. Like you just said, Asuma’s going.”
You thought about it. Surely you would get some grief about not making it to see Konohamaru, but being able to join your brother and his friends in the festivities. Not that Asuma would truly care — if anything, you were more concerned about how he may react to seeing you in a bandage. Protective as ever, Asuma was.
“Should I really be walking around just yet?” You wondered, looking down at your ankle with uncertainty.
Iruka wiped his hands on a small towelette, his head tilting to the side as he appraised you for a brief moment. Then, he replied, “If it gets to be too much, I will carry you home.”
From the definitive look in his gaze, you could tell he was sincere. You felt like you had no other choice but to chalk it up to the simple fact Iruka didn’t want to attend this gathering any more than you did, but a small, miniscule part you really wanted it to be because he enjoyed spending time with you.
“You’ll carry me all the way back?”
He nodded once. “And you can always lean on me if you need to take a load off, though, I imagine we will be able to sit.”
We will . It may have been wishful thinking, but you wanted to believe that meant he would stay by your side the rest of the night. Suddenly excited with the prospect of spending the remainder of your evening with him, you finally decided to nod and brace your hands on your knees.
“Alright. I’ve just got one more favour to ask before we head out anywhere, though.” You admitted sheepishly, looking sideways at him.
He only chuckled, something that always sounded carefree. “Name it.”
“I may need help changing into something a little less … casual.”
This time, it was Iruka who appeared to scramble to hide blush that creeped into his own cheeks. Flustered, he nodded but for the first time, suddenly looked completely frozen.
“Don’t worry,” you giggled, noticing the way he gulped noticeably when you began to unzip your sweater, “I won’t tell Asuma that you had a peek.”